At Nature's Pace: Farming and the American Dream

by Gene Logsdon

Now in paperback, seminal, environmental and agricultural essays by the acclaimed journalist and Ohio farmer, Gene Logsdon, who has written regularly for publications such as Orion, Whole Earth Review, Mother Jones, The Utne Reader, Organic Gardening, and New Farm.

Genres: Nonfiction

208 pages, Paperback

First published January 25, 1994

Reviews

[Dooug · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a phenomenal spot on description of what I've been learning first hand about the trends of farming in the midwest. Logsdon starts without holding back making it clear why he writes: he's angry. And his reporting from the farm field to the university cuts to the truth of the matter faster than the axe he uses to chop wood (and don't be fooled, later in the book you get the impression he keeps his tools as sharp as his mind). Mid-way, the harsh critiques of conventional factory farms, loss of rural culture to urban ideals, and the degradation of agriculture education all ease up as he balances these with real world examples of better practices. He does so by exemplifying the strength of the community and economic strategies of the Amish in Ohio farming regions. After his strong case for the value of back to the basics farming, he wraps up with personal reflections approaching nearly spiritual introspection of the inherent priceless joys of working with nature. Anyone familiar with permaculture will recognize those principles echoed in his words throughout the book.
I was ravenous to continue reading and took three times more notes than usual. Everything he wrote was further validation for what I've learned and experienced while entering into the farming in Michigan's thumb, and the things I didn't know inspired me and I soon found the information entirely relevant, even though his words nearly 30 years old now.
I'd consider it a must read for those seeking to understand the legacy and history of farming and the potential for meaningful livelihood. Though I recognize that there's a newer "Living at Nature's Pace" that I'm eager to read, and will likely be more up to date. Nonetheless, I've already shared this book and bought it up in multiple conversations, I'd like to shelf it unto a "Consciousness Shift" shelf for me at this point in my life. Thank you, Gene!

[Ardis · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a collection of essays about farming in the Midwest that was written in the 1980s & 1990s that is still relevant today. The author talks about the harsh realities of farming and how it pertains to the so-called American dream, but is optimistic about the future. It is an inspiring read and I would recommend it to anyone.

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolutely fantastic collection of essays from the master contrary farmer. A must-read!

[KA · Rating 5 out of 5]

Everything you know about agriculture is false. And farmers have good reason to be skeptical, crusty, and even dismissive of a lot of government policies, and even more so of the received wisdom from the land-grant universities. Small is good, animal power is good, limited use of pesticides is helpful, going into debt is the WORST. In the "small family farm" crisis (language Logsdon is critical of as a self-fulfilling prophecy), Amish farmers continued to flourish, thanks to their thrift, their reliance on easy-to-fuel, regenerating horses, oxen, and people as power sources, and their communal outlook. Back-to-the-landers, whom Logsdon appreciates (would to God more Vermont farmers did) burnt out and got out not because they weren't prepared, but because the community needed to keep their farms going simply didn't exist anymore. (Which is why farmer-advocacy groups such as Rural Vermont and social gatherings such as Rising Farmers and Weed Dating are so important!) After one tornado in Ohio Amish country, the community rebuilds (and restocks with seed, feed, and livestock) four barns in three weeks. The barn-raisings each take a day; the bulk of the work is measuring and cutting. But they take care of each other. Logsdon remembers, from his youth, corn-shucking parties on winter evenings, when young people from his community gathered in one family's barn after another, shucking corn together and winning kisses from their sweethearts every time they shucked a red ear (red ears being more common then before everyone used hybrid seeds). Farming had its fun aspects, it was built on community, and at its best it respected the limits of land, livestock, and human resources.

One of the things I love about Logsdon is his inclusive use of the word "farmer." No scorn here for "hobby-farmers" or back-yard gardeners; Logsdon recognizes that all growing food and tending livestock is agricultural activity. Even someone like me, who as yet only has a few hens and a garden, partakes of the act of farming. And there's passion and joy: farming doesn't have to be as laborious as its made out, and even when it's hard work, it's work that gives self-respect and happiness to those who are called to it. Tim and I have often felt this way when we spend a long day working on the woodpile, cooking, hoeing, preserving, planting: the tiredness is a good tiredness, and it feels so immediate and precious to be doing work that sustains us directly, without the need of the third-party or the paycheck. It is work without alienation, and in communion with all life.