Self-Satisfied

This book is almost universally recognized as the "bible" of self-sufficient living, and with good reason. 

Helen and Scott Nearing turned their backs on urban civilization in 1932, determined to find a way of living that didn't involve mortgaging their waking hours -- and hence, their lives -- to earning money to purchase goods and services (that's a really modern take on their intention, but it takes considerably fewer words to say it this way). Instead, they resolved to live as independently as possible. The Good Life: Helen and Scott Nearing's Sixty Years of Self-Sufficient Living tells how they accomplished that goal, first in Vermont and later in Maine. 

Not only were the Nearings willing to put in the hard work involved -- building their own house with the materials at hand and growing their own food, for starters -- they clearly thought their plans through, focusing on frugality, practicality, and community. Their version of a (largely) money-free existence often goes against first impressions. They are very adept at teasing out the simplest, wisest option from conventional wisdom. 

For example, the Nearings chose to build a new house from local materials instead of fixing up an older house on their property. Their reasoning was that even after putting plenty of work and money into fixing an old house, you still have an old house which is liable to require continued upkeep and will never, no matter how much you work on it, be new again. Counter-intuitive, right? 

The Nearings didn't keep animals for a similar reason: too much time and trouble for the benefits achieved -- plus avoiding the issue of exploitation. Apparently not everyone who runs back to the land winds up with a menagerie of chickens, cows, and whatnot. This emphasis on pragmatism dovetails nicely with the Nearings' focus on eating for health, which means nutritious, home-grown food from plants. The time they might spend caring for animals can be spent gardening, foraging, and building good soil for next year's crops.

Of course, there must be money sometimes. For that there were writing and speaking engagements, which are barely mentioned but operate as a shadow input to life on the farm. There was also a cash crop, chosen to be relatively low-maintenance and provide a solid return for the amount of work expended. Blueberries and maple syrup are two examples: very demanding during the season of picking or sugaring, and essentially effort-free during the rest of the year.  

It is all very interesting. It is also somewhat tedious. It's good to live a conscious life, but I am not sure about an eating schedule which involves aiming to achieve 50% fruit, 35% vegetables (1/3 green and leafy, 1/3 yellow, and 1/3 juicy), 10% protein and starch, and 5% fat. It all sounds delicious and healthy, but I would get tired of the math! Almost every aspect of life is measured and quantified in a similar way. It sounds rigid, but it certainly adds to the book's usefulness for those who want to live similarly.  

It also seems that timing helped fuel the project, though that is barely mentioned. Surely the Great Depression influenced the Nearings' decision to homestead and fueled the parade of folks who came to stay with them and who were generally welcomed to join the community. True to form, those folks were classified by their length of stay as guests (not expected to help with the work), transients (expected to help half the time), and residents who lived on the property (expected to participate fully in projects). By the time the Nearings moved to Maine in 1952, they were on the cusp of 1960's counter-culture, which provided another wave of visitors and helpers.    

Thoughtfulness and meticulous planning are a double-edged sword: the Nearings' certainty about the best methods of living shades into smugness and self-satisfaction, and that gets tiresome. I have no doubt the Nearings relished their lives. I doubt that I would.      

Excerpt:

Each day was divided into two main blocks of time -- four morning hours and four afternoon hours. At breakfast time on week-days we first looked at the weather, then asked "How shall we arrange the day?" Then by agreement we decided which of those blocks of time should be devoted to bread labor [work on farm projects or cash crops] and which to personally determined activities. Of necessity the weather was the primary factor in making the decision.

Suppose that the morning was assigned for bread labor. We then agreed upon the tasks that each member of the group should take on -- in the garden, in the woods, on construction, in the shop, at surgarmaking or packing. If one's bread labor was performed in the morning, the afternoon automatically became personally directed. One might read, write, sit in the sun, walk in the woods, play music, go to town, We earned our four hours of leisure by our four hours of labor. . . .

There was no boss. No one pushed anyone else around. When Hank Mayer worked with us, he came from a big construction job. After the first day, he said skeptically, "I don't see how you get anything done around here. Nobody is yelling at anyone else."  

Note: This book counts toward the Mount TBR Reading Challenge.