Richard Jefferies (1848–1887)

I was led to The Story of My Heart by the mention of soul-thought in Murnane’s Border Districts (a book I didn’t much like). That The Story of My Heart exists at all is a good reason to give it 4 stars. No matter that it provides no answers to the questions posed. Have we not all engaged in soul-thought but not given it a name? Richard Jefferies hymn to nature and soul-thought 'the mind of my mind', struggles, as we all struggle, with ’the lack of words to express ideas.’ But that struggle is half the point. The important thing is to look for more.

I feel that I know nothing, that I have not yet begun; I have only just commenced to realise the immensity of thought which lies outside the knowledge of the senses. p. 143.

If this is not a blatant contradiction, I found I was most engaged whenever Jefferies was both intimately connected, yet disconnected from nature, as he was/is from ideas and human history. Our separateness is part of our condition and one which is difficult to reconcile.… (altro)

Mr. Jefferies tells of pretty much all we, today, need to know about the life of a Gamekeeper back in the day when it was pretty much universally considered to be sport to shoot things or it was a necessary action to stay alive or make a living illegally. He explains the tools and weapons used by "sportsmen" and poachers, the wonderful ways that the English Estate wildlife existed, the homes that gamekeepers and their wives made for themselves and their families, and where he fitted in the English caste system. It was all very interesting if a bit boring in its presentation on these pages.… (altro)

Marvelous (but also disturbing) book from the 1800’s- others have described it as something like Tom Sawyer or Lord of the Flies and I heartily agree. It also reminded me a lot of Ernest Thompson Seton’s Two Little Savages. Bevis is the son of a landowner in rural England- and he pretty much runs around doing whatever he pleases. When the story opens, it drives straight into his efforts to build a raft out of odds and ends- I was baffled for a few pages wondering who this kid was, where he lived, what the heck he was doing, but then caught up in his unwavering intent to find items that would work to make what he wanted- because I’m a bit like that myself, when building something or other for the garden. After making the raft he goes on to rig a little (and very awkward it sounds) sailboat, he and his friend carve a boomerang, make a matchlock gun (!!), practice with bows and arrows, shoot targets with their various weapons, learn how to swim, roam around hunting rabbits and birds with their dog, stage a battle with a bunch of other boys- taking sides and planning strategies the whole nine yards, and so on and on and on.

The part I remember best is middle to the end, where Bevis and his friend Mark build a camp on an island in a lake near home, lie to their parents that they’re at someone else’s house for a visit, and live rough for a week or so. They fish, hunt small game, make pitiful attempts at cooking over a fire (with supplies filched from home like flour, potatoes, matches etc), construct a sundial, track animals pretending everything is exotic- the other kids trying to find their secret place are ‘savages’, the rabbits are ‘kangaroos’ the wood doves are ‘parrots’ you get the idea. They have to solve a little mystery of what is coming into their camp when they’re away stealing food, and another about what animal makes a wave just under the water’s surface (I thought it would be the otter but it was a type of diving bird). I was very sad when they shot the otter. It really is a story from a different time- the kids live in casual abundance- the pages are swarming with beautiful descriptions of nature, lush plant growth, myraid small wild things- which the boys delight in tracking, chasing and killing. They shoot birds for their feathers with no remorse, and are really proud of the otter skin. When they finally go home everyone praises their accomplishments and the father teaches them how to improve their shooting skills (this went on for way too many pages in my opinion). I was rather fascinated by the descriptions of sailing, though. Amazed at how ingenious the kids were at making things from observation and experiment alone. Appalled at how often they beat and kicked their dog to make it behave, and how they ignored the abject poverty the workmen’s children lived in, right alongside them on the farm but their suffering unseen.

It’s lively, full of adventure, boy’s squabbles and petty cruelties, and the richness of nature. I found it a compelling read, even though some things bothered me.

more at the Dogear Diary… (altro)