Ramp Hollow: The Ordeal of Appalachia

by Steven Stoll

Short-listed for the Phi Beta Kappa Ralph Waldo Emerson Book Award

In Ramp Hollow , Steven Stoll offers a fresh, provocative account of Appalachia, and why it matters. He begins with the earliest European settlers, whose desire for vast forests to hunt in was frustrated by absentee owners―including George Washington and other founders―who laid claim to the region. Even as Daniel Boone became famous as a backwoods hunter and guide, the economy he represented was already in peril. Within just a few decades, Appalachian hunters and farmers went from pioneers to pariahs, from heroes to hillbillies, in the national imagination, and the area was locked into an enduring association with poverty and backwardness. Stoll traces these developments with empathy and precision, examining crucial episodes such as the Whiskey Rebellion, the founding of West Virginia, and the arrival of timber and coal companies that set off a devastating “scramble for Appalachia.”

At the center of Ramp Hollow is Stoll’s sensitive portrayal of Appalachian homesteads. Perched upon ridges and tucked into hollows, they combined small-scale farming and gardening with expansive foraging and hunting, along with distilling and trading, to achieve self-sufficiency and resist the dependence on cash and credit arising elsewhere in the United States. But the industrialization of the mountains shattered the ecological balance that sustained the households. Ramp Hollow recasts the story of Appalachia as a complex struggle between mountaineers and profit-seeking forces from outside the region. Drawing powerful connections between Appalachia and other agrarian societies around the world, Stoll demonstrates the vitality of a peasant way of life that mixes farming with commerce but is not dominated by a market mind-set. His original investigation, ranging widely from history to literature, art, and economics, questions our assumptions about progress and development, and exposes the devastating legacy of dispossession and its repercussions today.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Politics, American History, Economics, Sociology, Historical

432 pages, Paperback

First published November 21, 2017

Reviews

[Linnea Hartsuyker · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ramp Hollow is unlike any history book I’ve ever read before. It tells the story of Appalachia, as a region that was populated by Native Americans, then white “mountaineers” who lived as subsistence farmer-hunter-gatherers. It tells how foreign land-owners, and the concept of “enclosure”, which turns common land, like grazing forest, into private property, killed the ability of Appalachian residents to continue to live as they had before. It makes the strong argument, by comparing the land takeover in Appalachia to land takeovers elsewhere, that that common, undeveloped land, usually forest or marsh, is an ecological cushion, and necessity for more developed land, and when it is gone, the way of life falls apart. And also that consuming that land is one of the first ways that capitalism encroaches on a local peasant economy.

Far from the commons being always exploited by individuals who have access to it, Ramp Hollow argues that the real tragedy of the commons is how often it is taken away from those who need it. We can see that today with library funding on the chopping block.)

Read more here: http://www.linneahartsuyker.com/2018/...

[Doug Gordon · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first couple of chapters presented a lot of historical background information and were pretty slow to get through to the point where I considered giving up on the book. But then it really picked up and turned into quite a fascinating story. It is really about much more than just Appalachia, as it describes a process that has been going on for the last couple of centuries and continues right down to today in some of the poorer area around the world. It certainly gave me new insight and sympathy for the plight of the subsistence agrarians who have been forced into their present situations by the forces of capitalism and the belief that they should be brought into the "modern world."

[kerrycat · Rating 2 out of 5]

almost a DNF - very disappointed.

most of this book was a history of capitalism, poverty in other countries, "consider Haiti" (why?), and miscellaneous digressions (like Haiti) meant to support/explain what the focus of the book purports to be. I understand that the author may expect his readers to have zero background in this area, but I am pretty sure it is an inaccurate assumption. I was alternately insulted and annoyed by this material (yes, I know about the Black Death, but am not interested in the unemployment rates in Latin America from 1950-1956) and after about 80 pages, began to skim over the words to look for anything that stood out as something I didn't know or seemed pertinent. The narrative rambled this way and that, with the focus shifting from Appalachia/West Virginia back to what the author felt necessary to include at various points. Those parts detailing A/WV were good, and it was worth continuing to skim over the rest to get to it.

[Peter · Rating 3 out of 5]

We are all Appalachians now.

The book itself is a bit choppy, moving from theory to fact, to change in time and region and then back again, multiple times. But the author mines a variety of little known (at least to me) facts and brings insight page after page, and also gets in a few very well-turned phrases to boot.

This book is not really about Appalachia. It’s about America. And it’s about justice. Which is to say, it is about the Gospel.

If you want to make a quick buck, and someone is in your way, get them out of the way. It doesn’t really matter how. Because you are the most important person in the world.

If that formation makes you a bit uncomfortable, if you prefer reference to a philosophy, a big idea, something that will make you seem (to yourself, and possibly others) less culpable, less bad, something that could even be used to get other people to agree with your means to an end, if not the end itself, use Ayn Rand’s objectivism, or, in a pinch, Milton Friedman’s classical economics (see my review of Capitalism and Freedom, in which he could not care less about what happens to workers when trade is free). These “philosophies” work just as well to get you want you want.

In either case, the result is the same. Someone, who is probably not like you, and certainly does not have your advantages of birth or weak moral compass, is going to lose and you are going to win, and perhaps win big.

This is the base story of the enclosure movement in England (The Great Transformation, Polanyi), the destruction of the tribes of American Indians (a.k.a. native Americans, a.k.a., indigenous peoples)(Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, Dee Brown), the story of classes of farmers in India today (Capitalism, A Ghost Story, Roy), the story of famers in Judea circa 30 (Zealot, Aslan), and the story of the collapse of the Roman Empire (The Collapse of Complex Societies , Tainter), to name a few. The same can be said of contemporary America.

Ask not for whom the Bell of classical economic theory tolls, real Americans, it tolls for thee.

But back to the Gospel. Who said that the want of money is the root of all evil? That was the Apostle Paul. Who said you cannot serve two masters? That was Jesus. Who was it who said that it is easier for a camel to pass through the “eye of a needle” (a very low and narrow gate only large enough for people on foot) than a rich man to get into heaven? Jesus again. There are other examples such as the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew) and Jesus’ instruction that if you wanted to follow Him you must give up all your possessions. Jesus did not speak about the economic system much, because He was more interested in peoples’ relationship with God. But when capitalism spread so far that it was even juxtaposed between people and God (i.e., vendors inside the Temple), he (and later Martin Luther) became very, very angry.

Through the ages, people have gotten very angry when economic justice and fairness were sorely lacking. Where is that anger in America now? The conservative talking machine has been skilled at deflecting the rage towards the Democrats, as if the last 45 years of the hollowing out of the US economy was somehow the fault of environmental regulations, public employees, and gay rights activists. This is a great smokescreen that distracts the people from the real trends of economic power---the free flow of capital, the lowering of trade barriers in the name of free trade (and the joyous spread of capitalism and (hopefully) democracy) and mergers and acquisitions, all driven by that fanciful belief that somehow, some way, England will always be better at growing corn that any other country and Spain will always be better at making port (see, The Worldly Philosophers, by Robert Heilbroner).

Start with a mistaken premise, and you can end up with a whole lot of messed up lives.

I think capitalism is a great system, but like an atomic reactor, it needs some controls. I think those controls should reflect Christian based ethics, though I would settle for any widely accepted ethical system rather than that anti-ethical system, objectivism, that says the market can police itself. That system is a joke.

[Marks54 · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is the latest in a series of works that gained in potential readership after the 2016 US general elections. The focus is on the history of economic and political suffering of the Appalachian region. The author is an historian and the book reads like a history, although it has a more distinct point of view (some might say axe to grind) than a typical academic history. The comparison volumes that come readily to mind are Vance’s “Hillbilly Elegy” and Isenberg’s “White Trash”.

The punchline here is one of political economy. The people of Appalachia have historically been subsistence farmers, meaning farmers who sought to live off their own labors on small tracts of land that were situated in broader core areas that served as common areas. They were not impoverished and suffering from hunger or disease due to their economic situation. Rather they constituted a population that lived to be autonomous and was not integrated into the broader political and economic life of the country. Such a population served broader social missions when the country was expanding and running up against the local indigenous indian populations. Once the frontier had moved on, however, this poor white squatter population became more of a problem, both for the government’s efforts to integrate the diverse localities of the new nation into an integrated and tax paying whole and for business interests that needed a pliant workforce and unencumbered land when possibilities were discovered in extractive industries, especially coal.

The logic driving this story is one of exclusion. Unintegrated autonommous small actors get in the way of the growth of a large and modern capitalist economy characterized by a division of labor, trade, and a money economy. In that sense, the plight of the residents of Appalachia was akin to that faced by peasants in Britain as a result of the enclosure movement - sort of... Title to land in the mountain region was formally given early in US history to a small number of absentee landlords who did little to develop the land given its undeveloped state, low population levels, lack of infrastructure, etc. The land was actually settled by this independent small subsistence farmers whose title was based more on their continuing occupancy of the land and their engagement of their effort in improving the land (“sweat equity”). This sets up a series of conflicts once the situation changes and the owners of formal titles seek to have the courts and state governments reaffirm their ownership rights and secure the exclusion of their small tenant farmers.

Who do you think won these conflicts? Once big coal has consolidated its control over the land and over the state government, it is easy to see what happens when the coal has been extracted, the landscape has been destroyed, and the firms have moved on to other areas. You can hear John Prine preparing to sing another verse of “Paradise”.

Professor Stoll has done his homework and the book is very informative. I even have a sense of why West Virginia split off from Virginia during the Civil War. You even get to learn about the real story behind the famous Hatfield-McCoy feud. The story flows well, although this is a largely academic book rather than a popular volume.

I think the political economy story here is useful and reasonable. Property has always been important in determining who counts and who does not in America. That is a key aspect to Isenberg’s book on White Trash. Add struggles over land rights and competing economic systems and the resulting story is even more informative. I also appreciate the attempt to craft an overall historical story for the region. Personal testimonials are fine up to a point, but memoirs such as Vance’s that lead to the narrator’s triumph through exiting the area and going to Yale Law are not entirely satisfying. What if one lacks the resources, family support, guidance, and good luck to get out? Not everyone can - or would want to - leave.

The author goes to some length to propose recommendations for alleviating the plight of the area through changes in laws and government practices, new programs, and new investments. While well intended, these struck me as suffering from a wish to redefine the problem in the form of a solution. I understand the intent but the effort did not add to the overall value of the book - a chapter too far.

Overall, this is a worthwhile and enjoyable read.

[Mike · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found Professor Stoll's treatment of the factors which produced modern Appalachia compelling reading for those of curious as to how we got to where we are. He does give us a solution which while interesting, belies the complexity of what he has just explained. I'm thinking there are simpler more practical solution or steps would be more helpful. Appalachia wasn't built in a day. Also, it's Monongalia County. The river is the Monongahela. I would recommend the book.

[Benedett · Rating 5 out of 5]

“I am interested in how people get kicked off land and why we don’t talk about them,” Steven Stoll writes in introducing his majestic history of greater West Virginia, Ramp Hollow. I’m a proud native West Virginian, and I’ve spent countless hours discussing the problems of the state, but Stoll is right, almost none of those hours were spent asking “How did all these mountain people end up so much poorer than their neighbors in Ohio or Virginia?”

In Stoll’s telling, the history of European settlement of the Appalachian mountains begins with a group of rogue Swedes who settled south of Philadelphia, augmenting their woodland skills with ones learned from the native Lenape, and who assimilated several waves of European immigrants, most consequentially the Scots-Irish, before migrating throughout America’s southern mountains and eventually the Great Plains. A family would find some acres they could claim and set up a garden and a small farm, keeping the larger part of their property as woodland for hunting and gathering, clearing a few acres by burning whenever it seemed the existing farm needed some years off from planting. People didn’t have a lot of cash money but they had plenty of other things they could trade for things they couldn’t make themselves, and they could feed themselves quite well off the land.

A convergence of forces came together around the time of Civil War to destroy the mountain subsistence way of life. Increasing populations put stress on the ecosystem. West Virginia’s reverse secession put politicians in power who favored extractive industries of coal, wood, and minerals. Critics of the mountain people thought them too stupid or stubborn to change their ways, but it’s hard to imagine the level of innovation it would take to adapt to so many changes within a couple of decades.

The book’s weakness is its lack of momentum, the sense that every chapter is the introduction for another book, rather than that it is building directly from what has come before. The book’s strength is a combination of clarity and color, as when he tells stories of “the near indifference they displayed toward the survival of their livestock” before tying this indifference to the particular logic of mountain subsistence agriculture.

Stoll has plenty of criticism for earlier thinkers on the problems of mountain people, whether Adam Smith, Karl Marx, capitalists, or bureaucrats. Admirably, he goes beyond mere criticism. In the final chapter of the book he affirms he is a democratic socialist and devotes three pages to a piece of model legislation that would establish new commonses in mountain communities, areas where locals could manage “the larger landscape” and hunt, graze, garden, and farm. It would give some security to people already eating off the land, and make it possible for more people to do so. There are plenty of criticisms to make of this plan (and Stoll begins to criticize the plan almost as soon as he’s stated it!) but I do like that he made the effort. I wish all authors articulated solutions with even a fraction of the energy they spent on articulating problems.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ok, let's start off by saying: I don't want to drink a beer with Steven Stoll. Not for political reasons, I think our politics are probably pretty closely aligned. And not because he doesn't seem like a smart guy, he clearly is. I just don't LIKE him. I would have a beer with Robert Caro every night for the rest of my life, and I would be SO ENTERTAINED. And he would tell me magical stories about figures in American history both towering and insignificant, and I would be enraptured. Steven Stoll....well. Not so much. Look. I read this book because I travel through West Virginia at least once a year when visiting family, and I was fascinated by the history of it, and I wanted to know especially about the rise of coal mining, the labor movement in WV, the environmental impact of coal mining, why WV continues to stick with coal mining when it's so obviously detrimental to the health of the people and the earth, etc. I did not learn any of those things from this book. The book focused heavily on pre-coal-mining agrarian times, and when it got the the 20th century and the height of coal mining, any recounting of history was sketched over at best. There was little actual discussion of coal mining, or at least much less than I expected there would be. Some of the origins of the discovery of the coal and the initial speculating were covered, but then it just kind of ceased to give any real detail about the rise and fall of the coal industry. In fact, one of my main problems with the whole book is that it failed to give a lot of detail about anything. I'm READING THIS BOOK IN MY FREE TIME. TELL ME A STORY. Look. I was a history major, and I'm a history buff. I understand placing history into a grand historical scheme, and I understand the need to link other world historical events to the events in a specific place and time. But this book is ALL linking grand historical schemes and making (sometimes tangential) comparisons to other places and times, and is utterly lacking in captivating stories about Appalachia. At times he went many, many pages without discussing Appalachia at all, winding off into comparisons to other places, other continents, other time periods that while somewhat enlightening, just were so extensive that at times it was hard to consider that it was even a book about Appalachia at all. Throughout the book, it seemed that the author was assuming that we (the readers) already KNEW all the stories about Appalachia, and so he (the author) was just here to place all of our historical knowledge about Appalachia into a grand historical scheme. I do NOT know all the stories about Appalachia! Tell me the stories! That is why I bought a book about Appalachia: to learn the stories! Prime example: Stoll spends several pages placing the story of the Hatfields and McCoys into a historical context and making a broad analysis of the Hatfields and McCoys. BUT HE TELLS US VIRTUALLY NOTHING ABOUT THE HATFIELDS AND MCCOYS. My God, there have to be some great stories in there. Tell us what they are! Do I know who the Hatfields and McCoys are? Yes, I am a sentient, college-educated person and I have surely read their names in a high school history text book or seen them referred to as metaphors. But do I know the actual, real-life, dramatic stories of the Hatfields and McCoys? No, I do not. And after reading perhaps the longest passage I've ever read about them in my life (2 pages), I still don't know any of their stories. I appreciate what Stoll is trying to do with this book. I appreciate that Appalachia and its problems must be considered in a wider historical context. I appreciate that comparisons to other places and times can be helpful, relevant, and illuminating. I get it. But I just didn't like reading it. It wasn't interesting. It felt like a slog. Stoll often felt like he was lecturing me in a way I did not appreciate. And the parts of the history that I most wanted to learn about- the details of what coal mining did to both the people and the land, I learned very little about. Meh. But perhaps what annoyed me most was that Stoll's anti-narrative approach was so purposeful, and, it felt, judgy. Steven Stoll knows we (the readers) want to hear stories, and HE IS NOT GOING TO TELL US ANY. He is here to TEACH us things, to clear up our misconceptions (and we, the readers, have oh so many), to put it all in Context in the most pedantic way possible, and we (the readers) are petty for wanting stories. It is beneath us all to want to know what was up with the Hatfields and McCoys. It is undignified. And so, Steven Stoll will go on doing whatever it is that he does, and I'm returning to my one true love, Robert Caro. Except I've read every book he wrote. C'mon, Lyndon Johnson #5! I'm waiting for you, baby!

[Chrissy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wowza! This was quite a treatise! I was not expecting such all-encompassing coverage of Appalachian history; it’s own trail of tears. Some reviewers mention of Native American displacement but that was not the scope of the book and I couldn’t imagine having to read more cultural travesty than the book served up. No stone left unturned, I found it a fascinating and interesting plotting of the factors that fueled the steady dismantling of the culture by corporations.

Now at the end of my reading year I am re-editing some of my best-loved and found the ‘stars’ off on this one. I rated it five stars for the book itself and today noticed it had only one star from me??

My only complaint as I listened on audible and was the narrator saying, “Appa lay sha” even after the author’s early note that the region is pronounce APPLE AT CHA. Other than that, the reader was great, the book was awesome.
This would have made a great read for an American History class, oh, wait, except it was interesting and compelling and un-put-downable for me. And that is like no history book in my school years.
An advanced homeschooling family would love it for the incorporation of the world scene, the art...etc. Awesome on so many fronts.

[Pam Cipkowski · Rating 4 out of 5]

In a way, this is the antidote to Hillbilly Elegy and its claims of the need to lift yourself out of poverty. But be prepared for a long background history and lesson on capitalism, land tenure, and economics, as Stoll prefaces his look at Appalachia by examining the internal logic of makeshift economies. This is a moderately heavy academic read, so be prepared for an examination of English land history, as well as a diatribe on Hamiltonian politics and federalism coupled with capitalism, and how it relates to land acquisition in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

When talk turns to Appalachia itself, Stoll shows the fallacy of describing the inhabitants of this region as “poor,” and how the determination by some to turn them into “civilized folk” rested on instituting capitalism into the region in the form of an economy based on taxes and industry. As the timber camps and mining companies moved in with their underhanded techniques and flat-out land grabs, it is sobering to see how dependent the populace became on the companies. Again, much of this is mired in an academic viewpoint, but Stoll manages to make it terribly interesting and educational for those of us without his credentials.

What is both interesting and puzzling is that the coal industry has always been a volatile industry. When profits fall, companies cut wages and close mines. They have been doing that for more than a hundred years. So why do people today believe claims that coal is going to be saved and that the coal industry is going to be resurrected?Unfortunately, West Virginia’s elected representatives time and time again have voted against the good and the welfare of their citizens. The state’s schools, roads, healthcare, and environment were never helped by coal.

The final chapter is an eye-opener about what is happening to West Virginia, and it’s not good. Stoll, a proponent of democratic socialism, proposes a solution in the form of a model Commons Communities Act. One hopes that the residents of West Virginia heed the call of strong advocates and solutions that will work in their best interests.

[Bonnie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought this book was going to be about Appalachia, but most of it is about how peasants/farmers/agrarians have been screwed by capitalism. Stoll often seems like a hippie, favoring a romanticized "back to the land" movement. However, at the end of the book, he writes, "I favor democratic socialism and a reinvention of the nation-state as a conduit for meeting human needs rather than for accumulating capital." Here, here! But is this what the residents of Appalachia want? Did they approve of Obama's efforts to move from a coal-based economy to renewable energy sources? Did they support Hillary's efforts along the same lines? Nope. As Stoll writes, "It is difficult to find anything Appalachians have gained by voting for Republicans. Yet a majority in every county in West Virginia voted for Donald Trump in 2016." Stoll adds that while Trump might think he doesn't need to do very much to garner their support, "... the people can do better than that... They can demand more of their government. They can assert a right to land and livelihood and reparations from the corporations that used and abused them for so long. Maybe that can be the basis for a positive political identity."

Maybe, in some possible world. But I suspect that anyone pitching this idea in Appalachia would be regarded as a communist, and hooted out of town. The disconnect between Stoll's Marxist analysis and the actual lives of the people he's writing about makes this book a disappointment.

[Lynn Joshua · Rating 1 out of 5]

Dry, preachy (or maybe "teachy") and slightly patronizing. Yes, Appalachia and its problems must be considered in a wide historical context, but this was so wide and so full of rabbit trails that it was hard to make the connections he tried to make. His anti-capitalism message was clear, but not compelling.

[Mark Lievisse Adriaanse · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5

[John Ball · Rating 1 out of 5]

Don't Waste Your Time

Delusional, anti-capitalist tirade by a man who would like to see the world go back to subsistence farming. The author views the primitive, agrarian as an Eden and modern society as a debauchery. While many of the crimes he describes against the people of Appalachia are real, he views them all as inherent in capitalism, and the author says as much over and over and over.

[Xander · Rating 4 out of 5]

everything hillbilly elegy isn’t!! discusses the history of dispossession of both land and subsistence livelihoods (and with it autonomous existence) under extractive capitalism, focusing on appalachia but also stressing the greater relevance for indigenous communities and basically everyone else living under capitalism

[Ben · Rating 4 out of 5]

Stoll writes a winding narrative history of the land, policy, and people of the US highlands. It could certainly use some tightening; the book mirrors the land in the way it runs in confusing circles. That being said, it is worth reading. Below are some of the notes I had reading through the book (it's frustrating that goodreads does not support bullet point lists):

Like many interesting ideas, this one is obvious once it is pointed out: a transition into capitalism occurs when people pursue money as their primary source of subsistence as opposed to using it as a supplement to that which they create themselves.

The discussion of Hamilton is quite interesting -- the quotes from Federalist 13 used to demonstrate the power of money in creating and enforcing territorial boundaries are striking:

Civil power, properly organized and exerted, is capable of diffusing its force to a very great extent; and can, in a manner, reproduce itself in every part of a great empire by a judicious arrangement of subordinate institutions

One important note is that while Hamilton aimed to disrupt the barter economy and transition it into part of the capital (and therefore civic) enterprise, he did not wish to sever the people from the land that sustained them. Joint-stock corporations chartered by Virginia and later West Virginia had no such restraint. One point stressed repeatedly is that those who profit from the land are not of it; they are instead planters, capitalists, and financiers. Their work breaks the bond between the people who are of the land by destroying the commons.

Fleeting remarks about the huge transformation caused by war waged between Union and Confederacy; Stoll suggests that the damage caused by it paved the way for the rending of people from land.

The language used throughout is one where the capitalist system is (rightly and thoroughly) criticized. In later chapters, he presents some mock legislation enshrining smallholder's rights. Perhaps to most salient and obvious thing that could be done is the strict control/restriction of absentee landholding. Throughout the book he writes at length about the shadow system of property and deeds that lives alongside the legal one; the shadow system is often much more detailed though its documentation is sparse and not backed by the state.

Perhaps the biggest criticism of the book is the consistent romanticization of the poverty of smallholding. It is a bit unclear what peoples' living conditions were. Stoll makes a number of oblique references to their conditions but ultimately hand-waves away any seriously crushing poverty.

There are important and real critique of modern "development" thinking. This quote in particular stuck out to me:

Nonetheless, most development thought insists that the poor and hungry of the world -- people who took care of most of their own needs by farming and trading in once robust environments -- will be saved by somewhat different versions of the same thinking that made them poor in the first place.

[Brad · Rating 5 out of 5]

Essential reading for understanding the disastrous effects manifest destiny, modernization, and capitalism can have on communities attempting to exist outside--or better said in a different way--than the capitalist hegemony. Capitalism has winners and losers. We meet many of the losers in the hills of West Virginia. In addition to the destruction wrought through dispossession and the effort to make a quick buck, this book makes me think about how pessimistic the capitalist/modernist outlook on life can be. Survival of the wealthiest is a nasty business as depicted by Ramp Hollow. Impeccably researched, compellingly told, this was one of my very favorite books of 2017. Highly recommended!

[Fate's Lady · Rating 1 out of 5]

Other than a fairly brief mention, not much is made of the fact that these ignorant but capable residents who flouted capitalism and land ownership laws were also murderous settlers who themselves displaced Native Americans and contributed to an overall policy of theft, abuse, and genocide. Yep, they had it tough. They also, in many ways, brought it in themselves by first driving out the people who belonged to that land, them choosing to squat on it despite ownership claims from other settlers. Their romanticization was boring and exhausting.

[Peter Lotto · Rating 5 out of 5]

Unlike J.D. Vance's Hillbilly Elegy, a book that I found self serving and superficial, Ramp Hollow gives us an objective, scholarly history of the Appalachian Region and an honest assessment of how we got where we are. He also offers a solution, the book concludes with a multi-part manifesto of recommendations for government intervention and personal action. I'm not sure that give the current political climate and the deep tribalism of the region that any of Stoll's ideas will take root, but I give him credit for trying.

[Rebecca · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book was disappointing and definitely not what I thought I was going to read when I picked it up (misleading summary 😣). But I’m a “finisher”.

I agree with the other reviews that this a little too much “anti-capitalism” and not enough actual Appalachian historical background (wayyyy too much of everywhere else but Appalachia). Also agree that this feels like I was reading his dissertation.

Just not for me. Did not enjoy the author’s own political agenda thrown in there as well.

[Ajk · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fascinating way to place Appalachia in the world system and US history. Stoll does a great job demonstrating how Appalachia is in some ways unique but is in other ways a familiar periphery. The book can be technical at times, but it is very carefully written to place this region and its people into a context instead of in a bell jar.

[Michael · Rating 2 out of 5]

Admission: I read only about 50% of this book. While Mr. Stoll is undoubtedly very intelligent and knows his stuff, the book itself is a slog to get through. I hope you find it more readable than I did.

[George E · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not a whole lot to do with Appalachia, but a lot ot do with a history of capitalism and how it undermined, and is undermining subsistence living as a way of life in the world.

[CarolineFromConcord · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wish you would read this amazing book. It will challenge everything you thought you knew about history and open your eyes to how the dispossession of subsistence households that make a living off the "commons" has caused poverty to increase throughout the world. The book even offers ideas about solutions.

Although engagingly written, it took me a long time to finish because I had to stop and think about what I was learning and somehow incorporate it into my worldview. In addition, it was painful to see the ways we have all acquiesced to the self-justifying logic of greedy governments and corporations bent on upending sustainable living. Not everyone wants or is able to benefit from capitalism's pyramid scheme, which started with enclosure of publicly used lands and continues with corporations' unsupportable offers of long-term salaries around the world. ("We'll take the land you use and make it more productive. You'll be better off.")

Historian Steven Stoll says that the people he's concerned with in Appalachia "practiced household food production and vigorous exchange. The form of their economy likens them to peasants in other places and times. ... They depended on an extensive landscape that sometimes did but often did not belong to them."

The long-held and popular "stage theory" of history, he says, is a convenient way for usurpers to justify taking. They think of substistence farmers as a lower order who need raising up. "An 'advanced' society can justify moving a 'backward' one along. ... No degree of suffering on the part of the subject group, no death by famine or descent into wretchedness, invalidates the model."

I learned that in Appalachia, after absentee landlords of gigantic properties (think George Washington, Alexander Hamilton) pushed out the tribes and realized they could start making money from the land, dispossession took on the aura of a game with no rules. "Every squatter making a bid for ownership and every absentee with a colonial deed navigated the most fraudulent, dysfunctional, and maddeningly complicated property regime in the United States."

With numerous examples from around the world and from literature and art, Stoll tries to make us see what "household economy" looks like when it is left alone: People "growing a portion of their own food, hunting where and when they could, and exchanging vigorously for all the things they did not make."

Poverty, he says, has come from "forced inclusion of smallholders in the global economy, from colonial extraction, structured indebtedness, and dispossession. Nonetheless, most development thought insists that the poor ... will be saved by somewhat different versions of the same thinking that made them poor in the first place."

If you also read "Hillbilly Elegy," you should know that Stoll praises it as an eloquent memoir, one that "suggests that a strong mentor with a capacity to see beyond limited local opportunities can overcome self-defeat." But he adds that public policy can't be based on the luck of having a fierce, protective grandmother as JD Vance did. He even goes so far as to write unlikely but visionary legislation that could begin to rebalance a world out of whack. If you can't look for unlikely solutions, he says, you're accepting the status quo.

Please read this book.

[Adina · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked up this book, which had been sitting on my shelf for a few years waiting for me, because I had booked a cabin adjacent to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park with my family for this summer. The trip will be a first for the whole family, but a return for me. Likewise, this book marked a return to the subject-matter I had explored for my honors thesis back at Oberlin— who decides what land should be used for, and who it belongs to, and how it belongs to them? Although his focus is on the region in the United States that became known as Appalachia, Steven Stoll casts a wide net, seeking patterns in the stories of “smallholders” around the world who have been dispossessed of their land— not just the land to which they can lay legal claim, but the “ecological base” that makes their subsistence and small-time trade way of life possible. Stoll wrestles with the stories of dispossession, and I wrestle with them too. There is much sadness here due to loss. The clash of priorities and power that leads to dispossession seems inevitable. The systems that connect us to each other leave some people behind while others prosper. I find myself wondering if “sustainability” is something that is truly possible, or even desirable. I suppose it all depends on the time-scale and scope of your perspective. But aside from lamenting what happened to specific people in a specific time and place, one can always seek to make whatever choices they are at liberty to make based on recognizing that people value what freedom they have. Stoll puts it well: “The pessimistic scenario is not difficult to imagine... Optimism always requires greater effort. If our sense of the possible doesn’t contain an element of the unlikely, then it’s only a compromise with what is.” I will continue to struggle with my recognition of “what is” and my hopes for the best of all possible worlds...

[Arinn Dembo · Rating 4 out of 5]

A historical review of Appalachian history with a focus on political economy. Really interesting chapters on several topics, including the Rye Rebellion and other aspects of agrarian autonomy in the Appalachian mountains.

I appreciated the fact that the final chapter broadened the perspective and discussed how the economic and social woes of Appalachia are completely consistent with similar patterns of capitalist appropriation, exploitation, and abandonment of regions around the world. His argument was basically that Capitalism is a cycle of dispossession, which robs common people of their autonomous modes of living. Traditional ways of life, including the way of life that was practiced by Appalachian mountaineers before 1900, was based on close bonds to the land and the maintenance of forests, fisheries, rivers as other common resources.

By appropriating and driving people from the land, turning that land into clear cuts and mines, Capitalism robs them of their future. People are forced from lives which were simple and self-sufficient into lives that are insecure and dependent. Instead of owning their homes and working on their own gardens, hunting and trapping and fishing, and making small amounts of trade goods like whiskey to exchange for money and commodities that cannot be made locally...people have to abandon their homes and land, move to strange environments, take on roles as wage laborers in order to afford lodging as tenant. With no legal rights to their homes or any means of subsistence, they go from being "primitive" to being "poor". "Poverty" is a social role that they are forced into, so that others can profit.

A lot to think about in this book. I may return to it later; I think it may bear re-reading.

[Seth · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a sixth generation West Virginian, this book is a must read- An eye-opening journey that does a wonderful job of condensing centuries of human political theory and development into a comparative history that shows the prevalence of continuity and change over time.

Those who mistake the book as a harsh critique of capitalism miss seeing the forest for the trees. Stoll encapsulates the roots of Appalachia’s hardships by drawing comparisons to agrarian economies around the world. The weaving of social, cultural, and political histories highlights the breadth of capitalistic colonialism’s reach and brings a deeper understanding of Western idealism surrounding private property and ownership- For those not fully familiar with the area, it’s impossible to tell the story of Appalachia without critiquing the shortfalls of capitalism and commodity production. The view that humans are made for continual expansion and consumption, and the fact that this theory was the antithesis of white-settler Appalachian livelihood, brings us full circle in understanding the paradox of the American pioneer; Valued for their role in cementing Western expansion and individualism, but discarded when that self-sustaining individualism interferes with the competing psyche of market economies.

Though reading this book may require a prior understanding of some political and theoretical concepts, it’s well worth the read and magnificently portrays the history and struggle of one of the most misunderstood and marginalized regions in the country.

[Luis Ontiveros · Rating 5 out of 5]

Found this at a lovely bookstore in Charleston, WV, and only saw it and decided to buy it on a whim right as I was about to leave. I've been studying Appalachia for over two years now and got to visit in July 2025, and in that time I've read countless books and articles about the region, most of which I used to write my Master Thesis in 2023. In a way, I've found something like the culmination of my journey in this book. Steven Stoll masterfully answered so many of the lingering questions I had about the region, and illuminated many aspects of not only its history, but the broader history and foul logic of capitalism, which I did not know about before.

This has therefore become one of the most important, formative books I have ever read, and one I'm sure I will return to often, as already I have been thinking about it intensely while reading it. If I could recommend one book about not just Appalachia, but about the history of global and American capitalism, it would be this one.

[Robert Wechsler · Rating 4 out of 5]

An unusual book in that it goes off on tangents that are related to its essential story but, for the most, unnecessary. Most of them are both interesting and enlightening; some of them less so. But they do seem to keep Stoll from focusing on both the context of Appalachia and the central fact of importance to him: the loss of the forest commons that allowed for a decent life of subsistence farming, hunting, and foraging.

The history is fascinating, but when the coal/logging companies move in, history becomes overshadowed by ideology, and it’s not quite clear how Appalachians reacted beyond leaving, becoming coal miners (they don’t seem to become lumberjacks), or becoming impoverished. This is a very good book, but it could have been even better.

[Megan Doney · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn't finish this one. Partly it's because I have another interlibrary loan book that I have to finish (even more scholarly than this one) and partly because it just wasn't what I was looking for; I had hoped for something a bit more grounded in the specific human experience, rather than in grand forces of capitalism and labour. No criticism of the writer himself; it just wasn't what I could manage at the moment.