The relationship between town and country, between those who produce food and those who consume it (although, of course, farmers eat too, and city dwellers can grow food!) has not always been an easy one. However, with the added dimensions of global climate change and ever more mouths to feed that relationship is under more strain than it has ever been.
At first sight, Langford’s Rooted seems to be an unlikely candidate to help heal that relationship. Sarah and husband Ben are educated professionals living a good life in London. Intelligent, well connected and upwardly mobile, Sarah is content with being rooted in her city lifestyle. But, they both have strong rural connections in Suffolk including (in Sarah’s case) an Uncle who is an agricultural feature writing celebrity! And, boy, has she inherited that ability to write!
As I began reading, my feeling was that I needed to be convinced. Sarah and Ben relocate from London to Suffolk to take over Ben’s family’s small farm. This is privilege. So many other young families would love such an opportunity, but getting on that farming ladder is fiendishly problematic. My hope was that Sarah would handle this sensitively. She does.
The book is split between Sarah and Ben’s own experiences as they begin their farming career and chapters that shift the focus to other farmers up and down the country. The Langfords decide that the only way for them to farm their land is in sympathy with nature and decide to pursue what is called ‘regenerative farming’. The farmers featured in this book are doing something similar.
At the heart of ‘Rooted’ is the author’s concern at the pressure farmers are under. They will be needed more than ever to produce food, but many of them feel as though they are blamed unfairly for so many things ranging from a broken food system to biodiversity loss. Whilst farming must take its share of the blame, for the most part individual farmers feel like pawns on the board lacking effective agency.
As Sarah writes, “Food is no longer seen as a public good, but as a public given. This shift in mission is both huge and difficult, because farming is more than just a job. It is an identity.” And then later, “But behind all the anger is this. Oh, how it sticks in the craw to be told he is destroying the world for doing what he has been asked to do.”
The farming stories told in this book are informative, illuminating and at times deeply moving. They deal with issues such as isolation, economic hardship, generational tensions and pride in a job well done. There are moments of profound insight of which the following is just one example:
Isolation and independence often go hand in hand on the family farm. Lots of potentially damaging stuff is internalised and finds expression only much later. Sarah identifies this phenomenon in these powerful words:
“Father and son talk about it in the way some British men talk, where something small actually means something really big. Like when their brother dies and their eyes stay dry, but then the old dog dies and they cry and howl and rage at the sky and rock its body in their arms, and everyone knows it is really their brother they are cradling.”
There is much insight, creativity and sensitivity in this book. It does what is says in the title, it is about what it means to be rooted. It is a plea for an increasingly urban nation not to forget or, even worse, to demonise its farmers. Referencing etymology and religious ritual Langford calls for a recognition of staying connected to the earth, “We are designed to be earthed. We grow the food that keeps us alive from it. We will end up part of it.”
Fabulous book. No hesitation in giving it top marks!