Hillrodism -- HELP.

A long while back, I started reading this book. It's a glorified thesis paper written about a hillbilly chair maker in the hills of Kentucky. His (the Hillbilly) name is Chester. He's since passed away. But at the time of the book's writing, he was alive and crazy. The author shacks up with him and his family for a bit. And, the resulting book is an analysis of old-school beautiful building techniques- and the rechid life of a Kentucky hill dweller.

Chester is a self proclaimed Hillbilly. A man who dreams of returning to a hollow in the mountains, away from the bother of the modern world.

Is this starting to sound romantic?

He has numerous children, many of whom are mentally disabled. He has a wife who dreams of rising to a better social class. A woman who insists on buying factory made chairs. She refuses to use the chairs that Chester makes from freshly felled trees with little more than a hatchet and a pocket knife.

Chester actually enjoyed a small amount of celebeity resulting from his truly amazing techniques of chair building. He had been the subject of several articles in national publications throughout the sixties and seventies. In fact, if you look at the pieces of his life that culminated in a book being written about him, you see all the trappings of success. By that I mean that he seemed poised to bring riches to his family.

Like so many tragic figures he failed. There are aspects of him that I admire. Aspects, that I think are heroic, enviable, beautiful. And, so much to question and reject. I have a relationship with him similar to the one that I have with my own father. And, yes, I do have a relationship with Chester.

Chester haunts me. He lives in the book that lives in the bathroom. I read it over and over. In the bath, on the toilet, brushing my teeth.. it reaches out to me. And, there I am horrified as I look into the abyss of it.

I was given this book by an intern of mine. The gifter astutely noted parallells in the life of the chairbuilder, Chester and I the shoe maker. The two of us hacking away at the jungle of modernity to preserve some old technique that needed no modernization.

I make shoes. And, I also work with wood. There are so many chords inside of me resonating with what I read about Chester's life and with the techniques and relationship he has with wood.

I read about Chester's uphill battle with financial burden. It is hard to make a living in this world. And, I would argue that it is hard for almost all of us. But, let me tell you this. It is hard to read a book that seems to be the story of your life. Especially when it is a non-fictional account of someone losing everything.

To be clear, the marital strife and familial struggle that plagues Chester's life do not plague mine. In many ways Chester's behavior embarasses me. We are not the same. But, we come from such a uniquely similar perspective. Our purposes are the same. We are unique builders and preservers of something from another time that still has modern purpose. And, there are truly parallell lines in our lives. Frightening parallell lines.

Chester's work was valued. People wrote from all over the country to get their hands on one of his impressive hand built chairs. But, it wasn't enough to keep his family together. He worked constantly. Despite his work, he was never able to do much more than pay his rent and electric bill.

His wife never bought new clothes. His children didn't wear shoes. He didn't wear shoes. Not because they didn't want to. But, because they could not afford to.

In the little towns of Hazard county there was work outside of chairmaking. Chester had a nephew who was a coalminer. The nephew appeared as a king to the family. A rich man making five thousand dollars a year for the simple sacrifice of his lungs.

Chester chose to continue building chairs despite the hardship of it.

Here's a good point to go off on a tangent ( a related tangent. But, a tangent none-the-less)

We can boil the notion of sin down to one simple non-denominational word: self-indulgence.

Whether you be Buddhist, Catholic, Muslim, ... so forth. You'll find that exclusive self gratification is the common factor in what religion considers to be breaking the rules set forth by the supreme being. That especially means creativity. If I make a painting I am doing very little to care for those that are in need. God, Buddha, and Alla all seem to be asking us to be the eyes, ears, and helping hands down on the ground. They can't really see it all from their lofty places. And, so we have to help eachother eat and be warm. We have to help life go on.

Being alive means one simple thing.. continuation. And, being alive makes you a part of everything alive. You may be unique. But, you are a unique part of something so very big. Life is life is life is life. And so, killing is easily understood as a sin. It goes against the clear rule of life.. continuation. .keep it going despite yourself.

Stealing is easily understood as a sin. When you take something without exchanging something of yours you contribute to the disorder in the universe. Physicists don't like to put hot cups of tea next to empty cold cups for this reason. It takes the universe farther away from its perfect inital ordered state. Stealing anything is like stealing energy. There has to be an exchange. Them's the rules.

Adultery? Well, that starts to get a little harder. But, come on. It's a clear form of self-indulgence. It's a lot like stealing (sexual politics aside). It is destroying a bond in the universe. Think of it like splitting apart elements. Carbondioxide is made of 2 molecules of Oxygen and 1 molecule of carbon. If you break that union up, you destroy an element essential to plants. Plants make Oxygen. Get it? Things belong together. Don't mess with unions in the universe. It's a sin.

Making a hit record.
Creativity is a complex form of self-indulgence. In order for it to be catalogued into reality, it has to be recognized by other living things. When you make a hit record, you may be bringing a kind of joy to others. But, you also are asking them to take time out of continuing life to pay attention to you. You are interupting the flow of life. And, you are creating something that takes energy away from the general flow of life. That's what cancer does to your body. Cancer is a spontaneous form of creation that uses your life giving resources. If cancer's record is big enough, all of your life giving resources go to it, and you die.

So, is creativity a sin if it is useful? Do chairs, shoes, and bandaids fall under the same constraints as hit records? I think that when I look at Chester's life it seems so. I like to look at Chester's chairs. I love the ways that he builds them. I want them to be in existance as much as I want to dance to Prince, or smoke cigarettes.

And, that's what makes me understand the concept of sin. The temptation. Chester essentially abandon's his family to make these things of beauty. He is convinced that there is that much importance in what he does. And, despite the lust and admiration and love that I have for these things... as much as I agree with old Chester, I know that his family is more important than his chairs.

Remember the first rule? Continuation. Your job is to make other things live. Just like everyone's job is to make other things live. If we all do our job we will all be making something else live. And, hence we will be helped by someone else.

....So, I read this book about Chester all the time. Too much. And, I am a shoe maker. Do you see where I'm going? I know the end of Chester's story. And, in some ways, I am Chester. I'm not giving enough to my family by being a shoe maker. If I continue to do it without increasing what I take home, I will fail my family. I will fail at my part in continuing life.

I know that I can't trade my family for my desire to make shoes. But, should I continue to try and succeed at shoe making to provide for my family? Should I be a coalminer? Write me. Tell me.




Adultery, stealing, killing, making hit records, veneomous sermon giving .. these are all things that take all the energy of the world and focus