California: 'Not Simply Real Estate'

book review by Robert Pavlik

California, the Golden State, has yet to live up to its promise. As the state celebrates its sesquicentennial, it is time to assess where we have been, what we have done, where we are going. Despite the fabulous photos in this volume, its not a pretty picture. War, famine, disease, displacement, deception, dissolution are all a part of our collective history; looking at orange crate labels and old copies of Land of Sunshine one is inclined to overlook the dark side of California's past. As photographer Robert Dawson and historical geographer Gray Brechin so powerfully portray in words and photos, the past is prologue and very much a presence in our everyday lives. We all need to take another look, and this book is a marvelous and sobering vehicle for reassessing the state's history and future.

The venerable biologist and author Raymond F. Dasmann has written the foreword, an appropriate choice given his pioneering work of more than thirty years ago, aptly entitled The Destruction of California. He pays the collaborators high praise when he writes, "I am optimistic enough to believe that Farewell, Promised Land can make a difference. It combines the visual impact of impressive photography with well-chosen words more successfully than any previous work." (p xi) It's true; the text, written by Brechin is lyrical; the photos by Dawson, deep and movingly beautiful. Their passion for their subject and their state is what makes this pairing so successful.

The book is divided into seven sections, dealing with the decline of the state's native flora and fauna ("The Absence of Things"), the precarious nature of our farms and ranches ("Coerced Cornucopia"), our hyper-consumptive lifestyles fueled by a delicate energy web, and the human toll of our modern world. I was particularly moved by one set of photos, a triptych that depicts a summer dry valley speckled with oaks. In this deceptively pastoral scene is an historical marker, a brass plaque embedded in a lichen encrusted rock and surrounded by a pipe barrier. The narrative explains the site's significance: Nomi Lackee, in Tehama County, was an Indian reservation/plantation where the inhabitants were enslaved by the federal government. The Indians struggled to survive in this high, wide country until it was decided that the land could be put to a higher, better use by private individuals; the Indians were forced from their homes in a West Coast version of the Trail of Tears. Brechin goes on to write, "Some places have drunk so much pain that they never give it up. We call them haunted. Nomi Lackee is one such place. A stillness hangs over the valley beyond the mere absence of animals once there. Even in the brightness of noon, an unseen cloud hangs over the land and strikes a chill in those who take the trouble to search it out. I felt that cold once before. It was outside the village of Dauchau, in Germany." (p12)

Some California boosters might cringe at such an analogy, but it needs to be remembered that there were many killing fields along with the gold fields in California.

The authors make effective use of historical sites and landmarks to amplify and illustrate some disturbing disjunctions that exist between the written record and the commemorative display. One monument that eluded them is State Historical Landmark number 919, the St. Francis Dam disaster site. While huge chunks of the failed dam still sit in the dry riverbed, mute testimony to the terrible event that took over 450 lives on March 12, 1928, the bronze plaque hunkers behind the chain link fence surrounding San Francisquito Power Plant number 2, easily overlooked by the traveling public.

Just as the weight of the book began to sag in my hands and heart, I came to the last chapter, and like the Sierra Nevada foothills in spring, I was renewed. Here are stories of courageous people making a difference in their communities. Dawson and Brechin sought out these quiet heroes and gave them a forum to inspire and motivate others who want to reclaim their corners of California, their pieces of the California dream, from the Los Angeles River to the Richmond refineries. As Brechin writes in conclusion, "Only by treating the land--the skin of its soil, the blood of its streams, and the breath of its sea winds--as worthy of the same love with which we endow those closest to us will California become not simply real estate, but home." (205) Understanding the state's history, and learning from the past, is an important part of the journey toward reclaiming the Promised Land.

WWW Washington Free Press