Description:
Memoirs by urbanites who homestead in the country and learn hard lessons in the bargain are many, but few attain the depths of a Walden or Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Readers of those books will want to spend time with Kathleen Meyer's sometimes playful, sometimes somber Barefoot Hearted, which brings a resolutely modern sensibility to some ancient problems--among them, how to live with the creatures on whose homes humans have intruded, and how to learn the arts of self-sufficiency. Meyer, the author of the indelicately titled but highly useful How to Shit in the Woods, recounts how she and her partner set about making an old Montana barn into a fit home. The job was daunting, she learned: in winter, the place was so cold that she had to bundle up in gear befitting an Antarctic explorer, no easy garb for, well, performing certain functions. And, she found, the barn and its environs had become a shelter for many animals, some of which she welcomed (among them bats and, strangely, skunks), some of which she reluctantly waged war against (specifically a never-ending army of mice). She sets those challenges against a thoughtful, ongoing discussion that touches upon important philosophical issues: the responsibilities of those who live on the edges where civilization and wilderness meet, and the responsibilities of humans to preserve what little of wild nature is left in a time of wholesale extinction and slaughter. Wise, literate, and often moving, Meyer's memoir is required reading for anyone contemplating a move to places beyond the avenue--and for anyone who values a good story well told. --Gregory McNamee
| 
