I really wanted to like this book -- the author's voice and personality shine through her writing very clearly. She seemed like a snotty, self-important, shrill and unbalanced person. I kept reading, hoping that the author would undergo some transformation that would redeem her, and thinking that perhaps she wasn't as self centered as she made herself sound -- but when it got to the section about how demanding and rude she was to the woman who butchered her pigs -- I realized: the author is just a bossy, self-centered, judgmental hipster who can't even keep the streets straight (the Temescal street with the upscale Mexican, wood fired oven pizza and bakery is Telegraph, not Shattuck) because she's too busy obsessing over whatever non-existent drama she's invented for herself.
Seriously? Ghetto? I know plenty of people who live off MLK Jr in the 25-33 range -- it's not what I'd call a "ghetto" and I don't know anyone who lives there who would refer to it as such as often as this cracker hipster does.
REVIEW: Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer by Novella Carpenter
RATING: 2-stars
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