Any Resurgence & Ecologist members who have attended one of the Trust’s monthly guided meditations led by Satish Kumar will be aware of how deftly and gently he draws attention to humans’ interconnectedness with the more-than-human world, and how the elements of earth, air, water and fire sustain us all. Trees embody this interconnectedness: they are rooted in earth, they release oxygen through photosynthesis, they turn the sun’s energy into sugars to feed the tree, they are adept at recycling water, and they have provided firewood for humans for millennia.
Little wonder, then, that writers with an environmental sensibility should be drawn to trees in their fiction and narrative non-fiction. The late Roger Deakin took the reader on a mesmerising cultural journey through trees in Wildwood, while Richard Powers’ The Overstory invited readers to lose themselves in the thickets of an intergenerational family tale in which trees have just as much agency as the humans around them. Suzanne Simard’s illuminating Finding the Mother Tree, meanwhile, revealed extraordinary scientific insights into how trees communicate with one another using mycorrhizal networks as part of a ‘wood wide web’.
The connection between woodworking and writing also runs deep. The American playwright Arthur Miller built himself a writing cabin overlooking a stream and some woods on his Connecticut property, and this writing sanctuary became integral to his creative practice.
Ingrained takes the reader on a journey into how Callum Robinson became a craftsman not only of wood but also of words. This beguiling book traces his progression from boyhood, through the agonising self-consciousness of teenage years, to achieving renown as a fine woodworker and cabinet maker. Buoyed by this success, he and his spirited partner Marisa move to London, where they set up their own woodworking company, serving upmarket clients with upmarket budgets. Unfortunately, the couple also find themselves burdened with cripplingly high overheads, and when orders begin to dry up they find themselves at a critical juncture.
Returning to the West Lothian town of Linlithgow, where they first met and kindled their love, they resolve to open a bespoke furniture-making shop in the high street, keenly aware that if their experiment fails they will almost certainly face penury and an extremely uncertain future.
The narrative of Ingrained gains significant momentum after their decision to take on the lease of the Linlithgow shop. They are supported by their loyal team of expert woodworkers – Andrew, David, Pat, Tommy and Robin – each of whom brings a particular specialism to complement Marisa’s Charles Rennie Mackintosh-inspired design skills. With only weeks to go, the team work together to create some exquisite pieces of furniture, which adorn the shop for its grand opening.
It would be too much of a spoiler to reveal just how that opening is received by the locals and guests. Robinson’s father, so influential in his son’s development as a woodworker and a man, creates some idiosyncratic pieces for the shop’s opening, celebrating their Scottish heritage in a unique and distinctive way.
As the narrative reaches its conclusion, like the beautiful grain of a hardwood revealed by a master craftsperson, the book’s subtext comes into focus. Although ostensibly about woodwork, this enchanting memoir is the chronicle of one man’s journey to becoming a writer: substituting timber for timbre, wrestling not with wood but with the swirls, sinews and hidden meanings of language.
Ingrained: The Making of a Craftsman by Callum Robinson. Doubleday, 2024. ISBN: 9780857529756
