This is a really interesting book. The author tells, in exhaustive detail, the history of the lumber trade, primarily in New England (although there are some allusions to west-coast logging) from colonial America to the (then) present day on 1967. And I do mean exhaustive. He covers every aspect of the lumberjack's trade, from lumber wars with rival companies, run-ins with the government, the shifting importance of the types of trees, how lumber is priced at each stage of the process and how they differ, how lumber is transported, immigration and the lumber trade, food, songs, tools, mills, transportation, forest fires . . . There's a lot here.
The author's style is highly anecdotal and disjointed. In the chapter on camp clerks, he relates a multiple page excerpt from ANOTHER author on exactly how gambling worked, and a story of a card cheat that was caught and punished. You really never know what you're going to get when referring to a particular chapter.
The anecdotes lend themselves to the heroic and impossible, but the author builds a compelling narrative nonetheless. I learned all about the nailed boots used to stand on logs in the water, the reason red flannel shirts were worn (red was believed to be warmer), how the lumber trade shifted from mammoth pines used for ships' masts, to smaller trees for general construction, to even smaller trees used for pulpwood for paper, and how the transport and taking of those trees differed at each stage. I learned how first the saw with raker teeth replaced the axe, how critical the peavey tool was (a billhook used for moving logs), how first railroads, then steam haulers, and finally diesel trucks revolutionized what lumber could be taken and continually reduced the damming and moving of logs by water, and how quickly and all-consuming forest fires could spread. There's an anecdote from another author about how he and a dozen Italian railroadmen rescued a pair of severely burnt lumberjacks on a railroad hand cart, and the breakneck speed there is well conveyed.
There's also an element of melancholy through the entire book, because the author wrote at the tale end of the traditional lumber trade. Lumber camps had largely given way to weekend excursions with the widespread use of automobiles for lumberjacks, as opposed to the seasonal camps favored historically. Union dues and safety measures are attacked, and the most memorable interviewees are all old men in their 80s and 90s decrying how things used to be. In an effort to lionize the historical lumberjack, Pike glosses over how they were frequently cheated, hurt, or killed, while ascribing a level of individual prowess and competence to individual lumberjacks that is unbelievable. In one anecdote, a riverman falls into the river, and the foreman says "to hell with the man, save the peavey!". This is held up as laudable, instead of monstrous.
The overly conservative wish for a past that probably never was, coupled with the author's extreme tangents and overall disjointed style, keep this from being a recommend. However, it is an exhaustive (and to reiterate, I do MEAN exhaustive) look at lumbering in America, even if it is only a single perspective.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The history of logging in northern New England is amazing, and Pike makes it accessible in this engaging book full of stories of colorful characters. He starts with a chapter about "The Axe" and works his way through every aspect of what it took to cut down a tree and get it to market in the 1800s and early 1900s. By the end of the book, you can easily imagine what it was like to work in a logging camp or on a river drive.
I am familiar with much of terrain Pike mentions, and it was mindblowing to learn how extensive these logging operations were. Imagine the Connecticut River so full of logs that bridges and dams were swept away. Also mindblowing to learn about the life threatening conditions under which these men worked. And the funky technology! Railroads that ran on logs for rails. A horse-drawn vehicle to sprinkle water on roads and freeze them to make them better for skidding giant sleds of logs. Dynamite for blowing up log jams on the rivers. It's hard to believe that it was not until 1897 that the crosscut saw was favored over the axe.
I read Pike's Spiked Boots years ago, and that is an easier book to read. It's about the characters Pike knew in the north country, and it includes some of the same stories in this book. Pike himself is an interesting character. He grew up on the banks of the Connecticut in Vermont, just old enough as a boy to witness the last of the long log drives. He went on to be a college professor but clearly remained passionate about the history of logging. Edie Clark wrote a great profile of Pike in Beyond the Notches, a collection of essays about norther New Hampshire. It was great to reread that.
Pike ends the book by bringing you up to date, to 1967. He regrets how the logging industry had been mechanized. He admits that life is better for the loggers -- more pay, less death -- but mourns the loss of the old logging culture. After reading this book, I feel that loss, too.
A somewhat interesting book, may be very informative if you aren't familiar with logging, and there are a number of amusing anecdotes, but the writing can be difficult to stick with. The writing is disjointed and can be hard to follow. There doesn't seem to be a flow, no rhyme or reason, to the books organization. I have a personal passion for this topic, but it was a difficult book to get through.
For instance, the author might spend a couple paragraphs telling a funny story but suddenly the subject changes completely in the next paragraph. There is no conclusion to some of the stories, no follow up, not even a break other than a new paragraph.
I did learn quite a bit, and enjoyed parts of the book, but it could have been better with more pictures and/or diagrams and a better layout.
This is one hell of a book written by a man with an excellent understanding of life in the New England woods throughout the late 19th century and early 20th century. The authors quick wit and love for the eccentricities of life as a yankee woodsmen carry the book along with resounding clarity. It was a joy to read and at times made me laugh out loud to the point of tears. The dry, yankee humor was a delight and greatly appreciated by one who grew up surrounded by tough, old woodsmen with a stubbornness and cynicism specific to their given occupation. I highly recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the bygone era of caulked boots and swinging axes.
Seeing the backyard of my home state through the eyes of these incredible men was more moving and emotional than I was prepared for. Looking for a hardcover copy for my library....
"Tall Trees, Tough Men," reminds me of a more apolitical Edward Abbey, if he'd been an amateur sociologist instead of a fictioneer. Author Robert E. Pike takes the reader through roughly a century and a half of logging history in New England, dealing with both the harrowing and backbreaking work itself on the one hand, and the smaller, more charming and granular details of things like camp life, folk tales, songs and ballads, on the other.
If pressed, at gunpoint (or perhaps the head of a hatchet) to name my favorite chapter, I'd probably say it was the one dealing with literally riding logs down the rapids (and sometimes hopping logs!) to guide the wood along the choppy waters and through the sluices, into the mills. Some of the stories are funny, crass, a bit "blue" (though tame by today's standards) while others can be a tad gruesome or at least induce a flinch (like the story about what happens when one attempts to thaw frozen dynamite in a roaring blaze). And yes, men part with their fingers (and other appendages) within these pages, so be forewarned. Again, though, it's tame compared to most of what's available these days.
In addition the salty anecdotes, ample details are provided on the tools of the trade used by the woodsmen of yore and of more recent years, as well as some interesting observations about the changing demographics of the lumberjacks who were a diverse lot (men from parts as disparate as Quebec and Italy heeded the siren call of the creaking pines). It was no surprise to discover that even in class-obsessed New England, this was a world where merit and grit were more important than breeding or finish and a lot of things from origin to bad personal habits could be overlooked if a man carried his weight while working the backwoods.
Most fascinating of all from my perspective was that, while there is some predictable pining for the bygone ways, the author doesn't always sugarcoat things, and in those instances where newer methods are preferable (or more merciful on those doing the logging), Mr. Pike dutifully acknowledges such changes for the better.
Photos are copious, and in black & white. Recommended.