"Ecology of a Cracker Childhood": Response 4

Where Edward Abbey uses nature as a frame to explore and reflect on philosophy and personal opinion in “Desert Solitaire,” Janisse Ray seems to use family and personal history to more deeply explore nature in “Ecology of a Cracker Childhood.” The focus of her book is really the retelling of her childhood, but she weaves, rather nicely, enough description of her surroundings that nature and the environment become such a major factor they almost take over the narrative. That is not to say that she doesn’t include some personal opinion of her own. She is undoubtedly in favor of restructuring the forestry profession, evidenced in the chapter “The Kindest Cut.”

There is much more going on here than just nature and family though. I am particularly fond of the working class (you might even it call it poor or lower class) theme that resonates throughout the book. Her upbringing was one of poverty and hardship and she’s not afraid to tell us about it. Interestingly, my dad’s family owned a junkyard when he grew up in the 50’s and 60’s in a little town just southwest of Erie, Pa. Incidentally, he ended up becoming mayor of the same town (Platea). He was even responsible for bringing cable TV to the houses in the area. Ok, I’m getting off topic, but I couldn’t help but think, while reading Ray’s book, that I don’t know nearly enough about my dad’s childhood. I don’t have any junkyard stories to tell. Maybe, someday I’ll tell you how my dad’s leg caught fire and his brother, my Uncle John, put it out with his hands. But that might best be served in my memoir.

The truth is, though, I’ve often considered writing a memoir, but I am admittedly afraid of going to the darker places (places I think you need to go to if you want your story to be compelling enough to attract readers) and exposing that side of my family. Ray tackles this issue with what seems like little reservation. She’s not afraid to talk about her family’s history of mental illness or their propensity toward violence (which was primarily her grandfather). When she recounted the time she was beaten for allowing a neighbor kid to kill a snapping turtle, I was reminded of a memory I had almost forgotten. I don’t know if I was much older than ten when I walked with two other friends to Little Niagara, a small creek with a miniature waterfall just a couple miles from home. Luckily, I didn’t fall in or anything. But I was too dumb, or maybe just too young to make up a better story. When they asked, I told them where I was. My parents were judicious though; I could either take a spanking or miss the town carnival we were headed to that night. Cotton candy is just too alluring. The moral of the story is, nature sometimes leads to sore asses. Again, I’m getting off track…

I also admire the research that Janisse Ray puts into her book. She includes figures detailing the population of the area she grew up in, Longleaf acreage, and interviews with forestry professionals. She cites newspapers and other books on nature and she devotes an entire chapter to the heritage of the southern Celtic people, or Crackers. It’s one thing to simply write down a lot of personal anecdotes and call it memoir. It’s another to put in the hard work necessary to produce a quality piece of literature. This, I think, she has done. Probably, however, the one thing I liked most about this book – every couple essays (or sections…chapters maybe) include some story that reminded me of my own past. It’s always interesting to realize just how similar we are to people who don’t come from anywhere near where you do. The trees might be different, but the stories are often the same.