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In Place
On Homesickness: A Plea
One day, Jesse Donaldson wakes up in Portland, Oregon, and asks his wife to uproot their life together and move to his native Kentucky. As he searches for the reason behind this sudden urge, Donaldson examines both the place where he was born and the life he’s building.
The result is a hybrid—part memoir, part meditation on nostalgia, part catalog of Kentucky history and myth. Organized according to Kentucky geography, with one passage for each of the commonwealth’s 120 counties, On Homesickness examines whether we can ever return to the places we’ve called home.
The result is a hybrid—part memoir, part meditation on nostalgia, part catalog of Kentucky history and myth. Organized according to Kentucky geography, with one passage for each of the commonwealth’s 120 counties, On Homesickness examines whether we can ever return to the places we’ve called home.
- GenresPoetryNonfictionMemoir
252 pages, Paperback
Published August 1, 2017
4 people are currently reading
382 people want to read
About the author
Jesse Donaldson
2 books46 followersJesse Donaldson was born and raised in Kentucky, attended Kenyon College and Oregon State University, and was a fellow at The Michener Center for Writers in Austin, Texas. His writing has appeared in The Oxford American, The Greensboro Review, and Crazyhorse. Among other things, he’s worked as a gardener, copywriter, teacher, and maintenance man. He now lives in Oregon with his wife and daughter, and a dog named Max.
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Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews
September 8, 2017
Sometimes books find you, as is the case with this gem by Jesse Donaldson. I'll be upfront and say I do not think I can give this book a fair assessment. It speaks so much to the tangle of emotions I'm working through as Kentuckian who recently returned home that I love it most because of the serendipitous nature in which we met, and because Donaldson gives words to many of my own feelings. Donaldson excels at probing the nostalgia he harbors for the Bluegrass without falling into hyperbole or sentimentalism. You sense his is a real, if problematic yearning for a place. What he finds is that the Kentucky he longs for is less about place and more about ideas--sentiments rooted in his past and holding his desires for the future. "I am trapped somewhere on a bridge between the Kentucky of my mind (an idealized past) and the Kentucky I no longer know (some troubled present)" (139). When it becomes clear that his prospects of returning are dim, he turns anew to Oregon and life alongside his wife and daughter.
July 30, 2018
I loved this little book. A displaced (misplaced?) Kentuckian myself, his literary pondering and musing about returning home totally resonated with me. At times it made me sad, at times it made me laugh and, in the back of my reading mind, it made me think of the unconscious magnetism a place can hold over us and whether that magnetism should be heeded or ignored.
November 29, 2017
Delves into all 120 KY counties with some history, loads of nostalgia, and family conflict as well. Recommend to any Kentuckian.
February 25, 2018
Lyrical and affecting assessments of Kentucky home county by county...
November 1, 2017
I am not sure I can think about this rationally. Like the story in this memoir, I take place in Kentucky. Like the author, I moved away from my childhood home. Like him, I was melancholy to leave it. Like him, I am a writer. Unlike Mr. Jesse Donaldson, who I had the pleasure of meeting in person a few weeks ago, I returned.
I moved to New York City after college. My younger brother died six months before I took flight for the city, but I still went through with it. Before all of this, I complained about Kentucky. Just like every cliche, rebellious teenager, I wanted nothing more than to show those idiots back home how smart and refined I was. After a while away, I realized how wonderful Kentucky is. The rolling hills; the trees; the beautiful, breezy grass; the horses silhouetted by sunrise or set; the hardened, working class people who can wear a rebel's coat, a farrier's smock, and a lover's ring all in a day. It took leaving to realize what I had left. I get the sense that Donaldson feels the same, especially after reading his long-form prose-poem: On Homesickness, A Plea.
On Homesickness seems ambitious on the surface but is down to earth and agile when read. Donaldson attempts to write prose about all 120 counties of Kentucky. Each county signifies something different for him, for us Kentuckians, and for his growing family.
Donaldson now lives in Portland, OR. Some of my cousins live there, too. When I went to visit them last October, I commented on how similar Portland was to Lexington and how something about the landscapes reminded me of home. I guess the author does not feel the same way, at least not at first. He finds his new place in the world scary, and a lot of the memoir features him hiding in his basement with a drink and a pen. This reminded me of myself. I have always hid myself away in mythos and adventure. It's why on a Saturday night you can find me lost in a book, daydreaming to a spinning record, or slack-jawed, staring at a good film onscreen.
I guess the point I am skating around here is that this book resonated too well with me for me to judge it like I would another memoir or novel. I am not sure how much I would like it if my circumstances in life were different. What I can provide is that the book is well written, has clean design, and is entertaining in its anecdotes. Outside of that, it was too much a gut-punch to my soul -- too many memories of homesickness that I myself have bore swirling through the pages.
On Homesickness works best when it inspires. It can seem solipsistic, mainly because it is a plea from a man to his wife, but I found the book good for my own writing. Some of the best passages or questions within the work inspired some poems I am now proud of. Good books are beaches for the writer. There are thousands of grains of sand out there, both good ideas and bad, but strong work will point you to the best grains. Once you find one, you can roll it over and over, in between your forefinger and thumb, until it becomes something solid and sturdy and beautiful, like a castle on the Woodford/Fayette County line.
Who would I recommend it to? Kentuckians for a start. You will feel a deep sense of pride, longing, and mythology within. People who have left home and are happy would be another group for recommendation; I plan on sending my aforementioned cousins a copy to get their perspective. They moved to Portland from Lexington and three years later they had a child. They now plan to stay permanently and are satisfied with said decision. Sound familiar?
So, without rationale to guide me, what is my verdict? Does this book work? I think so. It works best when it is metaphor-ing myths from Kentucky with modern woes and anguish. It works well when it is a plea from Mr. Donaldson to his wife: a plea to please go back home. The only time it didn't work for me was the very end. The author sort of leaves the central idea of the book behind (one county, one semi-related story) in favor of his own tale. This is okay. He apologizes to the reader for it in the afterword. Maybe it's because that is where the resonance fell off for me. I don't have a child, nor would I know how to expect one. Maybe I will pick this old paperback up five or ten years from now when my girl is pregnant and see what I see.
I have heard in my life that you can't go home again. This book solidifies that platitude with the limestone of nostalgia and bedrock of memory. Well, I went back home. And when home is a place like Kentucky, it's hard to regret it.
I moved to New York City after college. My younger brother died six months before I took flight for the city, but I still went through with it. Before all of this, I complained about Kentucky. Just like every cliche, rebellious teenager, I wanted nothing more than to show those idiots back home how smart and refined I was. After a while away, I realized how wonderful Kentucky is. The rolling hills; the trees; the beautiful, breezy grass; the horses silhouetted by sunrise or set; the hardened, working class people who can wear a rebel's coat, a farrier's smock, and a lover's ring all in a day. It took leaving to realize what I had left. I get the sense that Donaldson feels the same, especially after reading his long-form prose-poem: On Homesickness, A Plea.
On Homesickness seems ambitious on the surface but is down to earth and agile when read. Donaldson attempts to write prose about all 120 counties of Kentucky. Each county signifies something different for him, for us Kentuckians, and for his growing family.
Donaldson now lives in Portland, OR. Some of my cousins live there, too. When I went to visit them last October, I commented on how similar Portland was to Lexington and how something about the landscapes reminded me of home. I guess the author does not feel the same way, at least not at first. He finds his new place in the world scary, and a lot of the memoir features him hiding in his basement with a drink and a pen. This reminded me of myself. I have always hid myself away in mythos and adventure. It's why on a Saturday night you can find me lost in a book, daydreaming to a spinning record, or slack-jawed, staring at a good film onscreen.
I guess the point I am skating around here is that this book resonated too well with me for me to judge it like I would another memoir or novel. I am not sure how much I would like it if my circumstances in life were different. What I can provide is that the book is well written, has clean design, and is entertaining in its anecdotes. Outside of that, it was too much a gut-punch to my soul -- too many memories of homesickness that I myself have bore swirling through the pages.
On Homesickness works best when it inspires. It can seem solipsistic, mainly because it is a plea from a man to his wife, but I found the book good for my own writing. Some of the best passages or questions within the work inspired some poems I am now proud of. Good books are beaches for the writer. There are thousands of grains of sand out there, both good ideas and bad, but strong work will point you to the best grains. Once you find one, you can roll it over and over, in between your forefinger and thumb, until it becomes something solid and sturdy and beautiful, like a castle on the Woodford/Fayette County line.
Who would I recommend it to? Kentuckians for a start. You will feel a deep sense of pride, longing, and mythology within. People who have left home and are happy would be another group for recommendation; I plan on sending my aforementioned cousins a copy to get their perspective. They moved to Portland from Lexington and three years later they had a child. They now plan to stay permanently and are satisfied with said decision. Sound familiar?
So, without rationale to guide me, what is my verdict? Does this book work? I think so. It works best when it is metaphor-ing myths from Kentucky with modern woes and anguish. It works well when it is a plea from Mr. Donaldson to his wife: a plea to please go back home. The only time it didn't work for me was the very end. The author sort of leaves the central idea of the book behind (one county, one semi-related story) in favor of his own tale. This is okay. He apologizes to the reader for it in the afterword. Maybe it's because that is where the resonance fell off for me. I don't have a child, nor would I know how to expect one. Maybe I will pick this old paperback up five or ten years from now when my girl is pregnant and see what I see.
I have heard in my life that you can't go home again. This book solidifies that platitude with the limestone of nostalgia and bedrock of memory. Well, I went back home. And when home is a place like Kentucky, it's hard to regret it.
January 1, 2018
I am from Tennessee, but I am sure Jesse will forgive me too. We can't all be perfect.
May 29, 2018
This book grabbed me at the library. Part poetry, part prose, with a creative premise: one short prose-poem for each county of Kentucky. It's a nice device, which could have been easily improved if there was some relationship between each county and its juxtaposed writing. As is, the counties function more more like page numbers than as historical, geographic, or narrative anchors.
On Homesickness is understandable and engaging. Donaldson is smart enough to go meta on himself and make fun of his nostalgia. The subtitle--"a plea"-- leads to mixed results. Perhaps "a timid whine" would have been more appropriate? Ultimately, I couldn't overcome the learned helplessness exhibited on these pages. Instead of writing and complaining about his primal urge to move back to Kentucky, why not just do it? Having read the first 1/3rd of the book, I decided my time would be better spent reading more inspiring material.
Recommend filing on the pessimist-to-optimistic poetry bookshelf in slot #3 (#1 = Sylvia Plath suicidal; #10 = Billy Collins fun)
On Homesickness is understandable and engaging. Donaldson is smart enough to go meta on himself and make fun of his nostalgia. The subtitle--"a plea"-- leads to mixed results. Perhaps "a timid whine" would have been more appropriate? Ultimately, I couldn't overcome the learned helplessness exhibited on these pages. Instead of writing and complaining about his primal urge to move back to Kentucky, why not just do it? Having read the first 1/3rd of the book, I decided my time would be better spent reading more inspiring material.
Recommend filing on the pessimist-to-optimistic poetry bookshelf in slot #3 (#1 = Sylvia Plath suicidal; #10 = Billy Collins fun)
July 14, 2018
Full disclosure: I discovered this book because of a personal struggle with homesickness. I was born and raised in West Virginia, next door to Kentucky. Like Donaldson, I live in Oregon. So, maybe I was searching for answers. Certainly, I was searching for perspective. I found neither.
All in all, Donaldson never became a sympathetic character for me. He paints such a gloomy picture of himself and his life. Rather like the Peanuts character who walks around with a perpetual thundercloud overhead. I wondered continually how his gloom, including his drinking, affected his spouse and, at the end and into the future, his daughter.
The county format used to subdivide this narrative did not work for me either. As a literary device, I found it distracting and pretentious, and often the geography appeared to bear no relevance whatsoever to the text.
I guess my 3 stars are generous. If the author’s purpose was a publication to add to his academic vita, mission accomplished. Otherwise, not so much. I am truly disappointed.
All in all, Donaldson never became a sympathetic character for me. He paints such a gloomy picture of himself and his life. Rather like the Peanuts character who walks around with a perpetual thundercloud overhead. I wondered continually how his gloom, including his drinking, affected his spouse and, at the end and into the future, his daughter.
The county format used to subdivide this narrative did not work for me either. As a literary device, I found it distracting and pretentious, and often the geography appeared to bear no relevance whatsoever to the text.
I guess my 3 stars are generous. If the author’s purpose was a publication to add to his academic vita, mission accomplished. Otherwise, not so much. I am truly disappointed.
September 13, 2022
This felt more like a somewhat poetic memoir musing about falling in love, leaving home, and having children of one’s own, than it felt like a love song for Kentucky. Still, it was nice for what it was.
“These two men—the frontiersman and the writer—are mentors of a sort, though I'm hesitant to equate my homesickness with theirs. Boone chose Kentucky before its borders had been set. Berry traces his Kentucky bona fides back two hundred years. I, on the other hand, am the sole native-born of my family, and though my parents have adopted the land as Boone did. Our roots are shallow. I left the bluegrass half my life ago, sped away as if chased by wolves, and have returned only briefly since. The house where I grew up has been sold. I will never know its creaky floors again. And yet I feel Kentucky's draw like the thinnest of threads stitched into my heart-unspooled and fastened to a stake sunk into the marrowbone of home. When the wind blows, it tugs, and I turn to look over mountains, plateaus, and rivers-the long gap between here and home.”
“I don't know why I want to flee Oregon, why I feel it so acutely. I never planned to be the sort of man who sought the familiar, who made pleas, but that's the man I've become.”
“These two men—the frontiersman and the writer—are mentors of a sort, though I'm hesitant to equate my homesickness with theirs. Boone chose Kentucky before its borders had been set. Berry traces his Kentucky bona fides back two hundred years. I, on the other hand, am the sole native-born of my family, and though my parents have adopted the land as Boone did. Our roots are shallow. I left the bluegrass half my life ago, sped away as if chased by wolves, and have returned only briefly since. The house where I grew up has been sold. I will never know its creaky floors again. And yet I feel Kentucky's draw like the thinnest of threads stitched into my heart-unspooled and fastened to a stake sunk into the marrowbone of home. When the wind blows, it tugs, and I turn to look over mountains, plateaus, and rivers-the long gap between here and home.”
“I don't know why I want to flee Oregon, why I feel it so acutely. I never planned to be the sort of man who sought the familiar, who made pleas, but that's the man I've become.”
March 12, 2025
Neat, emotionally resonant concept that weaves in quirky facts about Kentucky: everything from the exploits of outlaw Jesse James to the historical value of salt to the reproductive cycle of a native mussel.
I was interested to see Donaldson centering the need to choose between a place and a partner in his narrative. Moving into my thirties, I’ve seen several friends wrestle with this decision, and I feel like it deserves more attention in art and literature, as Donaldson has given it! I did end up feeling a little sorry for his wife…less because of his “plea” for her to return to Kentucky than because of his worshipful treatment of her as the mythical opposite of his mythical Kentucky. It didn’t feel like she was allowed to be a real person, although Kentucky, in the end, was allowed to break through its mythology and become a more real, complex, troubled version of itself. I wish the wife had received the same treatment.
I was interested to see Donaldson centering the need to choose between a place and a partner in his narrative. Moving into my thirties, I’ve seen several friends wrestle with this decision, and I feel like it deserves more attention in art and literature, as Donaldson has given it! I did end up feeling a little sorry for his wife…less because of his “plea” for her to return to Kentucky than because of his worshipful treatment of her as the mythical opposite of his mythical Kentucky. It didn’t feel like she was allowed to be a real person, although Kentucky, in the end, was allowed to break through its mythology and become a more real, complex, troubled version of itself. I wish the wife had received the same treatment.
December 31, 2017
Ernest Hemingway said there is nothing to writing; all you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. Donaldson takes this advice to heart, pouring his heart and soul into this memoir.
Dancing in turn as a love letter, plea, nostalgia and history, On Homesickness details Donaldson's pining for Kentucky, the land of his birth. Tying a paragraph to each of the state's 120 counties (some pages directly relate to the county, some don't), he recounts his please to his wife to return home with him.
On Homesickness is beautifully written, and at times heartbreaking. Donaldson's an expert at transferring his feelings and emotions into words.
Highly recommended.
Dancing in turn as a love letter, plea, nostalgia and history, On Homesickness details Donaldson's pining for Kentucky, the land of his birth. Tying a paragraph to each of the state's 120 counties (some pages directly relate to the county, some don't), he recounts his please to his wife to return home with him.
On Homesickness is beautifully written, and at times heartbreaking. Donaldson's an expert at transferring his feelings and emotions into words.
Highly recommended.
April 14, 2019
Structurally, I found this a provocative text—120 vignettes that each align to one of Kentucky’s 120 counties. It also reminded me of Ross Gay’s book of delights in it’s snapshot structure.
Donaldson is able to turn a beautiful phrase and make you homesick for your own home as well as Kentucky (a place I’ve never lived). There are many beautiful sentences in this book, but around page 130 I started getting tired. The musings dipped back and forth and lost focus to me. However, I think there’s something to be said for a book that is quite literally designed to make the reader slow down.
I ear marked many passages and will go back to them again.
Donaldson is able to turn a beautiful phrase and make you homesick for your own home as well as Kentucky (a place I’ve never lived). There are many beautiful sentences in this book, but around page 130 I started getting tired. The musings dipped back and forth and lost focus to me. However, I think there’s something to be said for a book that is quite literally designed to make the reader slow down.
I ear marked many passages and will go back to them again.
August 30, 2019
I've never read a book quite like this, and I mean that as a huge compliment. There's elegy and intellect and nostalgia on every page, and experiencing the ways that these intersect is really fantastic. Donaldson has a way of yanking you around emotionally and then injecting his fierce intellect in at just the right moment. And the prose just dazzles. This is already in the re-read pile.
January 23, 2018
On Homesickness is a beautiful lyric essay the explores the complexities of missing a place with nuance & grace. Read my review of Jesse's book on The Collapsar:
https://thecollapsar.org/blog/2017/10...
https://thecollapsar.org/blog/2017/10...
January 31, 2018
As a Kentucky expat, I am more than a little biased as I see many of my own feelings about my home state described perfectly by the author. Even if I wasn't biased, I found the prose to be beautiful and sparse - a love letter to Kentucky, the author's wife and their child.
March 1, 2022
A beautiful prose poem ingeniously organized by Kentucky counties. The language was beautiful, and I enjoyed annotating certain county pages with memories and friends I have there. It does a good job at acknowledging that we romanticize our homelands. Kentucky is complex, and this book shows it.
January 13, 2023
Read it in one sitting at the Lexington Public Library! Moved here from Florida, a place that doesn’t feel like home even though it’s where I was born. Reading it gave me some of what I need to trust that this is my home now. Thank you.
January 3, 2018
A fun read for all Kentucky natives and anyone that has ever moved due to need/want of a new spouse.
September 25, 2019
As someone who now lives in Kentucky but also lived in Oregon, I found this very intriguing. Loved it.
January 19, 2025
What a beautiful reflection on nostalgia, place, and homesickness.
Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews