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The Cracker Barrel
The old-time country store was more than just an emporium. With its pot-bellied stove and barrel of common crackers within reach of whoever had the time for chatting, this time-honored institution was also a general meeting house, a public forum, and an entertainment center. With words both wise and droll and his inimitable line drawings, Eric Sloane recreates the flavor of the country store in all its delightful moods and poses. Includes sage opinions on everything from the American necktie, almanacs, and capitalism to "the good old days." 55 illustrations.
128 pages, Paperback
First published February 28, 1979
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About the author
Eric Sloane
100 books58 followersEric Sloane (born Everard Jean Hinrichs) was an American landscape painter and author of illustrated works of cultural history and folklore. He is considered a member of the Hudson River School of painting.
Eric Sloane was born in New York City. As a child, he was a neighbor of noted sign painter and type designer Frederick W. Goudy. Sloane studied art and lettering with Goudy. While he attended the Art Students League of New York City, he changed his name because George Luks and John French Sloan suggested that young students should paint under an assumed name so that early inferior works would not be attached to them. He took the name Eric from the middle letters of America and Sloane from his mentor's name.
In the summer of 1925, Sloane ran away from home, working his way across the country as a sign painter, creating advertisements for everything from Red Man Tobacco to Bull Durham. Unique hand calligraphy and lettering became a characteristic of his illustrated books.
Sloane eventually returned to New York and settled in Connecticut, where he began painting rustic landscapes in the tradition of the Hudson River School. In the 1950s, he began spending part of the year in Taos, New Mexico, where he painted western landscapes and particularly luminous depictions of the desert sky. In his career as a painter, he produced over 15,000 works. His fascination with the sky and weather led to commissions to paint works for the U.S. Air Force and the production of a number of illustrated works on meteorology and weather forecasting. Sloane is even credited with creating the first televised weather reporting network, by arranging for local farmers to call in reports to a New England broadcasting station.
Sloane also had a great interest in New England folk culture, Colonial daily life, and Americana. He wrote and illustrated scores of Colonial era books on tools, architecture, farming techniques, folklore, and rural wisdom. Every book included detailed illustrations, hand lettered titles, and his characteristic folksy wit and observations. He developed an impressive collection of historic tools which became the nucleus of the collection in the Sloane-Stanley Tool Museum in Kent, Connecticut.
Sloane died in New York in 1985, while walking down the street to a luncheon held in his honor.
Sloane's best known books are A Reverence for Wood, which examines the history and tools of woodworking, as well as the philosophy of the woodworker; The Cracker Barrel, which is a compendium of folk wit and wisdom; and Diary of an Early American Boy: Noah Blake-1805, based on a diary he discovered at a local library book sale. His most famous painted work is probably the skyscape mural, Earth Flight Environment, which is still on display in the Independence Avenue Lobby in the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum.
Eric Sloane was born in New York City. As a child, he was a neighbor of noted sign painter and type designer Frederick W. Goudy. Sloane studied art and lettering with Goudy. While he attended the Art Students League of New York City, he changed his name because George Luks and John French Sloan suggested that young students should paint under an assumed name so that early inferior works would not be attached to them. He took the name Eric from the middle letters of America and Sloane from his mentor's name.
In the summer of 1925, Sloane ran away from home, working his way across the country as a sign painter, creating advertisements for everything from Red Man Tobacco to Bull Durham. Unique hand calligraphy and lettering became a characteristic of his illustrated books.
Sloane eventually returned to New York and settled in Connecticut, where he began painting rustic landscapes in the tradition of the Hudson River School. In the 1950s, he began spending part of the year in Taos, New Mexico, where he painted western landscapes and particularly luminous depictions of the desert sky. In his career as a painter, he produced over 15,000 works. His fascination with the sky and weather led to commissions to paint works for the U.S. Air Force and the production of a number of illustrated works on meteorology and weather forecasting. Sloane is even credited with creating the first televised weather reporting network, by arranging for local farmers to call in reports to a New England broadcasting station.
Sloane also had a great interest in New England folk culture, Colonial daily life, and Americana. He wrote and illustrated scores of Colonial era books on tools, architecture, farming techniques, folklore, and rural wisdom. Every book included detailed illustrations, hand lettered titles, and his characteristic folksy wit and observations. He developed an impressive collection of historic tools which became the nucleus of the collection in the Sloane-Stanley Tool Museum in Kent, Connecticut.
Sloane died in New York in 1985, while walking down the street to a luncheon held in his honor.
Sloane's best known books are A Reverence for Wood, which examines the history and tools of woodworking, as well as the philosophy of the woodworker; The Cracker Barrel, which is a compendium of folk wit and wisdom; and Diary of an Early American Boy: Noah Blake-1805, based on a diary he discovered at a local library book sale. His most famous painted work is probably the skyscape mural, Earth Flight Environment, which is still on display in the Independence Avenue Lobby in the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
March 3, 2017
I really enjoyed this collection of essays about the good old days. Although there were some references to racism and sexism that made you realize those days weren't so great for everyone. But overall this was an enjoyable read. I really liked his idea of a "museum of awareness or concept". It would have a scale model of the solar system where you would have to look out a cut out window a mile down the road to see Pluto. And there would be 1 million of something laid out and a billion of something laid out, and scale models of warm fronts. I also enjoyed the explanations of where traditions originated like a crescent moon on an outhouse or a horseshoe for good luck. His descriptions of the usefulness of old tools makes me want to get an antique wooden wheelbarrow and a one piece wrench.
I'm also excited because this is the first time I've seen my rating make a difference in the overall rating of a book on Goodreads- 3.71 to 3.72.
I'm also excited because this is the first time I've seen my rating make a difference in the overall rating of a book on Goodreads- 3.71 to 3.72.
March 29, 2015
I really liked this collection of essays. The essays cover a range of topics, but mostly Sloane is expressing some sort of longing for the values or lifestyle of the past. Besides the content of the essays, I also found the writing style quite engaging. Sloane has a contagious sense of curiosity about the simplest things, and his humorous writing makes essays about seemingly mundane topics quite enjoyable. I love how he always talks about pulling out his old dictionaries and almanacs to try to trace the origin of a word, a custom, or an invention. Sloane says that his research may not have much purpose, but it is all worth it for the thrill of discovery. I like picturing him in an old time farmhouse, surrounded by antique tools, with dozens of books scattered about him, bubbling with excitement as he tries to discover the origin of the dollar sign.
Things I am inspired to do after reading this book, which I will probably never do.
1. Mail someone an iced cake using popcorn as the packaging. Yes, the icing will not look perfect in the end, but hopefully the cake will be intact and the recipient will have delicious icing coated pieces of popcorn to eat with their cake!
2. Revive the tradition of tree planting as a remembrance or a gift. I know this tradition still survives somewhat, but I really liked the essay where Sloane talked about how when a couple got married and moved into a new house, friends would often bring gifts of fruit trees and decorative trees for around the house. They would plant two “man and wife” trees in front of the house on either side of the entrance. Apparently these old houses could be dated by finding the age of these two trees.
3. Find some really well made tools, and have a reason to use them. I don’t really have much use for a wheelbarrow right now, but Sloane’s essay about going 100 miles to find an old fashioned wheelbarrow with a big front wheel that could handle going over rough ground really made sense. There are so many cheaply made, poorly designed tools these days, and the right tool really does make all the difference.
4. Decorate my house with useful things. In one essay talks about how he was looking in his drawer for a pair of scissors, and complaining to his wife how they seem to disappear. His wife responded, “If you look behind you, you will see a collection of early American scissors hanging on the wall as a decoration or ‘utilitarian ornamentation’ by an antiquarian character named Eric Sloane.” He found the scissors cut really well, and decided to start actually using some of the antiques around his house. I was thinking about this the last time I was in a Cracker Barrel restaurant, and saw all these old things hanging on the walls, and how nice it would be to actually use them. I also really like the phrase “utilitarian ornamentation.”
5. Find someone to open the really cool “museum of awareness or concept” to illustrate how much a billion is, or how big an acre is. And to help people comprehend the vastness of space and weather phenomena.
Overall, this book really just made me want to live a simpler lifestyle. I know that it is easy to romanticize the past, and a lot of good has come from modern innovation, but after reading this I can’t help but long for the good old days.
Thanks for the recommendation, Kim! Although in a roundabout way, I guess I recommended it to myself.
Things I am inspired to do after reading this book, which I will probably never do.
1. Mail someone an iced cake using popcorn as the packaging. Yes, the icing will not look perfect in the end, but hopefully the cake will be intact and the recipient will have delicious icing coated pieces of popcorn to eat with their cake!
2. Revive the tradition of tree planting as a remembrance or a gift. I know this tradition still survives somewhat, but I really liked the essay where Sloane talked about how when a couple got married and moved into a new house, friends would often bring gifts of fruit trees and decorative trees for around the house. They would plant two “man and wife” trees in front of the house on either side of the entrance. Apparently these old houses could be dated by finding the age of these two trees.
3. Find some really well made tools, and have a reason to use them. I don’t really have much use for a wheelbarrow right now, but Sloane’s essay about going 100 miles to find an old fashioned wheelbarrow with a big front wheel that could handle going over rough ground really made sense. There are so many cheaply made, poorly designed tools these days, and the right tool really does make all the difference.
4. Decorate my house with useful things. In one essay talks about how he was looking in his drawer for a pair of scissors, and complaining to his wife how they seem to disappear. His wife responded, “If you look behind you, you will see a collection of early American scissors hanging on the wall as a decoration or ‘utilitarian ornamentation’ by an antiquarian character named Eric Sloane.” He found the scissors cut really well, and decided to start actually using some of the antiques around his house. I was thinking about this the last time I was in a Cracker Barrel restaurant, and saw all these old things hanging on the walls, and how nice it would be to actually use them. I also really like the phrase “utilitarian ornamentation.”
5. Find someone to open the really cool “museum of awareness or concept” to illustrate how much a billion is, or how big an acre is. And to help people comprehend the vastness of space and weather phenomena.
Overall, this book really just made me want to live a simpler lifestyle. I know that it is easy to romanticize the past, and a lot of good has come from modern innovation, but after reading this I can’t help but long for the good old days.
Thanks for the recommendation, Kim! Although in a roundabout way, I guess I recommended it to myself.
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September 11, 2014LOVED this book. It is a collection of columns by the late Eric Sloane. He calls himself an antiquarian (I had to look that up: a person who studies or collects antiques or antiquities.) Since I love old stuff, I enjoyed this book. If you love old things, you might love it, too. I am in the process of collecting books by him published by Dover Publications.
January 13, 2024
I found this old book at an antique store, and I have loved the humor. It reminds me of Paul Harvey, or Andy Rooney, or Stan Heig's "The Humor of the American Cowboy," with a meandering topic or narrative.
This book was written by Eric Sloane, a self-proclaimed antiquarian, speaking as an old man to a younger audience, from his over-fifty years of working, and from his childhood. Since this was published in 1967, so he was old before some of today's "old" people were even born. Looking online, he was born the same year as one of my grandfathers, and he also died the same year as that grandpa.
My favorites included the pomegranate, and the "jackalent" word from which our "jack-o-lantern" is derived.
Mr. Sloane was apparently an educated man, or perhaps self-educated, because he frequently considered the comic history of a word coming into usage.
The story of the "Fortified Flakes" was awful and nasty, but funny, too. I read that one to one of my kids. Then there was the "Elephant's Breath" color paint that he sold, or the garage that he measured and built.
There was also the story about the boulder that had been vandalized to say, "Stop and Repent" breaking off and rolling into a road near Brattleboro, Vermont, where for about a year, it enjoyed the status of a religious monument drivers would navigate around.
I loved the rebus puzzle chapter "I Believe I am too wise for you!" although I wasn't very successful at figuring out most of these puzzles. I think I only got one of them. The epitaphs in "John Fuzz Was" were funny. I also liked Lord Byron's epitaph for his Newfoundland: "Beneath this spot are desposited the remains of a being who was possessed of beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of man without man's vices."
The one-piece wrench was actually ingenious. I don't know why they don't use a similar design today. I wonder if it doesn't lock into place as well.
I did not know that the pairs of trees planted on either side of a front door are called "Man and Wife Trees." They are supposed to be planted at a newlywed home as a testimony to the longevity of the marriage. You can tell they've been married awhile when those trees are mature.
I also did not know why moons were carved in outhouse doors. The men's outhouses were carved with sunshines, and the women's with moons, because Luna represented womankind. But, in many places, the men's outhouse was truly the great outdoors - there wasn't an actual outhouse building for them - and so the only existing outhouse building was the women's, with the moon.
Nor did I know that gazebos were actually from the Spanish word "gasapo", an insult for a fool. Someone made fun of an American gazebo, which was different from the British type atop a castle, ...
I think it is sad that the author thinks his legacy will be the return to the ringing of bells on Independence Day, rather than his books or paintings, because no one does that anymore. It had been a tradition he'd tried to revive.
Favorite quote:
"I can be thankful that the Maker saw fit to let me do my act in this century... American heritage has no antique value; its value is right now. It is the tradition of design, the excellence of workmanship, the honesty of value, the usefulness of simplicity, the reverence for nature and God."
I am not nostalgic of an older era in that way. Each era has troubles of its own, and evils of its own, too. But some of this goodness has been lost today.
This book was written by Eric Sloane, a self-proclaimed antiquarian, speaking as an old man to a younger audience, from his over-fifty years of working, and from his childhood. Since this was published in 1967, so he was old before some of today's "old" people were even born. Looking online, he was born the same year as one of my grandfathers, and he also died the same year as that grandpa.
My favorites included the pomegranate, and the "jackalent" word from which our "jack-o-lantern" is derived.
Mr. Sloane was apparently an educated man, or perhaps self-educated, because he frequently considered the comic history of a word coming into usage.
The story of the "Fortified Flakes" was awful and nasty, but funny, too. I read that one to one of my kids. Then there was the "Elephant's Breath" color paint that he sold, or the garage that he measured and built.
There was also the story about the boulder that had been vandalized to say, "Stop and Repent" breaking off and rolling into a road near Brattleboro, Vermont, where for about a year, it enjoyed the status of a religious monument drivers would navigate around.
I loved the rebus puzzle chapter "I Believe I am too wise for you!" although I wasn't very successful at figuring out most of these puzzles. I think I only got one of them. The epitaphs in "John Fuzz Was" were funny. I also liked Lord Byron's epitaph for his Newfoundland: "Beneath this spot are desposited the remains of a being who was possessed of beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of man without man's vices."
The one-piece wrench was actually ingenious. I don't know why they don't use a similar design today. I wonder if it doesn't lock into place as well.
I did not know that the pairs of trees planted on either side of a front door are called "Man and Wife Trees." They are supposed to be planted at a newlywed home as a testimony to the longevity of the marriage. You can tell they've been married awhile when those trees are mature.
I also did not know why moons were carved in outhouse doors. The men's outhouses were carved with sunshines, and the women's with moons, because Luna represented womankind. But, in many places, the men's outhouse was truly the great outdoors - there wasn't an actual outhouse building for them - and so the only existing outhouse building was the women's, with the moon.
Nor did I know that gazebos were actually from the Spanish word "gasapo", an insult for a fool. Someone made fun of an American gazebo, which was different from the British type atop a castle, ...
I think it is sad that the author thinks his legacy will be the return to the ringing of bells on Independence Day, rather than his books or paintings, because no one does that anymore. It had been a tradition he'd tried to revive.
Favorite quote:
"I can be thankful that the Maker saw fit to let me do my act in this century... American heritage has no antique value; its value is right now. It is the tradition of design, the excellence of workmanship, the honesty of value, the usefulness of simplicity, the reverence for nature and God."
I am not nostalgic of an older era in that way. Each era has troubles of its own, and evils of its own, too. But some of this goodness has been lost today.
September 24, 2014
Imagine that you are sitting by a campfire near a pond with Steinbeck, Clemens and Thoreau sharing stories with each other. Cracker Barrel, a book of essays by Eric Sloane, captures the magic of such a moment. In reading his essays, I experienced a sense of nostalgia; the mundane becoming significant. His essays were an invitation to education, contemplation, humor, simplicity, relaxation and reflection. The book is only 120 pages long and could easily be read in one day. I chose to delay my gratification, take my time and savor the moments. I have finished. Alas, I must end this review and commend the book for your reading pleasure. I gave the book five stars and a crescent moon.
November 23, 2020
This Eric Sloane book varies from his other books on Americana in that it consists solely of a collection of short essays published originally in his syndicated newspaper column "It Makes You Think." The subject matter in the articles varies considerably, with some better than others. If you have read Mr Sloane before, you won't be surprised to see many of the articles venturing into the subject of how practical tasks were cleverly done in the past, but he also chimes in with his take on other subjects ranging from art to vocabulary to word puzzles. Overall an enjoyable light read and as always, accompanied by the author's excellent sketches.
January 12, 2014
A funny thing happens when you have a sister who works at the library ... books randomly show up on your holds list. It's like Christmas!
So after my adventure reading about early American tools, I guess Katie assumed I was an Eric Sloane fan and I ended up with this book. At first I was nervous that I was going to have to read a whole book about barrels, but it turns out that this is actually a collection of essays about a wide variety of topics. You are going to think I am joking, but I actually really liked this book a lot. Sloane has a very conversational writing style and even though he is mostly writing about how he wants to go back to a simpler kind of life, you never get the feeling that he is a big grump about it. I really liked his essay about the value in doing things slowly and the one about how competition only leads to lower quality products.
In one essay he talks about the concept of a billion of anything and how that is so impossible to even comprehend, and he imagined a ridiculous future in which we would throw around the word "trillion" and he imagined it would probably have something to do with Congress. He wrote this in 1967 and now here we are casually throwing around the equally incomprehensible number "a trillion." In that same essay he talks about his idea for a museum to help people comprehend amounts of things - like there would be a flag in one place and then another flag a mile away so you could see how far it was, and then have a pile of a million of something, and scale models of the planets and the sun to see relatively how far away they are all from each other. It was a strangely compelling and charming idea.
He writes a lot about word origins, which I really enjoyed, and his one essay about the silliness of men's neckties was so funny that it reminded me of something that David Sedaris would write.
Even though this book has some things that really date it - like cringe-y race-related words, complaints about how all cigarettes taste the same, and old-fashioned gender roles, I feel like it holds up surprisingly well. Katie, I think you in particular would really like this book a lot. What a pleasant surprise!
So after my adventure reading about early American tools, I guess Katie assumed I was an Eric Sloane fan and I ended up with this book. At first I was nervous that I was going to have to read a whole book about barrels, but it turns out that this is actually a collection of essays about a wide variety of topics. You are going to think I am joking, but I actually really liked this book a lot. Sloane has a very conversational writing style and even though he is mostly writing about how he wants to go back to a simpler kind of life, you never get the feeling that he is a big grump about it. I really liked his essay about the value in doing things slowly and the one about how competition only leads to lower quality products.
In one essay he talks about the concept of a billion of anything and how that is so impossible to even comprehend, and he imagined a ridiculous future in which we would throw around the word "trillion" and he imagined it would probably have something to do with Congress. He wrote this in 1967 and now here we are casually throwing around the equally incomprehensible number "a trillion." In that same essay he talks about his idea for a museum to help people comprehend amounts of things - like there would be a flag in one place and then another flag a mile away so you could see how far it was, and then have a pile of a million of something, and scale models of the planets and the sun to see relatively how far away they are all from each other. It was a strangely compelling and charming idea.
He writes a lot about word origins, which I really enjoyed, and his one essay about the silliness of men's neckties was so funny that it reminded me of something that David Sedaris would write.
Even though this book has some things that really date it - like cringe-y race-related words, complaints about how all cigarettes taste the same, and old-fashioned gender roles, I feel like it holds up surprisingly well. Katie, I think you in particular would really like this book a lot. What a pleasant surprise!
January 22, 2015
very enjoyable!
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews