Remembering Wendell Berry

In a news week filled with tragic passings, none struck me harder than the news that Wendell Berry had passed away at the age of 92.

I've never met Mr. Berry. My acquaintance with his work only began in the last year or two. Yet his writing voice was so strong I feel as though I've known him as an old friend.

There are many others better qualified to write about who Mr. Berry was. Like all of us, he carried many labels through the course of his life. Farmer, husband, father and grandfather. Essayist, novelist, and poet. To me he was a writer, and a great one worthy of study.

Berry's writing affected me deeply. I don't know that it's true to say I learned from his stories, essays, and poetry. The verb doesn't quite fit. It feels more like Berry reminded me of wisdom I already possessed and had allowed myself to forget.

People often think of Berry as rural and agrarian, and it's not that those claims aren't true, but his focus on land and place always felt like it carried a broader point to me, as applicable to a city apartment dweller as a rancher on the prairie. When I read Berry, I'm reminded of the importance of home, of a place that I care for and seek to be a part of. It's about being a good neighbor and a beneficial force in my physical (and yes, even digital) communities.

He reminds me of the value of work done well. I'm paraphrasing here (and from memory, so perhaps terribly), but in his essay on why he won't buy a computer, he addresses the objection that if he got a word processor he'd be able to write more. He responded by saying that he wasn't interested in writing more. He was interested in writing better.

But more than anything, when I read Berry, I'm reminded of the value of a world that places humanity first. A place where people matter, flaws and all. Such a world is worth working toward and fighting for.

It is strange to miss a man I’ve never met, but I miss him already, and I'm forever grateful for the words he left behind, which will linger in my bones and my spirit until I too return to the dirt.