
In “Damage,” Wendell Berry recounts making a small pond on a steep wooded hillside so that it could provide water for occasional pasture. A bulldozer clears trees, cuts into the upper slope, and piles soil into an earthwork below. Water seeps in quickly, and the pond seems successful; the exposed ground is fertilized and planted with grass and clover. But a wet winter, freezing and thawing, and water-softened soil cause the earthwork to slump and part of the upper woods floor to slide into the pond. Berry accepts responsibility. Though he sought expert advice, he concludes that no expert can fully know a particular place, and that advice cannot compensate for inadequate local knowledge or bad judgment. He has generally tried to care for his farm and repair damage done by others, yet he has added damage of his own. The physical injury may be modest and capable of healing over time, but it leaves a lasting flaw in the land and a corresponding injury in his mind and peace. This experience changes his understanding of art. He once imagined art as a refuge from life’s imperfections, something permanent and more important than transient worldly troubles. Now, because he lives within the place that forms his subject, he cannot escape it through writing. Writing about a place does not free him from it; he must return to it, while both he and the place continue to change. Since he has damaged his subject, he has also damaged his art. Art must therefore confront pain, seek healing, and preserve the scars that record limits and knowledge. Berry calls an art that heals and protects its subject “a geography of scars.” Scars are necessary reminders: to lose them is to renew the wound. He reflects on sayings of Blake, arguing that excess becomes wisdom only when it has become a healed wound and a long scar. Culture must preserve the memory of past errors so that later generations do not destroy their way again. Local, settled cultures do less damage because they remain attentive to place, while the outsider’s excess can lead to desolation. Tools and weapons, rather than ideas alone, create the need for culture: after gaining power beyond the body, people need songs and stories to remember innocence, record consequences, and define what can be done without harm. Bodily action alone remains within natural limits, but a person using a machine without adequate culture and knowledge becomes destructive, capable of disturbing more than he can sustain.
By Wendell Berry · First published 2019 · Genre: Environmental Essay, Nature Writing, Literary Nonfiction · 4 chapters · 1,091 words
I have a steep wooded hillside that I wanted to be able to pasture occasionally, but it had no permanent water supply.
About halfway to the top of the slope there is a narrow bench, on which I thought I could make a small pond. I hired a man with a bulldozer to dig one. He cleared away the trees and then formed the pond, cutting into the hill on the upper side, piling the loosened dirt in a curving earthwork on the lower.
Damage is listed on Textopian as an essay by Wendell Berry, dated 2019 CE.
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literary fiction · rural life · Kentucky · farming · family · community · injury · recovery · identity · masculinity · loss · resilience