For fans of H Is for Hawk and Shop Class as Soulcraft comes a captivating literary memoir, immersing readers in the life of a Scottish carpenter as he perfects his craft, builds a business, and reflects on what inheritance and shared responsibility really mean.
The eldest son of a master woodworker, Callum Robinson spent his childhood surrounded by wood and trees, absorbing craft lessons in his father’s workshop. In time he became his father’s apprentice, helping to create exquisite bespoke objects. But eventually the need to find his own path led him to establish his own workshop and chase ever bigger and more commercial projects, until the devastating loss of one major job threatened to bring it all crashing down. Faced with the end of his business, his team, and everything he had worked so hard to build, he was forced to question what mattered most.
In beautifully wrought prose, Callum tells the story of returning to the workshop and to the wood, to handcrafting furniture for people who will love it and then pass it on to the next generation—an antidote to a culture where everything seems so easily disposable. As he does so, he brings us closer to nature and the physical act of creation—and we begin to understand how he has been shaped, as both a craftsman and a son.
Blending memoir and nature writing at its finest, Ingrained is an uplifting meditation on the challenges of working with your hands in our modern age, on community, consumerism, and the beauty of the natural world—one that asks us to see our local trees, and our own wooden objects, in a new and revelatory light.
When starting this book, I assumed I would be getting an in-depth explanation of the craftsmanship of woodworking. Instead, I got a brilliantly narrated insight into the day-to-day of what it is like to be a craftsman in the modern world and the instances that brought Robinson to this place. If you know me, usually a mismatch of expectations and reality is almost always enough for me to not enjoy a book, but I was pleasantly surprised and charmed by Callum and his story and the intricacies of what it means to be a modern day wood worker. I was also extremely pleased to see such an incredibly beautiful romance between him and his wife to the point where this might also be classified as my favorite romance because it so well aligns with what I strive for.
I was genuinely disappointed when this audiobook ended before I finished my baking for the day and my only real complaint is that I happily could’ve listened to Callum talk for another 10 hours.
Callum Robinson spent his childhood in his fathers workshop surrounded by wood and trees, becoming his apprentice before setting off on his own path and starting his own business.
This memoir captivated me, the writing is so mesmerising and beautiful. Callum lives and breaths woodwork and hearing someone talk so passionately about their craft, you can’t help but want to go create something of your own. Hearing about his journey to where he is now, it reminds you to slow down, enjoy the journey and of the joy in finding your passion.
Living in a world so full of consmerism, this was a lovely reminder to connect more with nature, treasure the things you own and the beauty of craft. His descriptions of creating pieces of furniture that are to last generations, made me think about community, family and tradition.
There is always something special about reading descriptions of places you know well and this really made me appreciate where I live. Every time I’ve been out a walk and looking over at the bridges I’ve thought about his descriptions of them. He captures the essence of Scotland perfectly 🤍
I also have a very energetic dog and was chuckling whenever he mentioned his, I’m all too familiar with the ‘near-nuclear frenzy’ when I let him off the lead 😂
Ingrained is a beautifully written book about trees and craftsmanship while importantly touching upon the hardships of living of your passion in a fast paced world and consumerist society.
This book also hides a touching coming of age story and is an ode to woodwork, always going back to it and to the trees in an elegant and full circle way.
I went into it not expecting to find such a lyrical writing and was gripped from the very beginning because of it. The author's love for his work and art shows through his words and makes you care deeply for the trials he goes through but also smile at his and his family's successes and good fortune. It's hard to find someone who loves their job and believes in what they're doing and this author has managed to share this sentiment perfectly. Lastly, as someone who's taking a leap of faith in making my art my job, it gives me hope to find the same contentment in what i create for myself while feeling seen and understood for doubting this path i chose.
Thank you to Transworld and Penguin Random House for sending an arc of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This book, although beautifully written, was boring. The first chapter was a slog, but after that…the pace picked up and there seemed to be the making of a story. But even within what he chose to share about himself, it wasn’t much. No where did he talk about the things I wanted to know: how did he meet Marisa? His book talks about the making of a craftsman, but starts with him doing high end, fancy commercial jobs…which is confusing. How did he find his crew? We know more about his dad than anyone else, and while I like the dad, it just all felt so choppy and the direction wasn’t clear. Surface level stuff. Being married to a woodworker, it kept my interest just enough, but otherwise didn’t do it for me.
This book was a very tangible ode to the experiences of working with hardwoods. I would encourage anyone that reads it to go and look at the photos of the furniture at their store (Method) while reading it.
As a hobbiest that does not have to turn wood into food, I can afford the time to do projects 19th century handtools. This method, while not always efficient, heightens those experiences.
Hearing about the stresses of being a small business owner, in craft, in a industrial world; I'm happy that I don't woodwork for a living. I can get a smaller measure of those experiences without fearing for my livelyhood.
I could really relate to the descriptions and feelings about the transformation of rough sawn hardwood and also the fear of large industrial machines.
The late author Nancy Hiller who worked in a formal UK Apprenticeship role I think contributed to this genre in a more irreverent and comedic way. This book made me want to seek out more of her writing.
An amazing story of a wood craftsman in Scotland. The story takes you from his early years growing up and learning from his father who was a craftsman to when he and his wife open their own small custom furniture shop. He shows his love and appreciation for nature as well as the respect for what he and other craftsman do in their work. The book really gave me an even deeper appreciation to what goes into the design and crafting of quality furniture. It is also a very inspiring story of his and his family’s journey through the years. A great book! I won this book in a GoodReads Giveaway.
3.5 - some moments were very poignant (his grandmother being sick, learning how to stand on his own two feet in New Zealand, trees that grow up in harsh climates being made into the most beautiful pieces). I also enjoyed the stories about him and his dad. I read a ton of books about mothers and daughters, so it was nice to read about a father and son. You can tell he has a reverence for what he does, and I admit sometimes I got a little lost when he would pivot to “shop-talk”, but my appreciation of craftsmanship has exponentially increased.
Perhaps my first memoir where I thought, “Hmm, maybe I should write a memoir…” Recommend this to anyone who works with their hands and/or owns a small business.
For a book about wood working, the writing was much better than anticipated. Callum’s ability to describe and explain their pieces of work kept the book interesting and allowed the imagination to run wild. Good job!
This is a wonderful story, and gorgeous writing about loving a craft, nature, and making things with your hands. It's a practical guide for anyone who loves wood working or just making something with your hands. I plan to incorporate keeping "the wolf at the door" and the word "bespoke" into my vocabulary forevermore. Imagine the language and description of Robert Macfarlane, just a lovely book. The woodcuts and epigraphs are stories unto themselves--my favorite style of memoir.
Favorite quotes: "They say the Inuit have fifty words for snow; Scottish islanders could probably match that for rain...Greetie, smirr, yillen, sump, and haar rolled and lashed in from the Atlantic."
Really loved the Brief Notes On: "And the lesson here is this: design inspiration can come from anywhere" (220).
This was a very interesting memoir about the creation of a now well-known Scottish woodworking shop. I found the story of Method’s creation, as well as the relationship between the author and his father fascinating. The audiobook was very nicely narrated by the author himself.
Ingrained is a thoughtful and beautifully crafted reflection on working with timber, a material I love just as much as stone. As an architect, I use timber whenever possible, and this book deepened my appreciation for its warmth, versatility, and timeless quality. Beyond design, it also resonated deeply with me as a small business owner, touching on challenges and philosophies that feel both personal and universal. An inspiring and insightful read.
"But things that come too easy get boring fast, most pain is temporary, and is ANY amount of money really worth the misery of spending your time doing something you loathe?"
Nonfiction that’s as gripping as fiction. Prose that reads like poetry. Love this book! Echoes of shop craft as soulcraft, zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance, with something else wholly its own.
This book does a great job showing the way we can drift away from doing something we care about, towards something 'more important' - in this case, Robinson seems to suddenly realize he hasn't made anything with his hands in years, and is now just managing a woodworking business and trying to please high-profile clients. I think everyone can relate to this on some level, and so it's gratifying to see how he finds a way (treacherous as it may be) to get back to doing what he loves, and doing it more on his own terms. There's also great insight into the importance of storytelling as a component to running small business, and the beautiful depiction of Scotland is more than enough to make me want to go back again.
Yep. One of my best reads of the year. People writing about things I am largely unfamiliar with, with language that dances, draws me into environs I didn't know I needed to know.
This memoir of a woodworker is so beautiful. His extravagant words conjure up the scents of wood, the honest tiredness of a full day of work and the tactile delights of his trade. In the days of instant consumerism it is a joy to read this book.
Not a book I would have rushed out to buy, but my wife gave me a copy after hearing the author at Wigton.
I loved Callum's story, which was full of vivid description and overflowing with feelings. Without giving away anything significant, I did think the pages advising the reader on how to get employment as a woodworker weren't really part of the memoir and might have been better in the author's notes after the epilogue. Otherwise, I found myself empathising with Callum and found his story engrossing.
I didn’t go looking for this. It found me (via an email from bookbub who included this as a 99p kindle offer).
The description included these words “blending memoir and nature writing at its finest, Ingrained is an uplifting meditation on the joys and challenges of working with your hands in our modern age, on inheritance, community, and the beauty of the natural world.” - I love reading good memoirs, and I read a lot about nature so this immediately appealed.
I started reading this while on holiday, staying in a log cabin in a forest. I sat on the decking looking out at trees and read chapter after chapter. It suited my surroundings beautifully.
I’ve found myself looking at furniture slightly differently. Evaluating the items I have in my own home - a chair, a side table, and those I pass - picnic benches, park benches. Wondering about the construction. Wondering about the invisible hands that brought them into being. Not are the finely finished items that Callum and his team work on but they’re still being created and deserve to be cared for.
A wonderful read.
Highlights:
Allowed to move freely around the freshly milled timber like this, the relentless Scottish wind will slowly wick away the moisture, a year for every inch of thickness, plus another for luck.
Andrew has never been fully silent. He probably whistles in his sleep, or yodels, or hums. Or all three. I can’t say he didn’t warn us … but if someone tells you in their interview they were once fired for singing too much, you don’t actually believe them, do you?
Unearth the things you love, the things that speak to you, and ask yourself why they work – not just how.
What is it about wood that can capture our imaginations so – draw us in, speak to us as no other material can?
A thousand years ago, Scandinavian longships were being constructed along almost identical lines to the ship-lapped boards of my father’s Hebridean boatshed. Two thousand years before that, Tutankhamun’s antechamber was being filled with finely wrought wooden furniture, almost as the walls of Rekhmire’s tomb were being decorated with paintings showing carpenters hard at work, using techniques the boys in the workshop would undoubtedly recognize today. Go back even further and split-and-worked timber floors were being laid in sites that predate Britain’s break from continental Europe. Further still, back when our ancestors first rolled off the production line, we actually used to live up there in the branches. Where it was safe. Where everything didn’t want so very badly to eat us. So it isn’t so outlandish to think that, even then, we were crafting things from wood.
By the time the sun goes down tonight, nearly half the world will have cooked over a wood fire.
is any amount of money really worth the misery of spending your time doing something you loathe?
it has been all too easy to forget that independent local businesses, the kind of hardworking businesses that are right here on my doorstep, may be waiting in the silence for someone like me to swish through the door. That no matter how original or full of charm and quality they may be, many will not be able to survive without our support. And that they aren’t really businesses anyway; in towns and villages up and down the country, they are the lifeblood, the culture and the character of communities. They are somebody’s hopes and dreams.