Paul Lamb is a hedgelayer. From the end of summer until the birds nest in the spring, he maintains the ancient boundaries of the British countryside. He lives in his wagon, as many itinerant farm workers used to, and travels the south-west corner of England, restoring an important but often forgotten part of our country.
Hedgerows are a living structure, woven into the fabric of rural life, a vital aspect of man’s partnership with nature. As traditional management techniques are lost to modernisation, hedges have declined dramatically. Paul works alone and by hand to rejuvenate these linear woodlands, saving the homes of the wildlife that rely on them and bringing many other ecological benefits.
Following the rhythm of the seasons, Of Thorn & Briar describes Paul’s life on the road and the practical aspects of his job. It is about practising a craft with skill, preserving our heritage for future generations and celebrating the glory of the landscape he’s spent his life caring for.
Beautiful book. I really enjoyed being taken through a year in Paul Lamb's life, in tune with nature like few others in our modern era. Fascinating, charming and nostalgia inducing even if for a time before I was even alive!
This is a book that I am sure I will return to when in need of a soothing read, my only criticism is I wish it were longer! I do hope that his future endeavours include writing more books!
3.75 * Rounded up. It was a form of mindfulness reading this book. I found myself very relaxed reading it as it’s not taxing in anyway. It is very hedge-based though which you would probably expect 😂 but I found myself glazing over a lot when the technicalities of hedgelaying were described. Too in-depth for me so found some parts a bit boring. Loved all the nature aspects of it though.
A mostly enjoyable piece of gentle nature writing, offering fascinating insights into the British landscape and our relationship with it. Prone to preaching, repetition, and a conservative bitterness which leaves a disappointing aftertaste.
A wonderful, gentle book that has a strong message about the way we should treat the environment around us, particularly the English framing environment.
The book is about working with the characteristics of place, plants and weather, rather than trying to bend these things to our own will through the application of technology and synthetic products. This book is about the value of 'traditional management', but it is also a book that see the countryside as a working place, not a museum.
As advertised, this is a journey through one year with a British hedgelayer. You get a detailed view of the rhythm of the work, the practical skills, the people involved and the surrounding environment. The monthly structure of the chapters is comforting in a way.
Paul has found great purpose through this work and is a clear evangelist to the cause of more hedges, hedgelayers and a general return to more measured and compassionate use of the land, particularly in farming. I applaud him for finding that connection, something so many of us strive to achieve.
Overall, there's a lot to like in Paul's thinking. But I struggled at the many points when the book dipped into what felt to me like unhelpful nostalgia and a romanticism of the past ways of rural living. It is difficult to stick with a book when it's telling me I'm doing my life all wrong, that the only good work is manual work, etc. Though that has clearly been Paul's experience so I can't fault him for that. It made me bristle. This is definitely a personal hang-up and I suspect many will not feel this while reading the book. I don't disagree that we are doing many things wrong. The delivery just made it difficult for me to focus on his message.
Thank you to LibroFM and Simon & Shuster for the advanced listening & reading copies.
Like a step back in time when life was simpler and with the comfort blanket of the countryside to embrace you, Of Thorn and Briar is a gentle and heartwarming read of a year in the life of hedgelayer Paul Lamb across the western counties of England.
Amongst much tea drinking, hazel pleaching and fireside deliberating, Lamb leads us month by month through the farmlands where he is employed as an itinerant worker. He meets some classic characters and the book pays homage to the traditional ways of life that are so often disregarded in favour of more mechanical and industrial solutions.
Redolent of the beautiful telling of the eider down collectors in Norway that James Rebanks writes about in The Place of Tides, this is a lyrical ode to the countryside.
I really wanted to like this book and I do up to a point. It is not badly written but it is not particularly well written either - a bit flat. The author gives some useful insights into the qualities of various tree species; I would have liked more of this and more about his choice of tools, about why he favours one type of billhook over another for instance, rather than repetition about the endless mugs of tea on which he seems to subsist. Lamb takes us through the seasons of the year in an engaging way; having some experience of working outdoors in winter I admire his dedication to pressing on in all weathers. He also ruminates on the need for him to pass on his skills and how he might achieve this; I very much hope that he will succeed in this endeavour.
As a child of the West Country I found this book warm, engaging and comforting. His life harks back to another age when we were much more in tune with our environment. It’s a popular Zen philosophy that problems for us begin when we see ourselves as detached from where we came. This book is a lesson in both being aware of where we are and our place in the wider cycle. Paul’s ability to note and recognise every tiny aspect of the seasons and the changes that occur over a year is a lesson to everyone in how to act when we are alone. I only hope his instagram success doesn’t change the way he does this!
A fascinating and absorbing journey through the year of a master craftsman. A detailed insight into the lonely life of a true woodsman. For someone who left school with no qualifications Paul writes with great clarity, eloquence and passion. He shows that it is not necessary to accumulate material possessions to feel richly rewarded by life. This is a must read for anyone who cares about nature and wants to see the traditional crafts continue. The future of hedge laying and hurdle making is safe in Paul’s hands.
This is a book for curling up on the sofa with a cuppa ( and with maybe a blanket and crackling fire) . It’s a little sparse in places but there is beauty here, in reading Paul’s notes on an unfolding year and a life spent so closely entwined with nature. Here we follow him as he travels, the folk he meets, ( for some are long time friends) as his carefully planned diary of work which follow the seasons round. Definitely a keeper. Worth buying your own copy.
Loved this book, it’s a slow story of working with the seasons in a craft that is still alive despite the modern shift in farming and landscapes. My only criticism, having read this on kindle is that there are no pictures to show the types of hedging he talks about. Not sure if this is different in the hardback.
A beautiful book, a year in Paul’s life as a hedge layer, I felt I was standing watching him at work at times. Wonderful detail on nature and wildlife. Really makes me look at hedges in a different way! I’m sure I will reread this at some point. I hope this is the first of many books by a very talented writer.
I listened to this and really enjoyed it. I knew next to nothing about hedgerows beforehand and I’m grateful to have learned while listening to Paul’s relaxing voice tell his story.
Books about nature and ~the old rural ways~ are my jam, but this wasn't super engaging? I think part of the problem is that I didn't click with the narrator, but tbh some sections were just... a bit boring. Surprisingly, it wasn't the repetitive passages on how to lay a hedge that I didn't like, but the scenes with random people who I didn't know or care about, who didn't have anything particularly interesting to say. Personally I would've enjoyed more musings about the natural world, etc.