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320 pages, Hardcover
First published December 3, 2024
What is it about wood that can capture our imagination so –draw us in, speak to us as no other material can? (p. 282)
This question moves through the heart of the memoir of a still-young man, Callum Robinson, a furniture maker. His writing, at first, reminded me of John Lister-Kaye, whose Song of the Rolling Earth brims over with descriptive details about the natural surroundings of a home in rural Scotland. Then I thought of Norman Maclean, author of A River Runs Through It and Young Men and Fire, two unforgettable books by a writer with a keen eye for detail.
Callum Robinson has no college degree, nor has he found time –at least as his autobiography leads me to believe –for reading great literature. Yet his book has received critical acclaim. You will laugh at his misadventures, ache during his anxious days, shudder when soaking storms blow his tools all over the place, and flinch whenever he injures himself on sharp saws or heavy lumber. In other words, his writing will draw you in and capture your imagination.
The narrative covers his childhood and adolescence. He recalls how his year away in New Zealand shaped him physically and prepared him beyond the training he had helping his father. He includes his wife Marisa, a college-educated instructor and expert in computer-assisted design. Her partnership is indispensable to his success and happiness. He also gives credit to his “boys,” the three skilled craftsmen who specialize in executing the making of tables, chairs, desks, cabinets, cutting boards, and bowls. They are colorful and distinctive.
There’s a plot to this memoir. After acquainting the reader with the workshop, Robinson recalls a crisis which nearly wiped him and his team out of business. From despair, he and Marisa get a risky idea –to lease a small shop in town, where they will display and sell furniture. Woven through the main story are numerous anecdotes and recollections that constitute the rest of the memoir.
As I read this moving and hilarious account, the names of several of my friends who are woodworkers came to mind. Most of them embraced the craft after retiring from other types of work although one has been supplementing his job as a school bus driver by refinishing items originally made by others. I’ve come no closer to anything resembling woodworking than making walking sticks from hardwood branches I find lying on the ground. So, take my word for it, you don’t have to be experienced with furniture making to be enchanted by Ingrained.