
Every once in awhile I encounter a book that makes me slightly covetous. Usually, my envy rears itself in the manner of “I wish I had written that.” But sometimes it comes in the form of “I wish I had lived that.” Reading Barbara Kingsolver’s new non-fiction work, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, which she wrote with her husband, Steven Hopp, and eldest daughter Camille, about her family’s home-grown experiment in local eating, is one of those books. Gratefully, the envy I feel now after reading this book may be more easily satiated than the yen I have been left with after concluding some wild travelogue or great spiritual memoir. The solution (or should I say absolution) to my dipping into the second deadly sin may be as simple as planting my own garden.
Kingsolver’s book begins with her family’s departure from their home in Arizona to a farm in Virginia. Of the reasons for the move, Kingsolver lists the desire to “live in a place that could feed us” as a compelling motivation to leave Tucson, a city which, she says, “might as well be a space station where human sustenance is concerned” given its extreme dependency on external supplies of food and water. Kingsolver’s descriptions of unchecked growth in the water scarce Sunbelt intone a precarious future if our habits of consumption do not change. The image of an overdrawn Colorado River—now running dry before it reaches the ocean—seems to be a fitting, if tragic, portent of things to come.
Once in Virginia, Kingsolver’s family begins the work of getting off the global industrial food grid—described by wasteful fossil fuel consumption, cruel factory farm practices, unsustainable environmental policies, and unfair labor practices—and becoming locavores, growing the bulk of their own food and buying the rest through local food producers. But contrary to what I might have imagined a year of growing one’s own food is like—long, hard days of backbreaking work for a meager crop of turnips and potatoes—Kingsolver’s monthly reports from the farm tell a story of beauty and abundance that, though not without labor, recovers the lost value in being a part of and knowing the land on which our lives depend. Kingsolver is not a legalist, however, and makes allowances for special purchases of food items that cannot be obtained locally, such as coffee, chocolate, and spices, if they meet fair trade standards.
Reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle I was shocked by my ignorance about the food I eat. Though raised in the heavily irrigated San Joaquin Valley with orchards and vineyards on all sides of my small town, I internalized little of the agricultural realities and challenges of my environment. The simple idea of eating seasonally, for example, never crossed my mind when the grocery stores my family frequented presented mangos in February as though a gift to us fog-trodden Central Californians. And no one told me the true story of how turkeys are raised for our Thanksgiving table (hint: Google “turkey” and “artificial insemination”). But Kingsolver’s book provided a good beginning instruction to the origins of my food.
As one who has only dabbled in vegetarianism, I was encouraged by Kingsolver’s reflections on meat consumption. She writes persuasively on this issue in her chapter “You Can’t Run Away on Harvest Day.” The word harvest, in this context, refers to the day when Kingsolver, her family, and a few friends butcher the chickens and turkeys they have so carefully raised. Though sympathetic to many of the concerns raised by vegetarians and vegans, she believes it is possible, and sometimes preferable, to be an ethical meat eater, defined here as a rejection of meats from CAFOs (Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations) and a promotion of organic, free-range meat production mindful of the need for restrained, humane and conscientious eating habits.
Citing the wasteful use of fuel to haul produce halfway around the globe to stock American grocery stores with tropical fruit in mid-winter, Kingsolver writes: “Should I overlook the suffering of victims of hurricanes, famines, and wars brought on this world by profligate fuel consumption? Bananas that cost a rain forest, refrigerator-trucked soymilk, and prewashed spinach shipped two thousand miles in plastic containers do not seem cruelty-free, in this context. Giving up meat is one path; giving up bananas is another. The more we know about our food system, the more we are called into complex choices. It seems facile to declare one single forbidden fruit, when humans live under so many different kinds of trees.”
We are being called into complex choices about our food. My husband once half-joked that many of the problems in American society might be traced back to Burger King’s motto: Have it your way. But living with an awareness of the complex factors affecting our food system means that we cannot ethically support the immediate gratification of having it our way—including eating at Burger King. But given the strong claims Kingsolver makes, I found myself wishing citations had been included in the text itself to better ground her arguments. Her husband, a professor of environmental studies, includes pithy “Did You Know?” type sidebars throughout the book that provide economic and scientific rationale for locavorism. And her college-aged daughter provides her own perspective along with simple and popular family recipes. But I still wanted to know more and, like I now do with my food, where my information was coming from. Blessedly, a reference and resource guide included at the end of the book gives me a trail of articles and books on this subject. A pile of library books on the issue of food ethics sits by my bed now. And yes, the more I read the more complex my choices become. But this is a good thing—to have to exercise my ethical and spiritual commitments in such a meaningful way every day—every meal—of my life. What would it mean if the most basic act of human existence—eating—became as fundamental to our ethical life as prayer is to our spiritual life as voting is to our civic life.
For myself, I want to live in a world where our ethics and spirituality and civic responsibilities are not so far apart as they appear now. I want to live in a world where turkeys are free to roam about in the field and procreate the good old fashioned turkey way. Most importantly, I want to live in a world where human beings make choices not simply on the basis of what feels good but what is good. Before I even finished Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, I found myself pulling weeds from the little plot of rented land, inspired to plant my very first garden.
Heather Isaacs Royce writes from Napa, CA, where she is a hospice chaplain.
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver with Steven L. Hopp and Camille Kingsolver is available from Amazon.com.
Comments
I've long been a fan of Barbara Kingsolver's fiction, and quickly found myself loving this book as well (full disclosure: Heather is a good friend and she recommended this book several weeks ago to me). I found myself eager to share this book (and my husband can attest to how frequently I interrupted him, telling him I just had to share something fascinating or insightful—or often both—with him).
I was raised as an Adventist vegetarian, but I’ve stayed vegetarian for other reasons. As I’ve become more educated about food issues, food ethics, sustainability, etc., I’ve been surprised by how little Adventists tend to know about these topics, probably because we’ve traditionally heralded vegetarianism as a purity/holiness code, not as an ethics/sustainability issue. (I remember being surprised when vegetarians served jello or marshmallows and then were in turn surprised when I declined on the basis of being a vegetarian.)
Living in San Francisco, people assume I’m vegetarian because I’m an animal rights activist, or an environmentalist, which often seems to induce them to confess—I get a lot of, “I’m almost a vegetarian” in apologetic tones.
I loved how Kingsolver challenged my thinking in all sorts of areas in this book—I have a much more complex vision of food now, and although I was never a strident or evangelistic vegetarian, I now have an even more nuanced view of the complicated issues that go into our food choices, including whether or not to eat meat. Like you say in your review, I was left wanting “to live in a world where human beings make choices not simply on the basis of what feels good but what is good.”
Most of all, this book left me longing for a food culture. Kingsolver talks a great deal about how America lacks a food culture—if we have one, it’s fast food or a culture of denial (e.g. “no carbs”). I’d hope that Adventism with its health message would have helped create a food culture within its membership, but instead we have a lot of guilt or superiority complexes where it can seem like we vie for holiness passes based on what we exclude from our diets. But Kingsolver’s point is that food cultures exist because of what we include, not because of what we exclude (think of France or Italy and the bountiful foods we associates with those cultures). I hope to start a food culture in my own home—one of gratitude, bounty, and a sense of connectedness with our food and each other.
Hi Daneen and Heather,
I'm glad you enjoyed the book. I was attentive to this statement. "I was raised as an Adventist vegetarian, but I’ve stayed vegetarian for other reasons. As I’ve become more educated about food issues, food ethics, sustainability, etc., I’ve been surprised by how little Adventists tend to know about these topics, probably because we’ve traditionally heralded vegetarianism as a purity/holiness code, not as an ethics/sustainability issue."
As I stated previously on this subject, I am all for anyone being a Vegan/Vegetarian for whatever reason they choose to be...purity,sustainability/ethical. In fact, if they are convinced of it for themselves by the Holy Spirit then they should follow that call.
I am equally convinced that Vegan/Veg.is not a Biblical requirement for all Christians and it never will be. If it is ever "required", I am convinced that it would be heresy. Let all be convinced in their on minds.
Regards,
Pat
PS.
Daneen and Heather,
Perhaps you would enjoy reading, "Conscious Eating", Gabriel Cousens,M.D. North Atlantic Books, 2000. 850 pp.
This book was given to me by a Zen Buddhist who is a Veg./Vegan and EGW is referenced pp.391-394.
An interesting chapter is also the last EM(TM) "A Boon for the new Millenium." This chapter might fit into your ethical/ sustainability concerns.
Pat
Ladies:
I liked Stephen's comment--
"If every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we would reduce our country’s oil consumption by over 1.1 million barrels of oil every week. That’s not gallons, but barrels. Small changes in buying habits can make big differences. Becoming a less energy-dependent nation may just need to start with a good breakfast."
I used to live on 23 acres and had a 30x50 garden every year. I love fresh fruits and vegetables. I Usually only eat meat a couple times a week and absolutely love non fat milk and peanut butter sandwiches. I appreciate others liberty of choice to eat all things in moderation as the best guide to mental and physical health.
To bad we have lost the Biblical concept of having land and raising our food...there they shall not plant and another eat and they shall not build and another inhabit. "Division of Labor" has its upside and downside.
Perhaps our biggest problems is lack of exercise and obesity with it's related health problems...what do you think?
Hi Pat--Sounds like you do know more about where your food comes from than most of us. I have to admit I know little--but I'm learning. I like that quote you pulled out above because it emphasizes how little changes really make a big difference. If we all just asked our favorite grocery store if they'd bring in more local produce (and then, of course, buy it), or ask at restaurants if they buy locally, we could make a huge difference.
I don't know if we've lost a Biblical concept, so much as our world has changed a great deal--the Bible was written to either nomadic or agrarian peoples and we've become industrialized. It's not practical for me to work on a farm; my job skills require me to live near population centers, but I sure can make a choice about what my money supports.
Just a little story out of the distant past. In 1966 we moved from Loma Linda to Augusta, Ga. I accepted a position to build a School of Dentistry, recruit a faculty, and design a curriculum. We arrived in Augusta in the middle of August.
I had to return to Loma Linda to finish the Summer quarter before my succcessor was to take the helm.
Betty was alone with two grade school children in a rerntal house that need fumigating badly. Our Eldest was away a boarding Academy.
Betty went to the local super market. The produce section was ochra and turnip greens plus nothing. Betty asked the manager if they could put in a full range of fresh vegetables. He replied: "That's impossible!" Betty's retort was: "Well I had no trouble getting them in California!!!" The response was "Lady why then don't you go back to California?" Betty with a sob said: "I wish I could!"
The next day I returned to Augusta and got the entire sorry encounter. Never-the-less we persisted, Now the markets all carry Loma Linda quality fruits, vegetables, and staples. It seems that the Vietnam war brought an entirely new ethnic culture to the old South.
41 years later we wouldn't return to California, except possibly to sit in Graham Maxwell's S.S. Class.
Now that is meat in due season!
Tom
Tom, I love your stories (including your WWII experience in my country as well as theopolitical battles in our institutions). Now, not my story but what I witnessed of the experience of others. First, at the Blantyre Adventist Hospital in Malawi, there was a Swiss doctor (C. Peter Jaggi) whose Sabbath School class in his home was known as the "Papaya" Bible Study. Members of his class often went home carrying some produce that Dr Jaggi and his wife Vreny (Verona) picked from their own garden. The sub-tropical to temperate climate, where Blantyre is located, allowed the doctor to grow apples and oranges, as well as fruits and vegetables that the native gardens didn't customarily grow.
Second, at the Heri Adventist Hospital in western Tanzania. I was told that back in the '60s, Loma Linda had an extension health school that included a program of introducing farm produce that local planters didn't supply. It was a thriving program, I was told, until it stopped for whatever reason. Nevertheless, during my recent stay there with Dr Niels Oster, before his retirement, I witnessed remnants of the exported influence in the farm and food culture of the surrounding community and villages.
Briefly, my wife and I are vegans basically. I may also eat what I'm offered, ie. food that is culturally acceptable. (The Chinese have a theory: if Eve had been like one of them, instead of eating the fruit she should have cooked the snake instead. Hmm...)
Joselito
I was on the Loma Linda Board when that happened. the vote was 39 for closing and 3 for keeping it. I was one of the three--a minority position I have enjoyed several times. It seems that after 8-10 years the project had yet to show a profit. My point was, we have many less worthy projects that haven't shown a profit in a generation or more--but we keep them because Counsel to Something or Other says so. Well my point was dietary advancement was a prime Counsel of the Spirit of Prophecy. So we built a gym on the grounds, then demolished it to build even bigger. I hope it advances the cause. Tom
Tom, thanks for sharing your side of what happened to the Loma Linda health experiment at Heri, from the perspective of those who sat with you in the North American command center of our Adventist mission abroad. Everything was not lost, however, since remnants of a new food and farm culture was fostered alongside what western Tanzanians had lived with for centuries. Is not something positive and similar happening still in North America, consequent to globalization, transnational immigration and multi-directional acculturation?
Dear Heather & others who are interested,
I am sure you are by now familiar with Michael Pollan's books, but just in case: for more information about the American food system, I would highly recommend The Omnivore's Dilemma. Pollan is a journalist who unwinds the complex ethical complications of the industrial food system, industrial organic, vegetarianism, etc. He tackles the moral implications of "What's for dinner?" with the kind of care that honors how complex these issues really are. The book is also a very enjoyable read.
Thank you for your article, I will have to take a look at Kingsolver's book!
Sincerely,
Danielle
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