Tobias Jones went looking for something. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, just that it would be different to the unsatisfying fast-paced modern lifestyle that he had been struggling with for some time.
So he went community hopping. He visited a range of different, reasonably self-contained 'communities', all with a common theme of separation from the 'normal' world, generally with religious roots to some extent, in Italy and the UK. He explores how communities in general are built, whether they work, and whether spirituality and/or religion are necessary for a successful community.
In the end his answer is probably "yes", communities need some sort of foundation based on shared beliefs or objectives. In addition, he made the remarkable discovery (for a metropolitan type) that hard manual work is good for the soul. Yep, it can be, so long as you don't have to do it for your entire life for a pittance. It's different if you've volunteered for it for a while before disappearing back to your comfy city home. To some extent that is all probably stating the blindingly obvious, but he has some interesting takes on the how and why.
There are some problems of course: he visited 5 different groups in the space of a year, which is probably not really enough time to fully dig down to the core and truly understand whether they work. Most of them have issues: the half-barmy, half-deeply cynical Damanhur in Italy swings from self-indulgence to completely spaced out pottiness. Nomadelfia, a catholic Italian village style group, is easier on the mind, but there are clear undercurrents of the worst sort of roman catholic insularity and intolerance.
The Quaker village near York is an oddity, as it is really just a very expensive retirement/care home facility, populated by well-heeled and often intellectual and activist over-sixties. I'm not sure it's relevant to anything much.
Pilsdon, an apparently genuinely open and caring place for people with real problems (rather than those suffering from self-indulgence, like some of the others) seemed to me to be the only one that really achieved, in a realistic and open but knowingly limited way, what it set out to do.
The accounts of the places themselves are interesting, and there are intriguing ideas and questions arising from how they work. One thing that struck me was that most of them (Pilsdon very much aside) achieved their separation from the 'real world' in a very artificial manner. They were either dependent on mundane commerce, or hand-outs from the church or wealthy trusts/benefactors. To some extent their other-worldliness is a fraud.
The main problems with the book are the author's wanderings into philosophy and musings on his own life-issues and the more general subject of community. Some of them are interesting; some of them, unfortunately, are utter piffle. Some of his more exotic flights of prose fancy don't actually make any sense, and he has a habit of building a theory or idea on firmly stated truths that he appears to have invented on the spot.
Overall, interesting, but the conclusions are not clear. Jones seems to have come away with a clearer mind (and a 1 mile radius exclusion zone round his house!) but there are hints of the same self-indulgence that afflicts some of the Damanhur types in particular.