#david grayson

So begins this account of life in the country, written by a man who left the pace and the pressure of the city behind, and went to live on a farm. This might sound all too familiar because there  have been many books of this genre that we've seen in recent decades. But this one is special because it is one of the very first of its kind, and it was written over a century ago.

It reads like a memoir, but it is a fictionalised account of real experiences. David Grayson is a pseudonym for Ray Stannard Baker who was a journalist. He did go live on a farm, and write about his experiences. But he wanted to keep his writings about rural life separate from his serious journalism. Hence the pseudonym.

This is a delightful narrative that features David, his sister Harriet who keeps house for him, their friends, and neighbours. It's an engaging account of the day to day concerns of rural life, the daily challenges and the small victories, all overlaid by the sheer pleasure of living in the county.

Grayson writes with a deep appreciation for nature that goes beyond his relationship with it as a farmer. His joy in the life that he has created for himself is palpable.

“In all the days of my life I have never been so well content as I am this spring. Last summer I thought I was happy, the fall gave me a finality of satisfaction, the winter imparted perspective, but spring conveys a wholly new sense of life, a quickening the like of which I never before experienced. It seems to me that everything in the world is more interesting, more vital, more significant.”

Grayson's descriptions of his neighbours, and his reflections on life, make for engaging reading. He brings a sense of humour to his writing that makes it even more charming...

“...Mrs Horace...is quite the most formidable person in this neighbourhood. She is so avaricious in the saving of souls—and so covetous of mine, which I wish especially to retain. When I see her coming across the hill, I feel like running and hiding, and if I were as bold as a boy, I should do it, but being a grown-up coward, I remain and dissemble.”

This book was written in the early years of the twentieth century, but it has a freshness to it that is quite remarkable. It doesn’t read like an account of a bygone era. Unlike the many books celebrating life on a farm that have been written since, this book has less to do with all the troubles the city dweller has to go through, adjusting to farm life and all the lessons they learn along the way and more to do with the simple enjoyment of life on a farm and in a village. It’s written with honesty and wit and it is well worth reading for the quality of the prose alone. I'll leave you with one more quote.

“In the summer the days are so long and the work so engrossing that a farmer is quite willing to sit quietly on his porch after supper and watch the long evenings fall—and rest his tired back and go to bed early. But winter is the true time for indoor enjoyment.

However, the name David Grayson was a pseudonym, and for years, fans across the country were fascinated with the mystery of who he actually was. One reporter declared it the great literary mystery of the decade.

Readers of his books sent many letters and notes to David Grayson over the years. They viewed him as a friend, even addressing him in their letters as such. Strangers around the country felt a kinship with him. Many people simply wrote to tell him that they enjoyed his work. Once, he went on vacation and a reader wrote to the editor telling them to not let David “take too long a vacation, some persons ought to spend their whole lives doing nothing and there are others we can’t afford to let take a vacation. They’re needed too much!”

Fans of Grayson’s work lived across the country. In Sarasota, Florida a group of people who loved his books formed a club called The Graysonians. They described themselves as the quiet and kindly folk who find their adventures along the paths of every day. The purpose of their club was to study nature and enjoy the open air in the friendly spirit of David Grayson. Clubs dedicated to nature and leading a simple life, began springing up all over the country.

In February 1915, a man arrived in Denver under the name David Grayson. Over ten days of staying in Denver he had run up a $50 board bill, befriended prominent men, and was entertained on Capitol Hill. Reporters contacted Grayson and his editors and were told that “any man lecturing in Denver or anywhere else asserting that he is David Grayson… is an imposter…David Grayson is a pen name.”

Bowing to public pressure, the identity of the man behind the pen name was finally announced in The Bookman, in March 1916. Newspapers across the country talked about the “unmasking” of David Grayson. There had been many guesses as to who David Grayson was, but as one report said, nobody thought that the fire-eating muckraker, Ray Stannard Baker, could write anything so mild and spiritual.

Ray Stannard Baker was an investigative journalist, who was known for writing articles about racism and labour unrest in America. He was born in Michigan in 1870. He started his reporting career in Chicago before moving to New York City to work for McClure’s Magazine. In 1906 he founded The American Magazine along with Ida Tarbell, and Lincoln Steffens.

When the magazine needed more articles to fill their pages, Baker agreed to write popular essays. To separate his more serious journalistic articles from the popular essays he adopted the pseudonym, David Grayson. In 1910 Baker moved to Amherst, reflecting the Graysonian dream of the rural life.