James Burgess (1832–1916)

Described as being the autobiography of a 'Wielden Farmer', it is hardly this. In reality it is the barely comprehensible ramblings of a religious psychotic, with no information about his life as a farmer. Acquired on the off-chance that there may be some interesting history in it, but in this department, seriously lacking.

It is nothing more than a pile of sanctimonious godrot written by a delusional man. If he had spent a little less time worrying about his soul and a little more time working, he would perhaps have had a more fulfilling and profitable life than he moans about in this book. It is clear by page 30 that he is a borderline schizophrenic with paranoid tendencies. I have only added this book to my collection because he was my great grandfather, otherwise I wouldn't give it houseroom.… (meer)