I can't rate this objectively, because I always associate it with my father. I used to read it when visiting my parents; my Dad's not much of a reader, but he is a carpenter and owns several Sloane books. Finally I've decided to reread and review for GR....

But I do think it's a five-star book for almost everyone. It's short, fascinating, gracefully written, delightfully illustrated, and valuable. Even though I'm not a carpenter or woodsman myself, even though I have very little interest in history per se, I have been charmed this and several others by Sloane several times. ( )

I was awed at 14 and still love it. ( )

I came across Eric Sloane's books when I was a teenage wanna-be author researching a book set in early America. Well, reading through Sloane's books I enjoyed the research so much I never actually got around to writing the story. His books are wonderful descriptions of everyday life in this young country, and his penciled illustrations are absolutely wonderful and informative. I collect all his books now, and pick them up when I find them. ( )

My dad turned me onto Sloane. I love satisfying my craving to learn something that I'll never use, and would never learn in school, but which is still interesting. It's especially interesting because Sloane's own passion shines in his writing. ( )

In this book, Eric Sloane extols all the wondrous virtues of wood. From deconstructed barn planks, to the handles of tools, charcoal, and the living cells of trees, he loves it all. He relates many stories of how wood was used in the Americas, both by Native Americans and early European settlers.

As always, I love Sloane's appreciation for the past and longing for simplicity. One of my favorite parts is when Sloane talks about the old barn door he uses for a kitchen table because he loves the wood so much. He talks about sitting at his table, eating breakfast, and musing over all the stories the wood could tell. The scratches near the latch where a farmer must have lit a match for a pipe, the scratches of a dog jumping on the door, the nail where a wreath may have hung. It reminded me of an old table I got at a thrift store. It obviously belonged to a family with children. The wood was soft, so there were indentations from math homework done at the tables, names written on the table, and some other things. It had a lot of character and I often spend my meals wondering about the family that had previously owned the table. I very much relate to the pleasure Sloane finds in reflecting on the history of particular objects and imagining all the people who have either played a role in creating the object, or used it in one way or another.

I really like Sloane's illustrations too. They helped me understand how charcoal is made, how to identify some trees, and how a birch bark canoe is made.

Some parts were a little tedious, so it wasn't my favorite Sloane book, but still worth a read. ( )