1920. The Roadmender, a devotional country book, was very much to early Edwardian taste, clearly touched a melancholy nerve and achieved popular classic status. When the book was published there was a great mystery surrounding who Michael Fairless was, and what locale did he describe with such love? The place was West Sussex-the Adur Valley, and Michael Fairless turned out to be a woman-Margaret Barber.
I found this quite an odd book. It grabbed my attention (I read it in one sitting - it’s a relatively short book) with its mixture of ideas on living a simple / frugal / charitable life, which seem relevant today (the book was written over a 100 years ago) – some of the more mystic / Christian overtones left me a bit bemused.
I did re-read one of the quotes a few times - "Yet have I learned to understand dimly the truths of three great paradoxes - the blessing of a curse, the voice of silence, the companionship of solitude."
Overall my rating for this book is 3.5 stars – as although I found much of it thought provoking / engaging a couple of times I felt like I was being preached to.
I really liked this one. A meandering story through the life of an itinerant worker, filled with a sort of lay theology emphasising the unity of creation and the value of work and connection to the earth itself, told in a series of vignettes in Sussex, London, and Sussex again.
Most of the vignettes themselves involve the unnamed roadmender observing the world around him - his regular trip to the coast to sit by a tree and watch the ocean, meeting a grandmother and child along the road (and his disappointment when he is less capable to hold a conversation with her than a passing old man), watching animals pass by on their way to market, etc.
It doesn't come off provincial in the slightest despite having some Arcadian views of the damage that mechanisation has to peoples' connection to nature and animals (though views I'd agree with), and even embraces the city as a place of activity and meaning, which is probably far less pessimistic compared to similar works at the time. There are even apologies for paganism spread throughout the last two acts, which is interesting from a largely Christian work.
I found it meaningful and a very positive form of Christianity that to me did an extremely good job of expressing the simple and selfless life that Christians are ideally supposed to live.
A short and sweet reminder of what is real and what is important in life. It was written over a hundred years ago, but is still highly relevant. I love much of the reflections in this book, but here are three quotes that really struck me.
"If we live in an age of mechanism let us see to it that we are a race of intelligent mechanics."
"For it is true recreation to sit at the footstool of God wrapped in a fold of His living robe, the while night smooths our tired face with her healing hands."
"Yet have I learned to understand dimly the truths of three great paradoxes - the blessing of a curse, the voice of silence, the companionship of solitude."
This book is unique. The writing style, the prose, is beautiful, and unlike anything I have read from that era before. It is not very political, or exciting, or worldly, but I was transfixed by its loveliness. It reminds me of Dreamthorp by Alexander Smith.
The philosophy, mysticism and countryside descriptions deserve 5 stars, but I found the intrusion of the poor but honest peasantry beyond sentimental. So on balance, 4 stars, though the last few pages are among the best things I've ever read.
Fairless offers a lyrical account of a fictional roadmender's delight in honest toil, which, however lovingly portrayed, might be more convincing if less fictitious. Given that it was written by a young woman lacking the health, strength and necessity to perform the repetitive and punitive manual labour required to break stones, the paean of praise for the educated man who pursues his profession so zealously seems at best disingenuous, at worst deceitful. All things were never bright and beautiful for the day labourers or convicts condemned to the back-breaking work of maintaining the king's highways. The fiction is continued in the companion pieces, where the subject has ceased his road mending, and is now, either by accident or design, released from hard labour and blissfully free to enjoy at his leisure the bounties of nature and literature. To paraphrase the well-known early twentieth-century verse: 'See the happy peasant / He doesn't give a damn /I wish I were a peasant / My God! perhaps I am'.
I really enjoyed this book for its lyrical turn of phrase, for its old-fashioned expectation that I would share its culture and know the literary allusions it was making, for its heart-soothing dream-like flow.
Words that encouraged and challenged at the same time were:
I am learning to be ambidextrous, for why should Esau sell his birthright when there is enough for both?
The Gibeonites were servants in the house of God, ministers of the sacrament of service even as the High Priest himself.
...round the walls runs a frieze of squat standard rose-trees... in between them are Chaucer's name children, prim little daisies, peering wide-awake from green grass.
Shut in by the intangible dark, we are brought up against those worlds within worlds blotted out by our concrete daily life. The working of the great microcosm at which we peer dimly through the little window of science; the wonderful, breathing earth; the pulsing, throbbing sap; the growing fragrance shit in the calyx of tomorrow's flower; the heartbeat of a sleeping world that we dream that we know; and around, above, and interpenetrating all, the world of dreams, of angels and of spirits.
...the believing cry, "Come from thy white cliffs, o Pan!"
This short book was The Alchemist of it's day. A book chronicling a few days in the life of a roadmender in rural England, it's filled with simple wisdom and fairly strong on Christian mysticism. While the religious aspects of the book make it a tougher swallow today, the author's main points on living a simple, frugal life of charity and contemplation still ring true. Written under a pseudonym of Margaret Fairless Barber, afflicted with illness and confined to a room for the great bulk of her life.
An unadulterated dip into the mystical attitudes held by many over-educated British people at the time of Queen Victoria's death. Reading this period piece, it is shocking to realize how far we've come (not necessarily progressed) in 110 years. It's worth reading for that reason alone. The book's language is too mannered- ie dated- to survive. Sadly it will probably disappear without trace but for the odd Edwardian scholar happening upon the slim volume in Lutyens house-clearing sales.
I didn't realise until I read the postscript that 'Michael Fairless' was the pen name of a young woman in poor health, who died just after she finished writing The Roadmender. But I can't say I was greatly surprised - it went a long way towards explaining the sentimental and wholly unrealistic view of a roadmender's life. Real roadmending was tiring, repetitive and poorly paid work, carried out in all weathers, usually by those who were no longer physically able to do more strenuous manual tasks. Fairless' road mender never seems to break a sweat at the job, the sun is always shining, and he has plenty of time for lengthy chats with passers-by or to 'play truant' and go on long walks. He claims that the roadmender's life is wonderful and that he is looking forward to old age in the workhouse.
Obviously, such twaddle could only be written by a 30-something Victorian Miss, whose upper class lifestyle meant that she had no understanding of strenuous manual labour or the misery of the workhouse. I suspect that those who loved the book when it was first published were those who either had private means or comfortable office jobs. It's hard to imagine anyone with a manual job having the patience to finish this. It gets one star for the descriptive writing, some of which is lovely. And another for the beautiful wood engravings by Helen Munro - her illustrations are lovely and worthy of a better book.
A short novella type story about a man who works to fix the roads, as he tells us about his life- who he sees, what he sees, and how he feels about certain situations. He’s a religious man and the references to Christianity and Greek Mythology have him more of a character.
I really liked it.
I don’t really read stories like this so it’s nice to explore different types of prose.
This book is so incredibly lovely, it feels like Anne of green gables in that the nature pours out through the words, but is told in the reflection of a 40 year old roadmender. Made me cry! Absolutely wonderful!!
This is a book about a person who passes through different stages of their life through to their final exit. The first part is one of the most memorable pieces of literature I have every read. A beautiful observation of the wonders and merits of living a simple life.
Part 2 the character goes out and experiences the world. From here the book takes on quite a strong religious context which for my taste is unfortunate.
Part 3 is a reflection on life in general and the characters' own experiences. A pleasant read but again with considerable religious philosophy thrown in to the mix.
However, part 1 alone is a reason to keep this book by my bedside. And the interesting and charming historical references are a great resource for further reading.
One of the free “Reclaim her Name” eBooks. I read the first third of it, but it was so dull, tedious and religious that I had to abandon it. Some of the characters the road mender speaks to are interesting, but the conversations were too brief to hold my attention.