In Mossback, David Pritchett traverses geography, history, and genealogy to explore landscapes and mythologies at the intersection of environmental, indigenous, and social justice. This collection of a dozen essays searches terrain—from the heart of a swamp to the modern grid lines remaking our watersheds, to the tracks of the animals who share this earth, to the inner landscapes of the soul—to find glimpses of light in dark places and hope in painful legacies.
Pritchett recounts a trip to Dismal Swamp, where he takes inspiration from the many enslaved people who found refuge there. Another piece offers two ways of seeing the the watershed as an ecological unit, and the grid as a colonial construct. Still another weaves personal narrative with the story of the Trail of Tears to describe how settler colonialism became an apocalypse for indigenous nations and ecologies. Pritchett explores an early apocalyptic story from the book of Daniel and considers new ways of relating to the land and its inhabitants. He focuses on the relationship between technology and trees to argue that humans have largely discarded ecological interrelationship in favor of extractive ways of living, and he travels the Ventura River, reflecting on waterways as being endangered but still operating as places of refuge for people and wildlife.
The word “mossback” has been used to describe rural southerners who lived in swampy areas during colonial times and moved so slowly that moss grew on their clothing. It is also used to describe fish and turtles who show similar growth on their shells, Confederate deserters who refused to fight and, after the war, southerners who fought against the Ku Klux Klan. Pritchett reclaims the word to celebrate those who move deliberately through the natural world, protecting the land and the relations they depend on.
Well crafted and extremely readable collection of essays on how to resist the global capitalist/colonial culture of rootless exploitation and find a reciprocal relationship with the earth. Uses a combination of personal anecdotes from the author’s varied experiences, quotations and pulls from a indigenous elders, black history, and other well researched and relevant sources to fill in a broader perspective. Lots of interesting science and facts I didn’t know as someone who reads a lot of environmental literature (like did you know trackers can read when an animal turns it’s head to look at something in their prints and why?) tied back into the bigger message which doesn’t rely on easy answers or platitudes. I would recommend this to folks who enjoyed braiding sweetgrass or to white leftists whose politics are not yet integrated with ecology. While it is a book of essays that you could read alone they all build on eachother and I wouldn’t have thought of them as essays, just chapters unless the back blurb described them that way. I would gladly read more from this author!
I have mixed feelings about this book – it reads like it was self-published, with beautiful chunks of well-written prose are interrupted by what feels like irrelevant tangents. I don’t think that means the book isn’t worth reading, I just think it takes a moment to get to the good parts, and you might skim or skip the rest. It isn’t the most engaging read, but…*shrugs* Supporting small authors and publishers is important, right?
The book starts off with an essay about Black History and swamps, and the author takes on the distinctive voice and writing style of people from that time – come to find out the author is a white male, and I don’t know. I have mixed feelings.
“Like a Mountain” and “After Apocalypse” were my favorite essays of the ones I read (though I did skip the interjections of roman tangents).
Unfortunately, I will be DNFing this book at 35%, but just because it wasn’t for me, doesn’t mean it won’t be for you. Rent this one from the library.
I really enjoyed these essays about exploring and finding resonance with the environment around us. They can go down offshoots at times, but the author brings us back to the trail. It's that meandering that helps paint the picture of a slower, more thoughtful, existence. One that considers us more a part of the natural world, rather than a separate entity looking to exploit it. One that looks to nature as a means of freeing us from ourselves, in a sense.
What a book of longing, hope, wisdom and powerful questions! The lyrical writing draws you in and eases the reader into Nature and Imaginings the author shares. Pritchett uses the body, earth’s landscapes, Nature’s animals and human stories to draw readers into a deep knowing. A knowing that beckons readers to live slowly, intentionally and with eyes and hearts open. Beautifully done!
David Pritchett is a humble and insightful guide over the terrain of his life and the lessons he’s gleaned from being a seeker, adventurer, and collector of stories.
Populated by birds, coyotes, catfish, and metal-and-plastic-eating bacteria, these essays illuminate and entice towards erotic relationship to our watersheds.
I savored this book and will return to it again and again for grounding and guidance.
This book came to me at a time when I needed to touch grass in a spiritual and relational sense. I will be coming back to it, scribbling in the margins, for a long time. Accessible and easy to read for folks without much background in these topics. Would recommend.