When I Put Down a Book Now

I am not sure which blog this post merits. The topic concerns a YA science-fiction trilogy I dropped half-way through its second book. Yet the topic here is more about how we choose to spend our time, our slow, curated time. So I think the rural-life blog is the place.

A student recommended it, and I really enjoyed the first book of the Arc of the Scythe books. The first I found fresh: instead of the typical YA dystopia, we get a flawed utopia, a perfect world of immortal humans overseen by a benevolent and sentient AI, The Thunderhead. It's a place without war, poverty, or serious crimes. If you become "deadish" you can be brought back in most cases. Climate change has been solved. 

 For SF that would be a boring concept, and a good novel needs tension, so we have the Scythes, a secretive order beyond The Thunderhead's power, each of them tasked to "Glean" 200 people per year. This, in theory, reduces human population and also introduces uncertainty into a perfect world. 

I loved the concept. That said, I put down the second book unfinished. Reading the plot of it and the final volume proved interesting, but not enough to continue. Why?

Lately, as I enter my last 30 years on this rock, I decided to say "NO" loudly to most books, movies, or TV that people say I simply must experience. I don't get as many of these "must do" orders nowadays about books; in fact, too many friends have stopped reading books and that horrifies me.

Frankly, a good deal of what does get recommended bores me. Besides, I'm less interested in fiction now and more interested in knowing where we came from, who we were, and why we ended up the way we did. Thus, I read more histories and biographies of an academic and not popular sort. I've books on tap about the financial struggles of Mark Twain, the journal of Sir Ernest Shackleton (having read Endurance I want the man's own words), and works about America's Founding Fathers.

Yet I do continue to read fiction, including some SF. I'm in the midst of Ursula K. LeGuin's brilliant novella "Buffalo Gals, Won't You Come Out Tonight?" It's as fantastical  as the Scythe books: a child awakens from the crash of a small plane to find herself in the company of Native-American animal spirits who pose as human beings. The characters, however, are far from flat and their motives are not fully explained (a typical narrative device that annoys me about a good deal of YA I've read). 

Other fiction I've read recently has been by masters of concealment: Kazuo Ishiguro and Naguib Mahfouz. More Edith Wharton and Willa Cather (some of which I'll re-read) await me. I cannot wait to savor Cather's Death Comes For the Archbishop again; it's one of my all-time favorite novels.

My remaining years are too short to read all the books I want. If I manage one a month for the next 30 years, that's only 360 books. So it's time to choose wisely. No more fluff or formulaic stories.

What draws me to reading? The desire to learn first, or enter a fictional world where I feel completely immersed yet gets populated by characters I care about. That's where the Scythe books failed me totally. I felt no emotional connection to the good characters or the rather flat evil ones. An author can pull something off amazing by crafting a villain we find interesting. Some bestsellers do that, as with All the Light We Cannot See.

Compared to A Pale View of Hills or Midaq Alley, so many modern novels of a popular sort are like eating fast food instead of having a slow, curated feast. No more please.

 

Some Sad Thoughts About Using Roundup (And Why I Do)

A piece about weeds appeared in the New York Times recently and readers erupted when the article's author mentioned the usefulness of Roundup. Granted, many of the respondents are not small farmers; they only have to deal with pests like poison ivy on a quarter-acre lot. 

 Our fence-lines are full of the pesky plant, and we are taking over 1000' feet of fence and growing. That's small by most small-farm standards. Then we have invasive vines and other plants that become "Copperhead Road" in breeding season. That means getting things done before 8am many mornings. We work hard to keep the fences clear. Glyphosate-based herbicides like Roundup keep them that way for a few years, when applied correctly.

Beekeeping was long a concern for us as we battled weeds in the fences; we are winding that down because the summers are simply too hot and the miticides too potent to make us want to work hives in July and August. We'll keep our gear but our last hives will go to a younger beekeeper. For native pollinators we continue to plant for them, and our limited use of herbicide does not occur on plants they frequent.

As for the weeds, Hot water and other organic solutions won't work. A burning torch would, but not if it starts a wildfire. Reluctantly, I began to apply Roundup as directed on the bottle of concentrate, spraying the plants early in the day when the wind is still. 

I'd welcome other solutions that work on the scale of a small farm. Our extension agency was NO help, a biologist suggesting we spray a field we want for native plants with $10,000 worth of Roundup to kill everything and start anew. It would get rid of invasive Stilt-Grass all right, but the environmental and monetary costs are beyond our desire. Instead, we'll bring in Mountain Mint and other plants that stifle the invasive.

 And so it goes in strange times, ones likely to get stranger in years to come.

Image: publicdomainpictures.net