‘A book that is covertly a love poem disguised as a father-and-son story, an apprentice’s learning of an exotic craft, a hymn to the eternal mystery of trees, and a tribute to the flat-out joy of gifting. Enchanting.’
Bill Buford
‘Mesmeric’
The Spectator
‘Honest, original and true – written like a good novel, with that very rare merit of exploring the doubt and criticism necessary for any great art or craft, be it writing or carpentry.’
Lars Mytting
‘Robinson’s prose is humorous and macho, taking its lead from the gruff, sensual delivery of food writer Anthony Bourdain… But wood, in all its facets, remains at the heart of his writing. Robinson is poetic about the pageant of ash, beech and pine but also pragmatic.’
Financial Times
‘A hard-carved woodworking romance written with tenderness and an almost sensual attention to detail. I can smell the resin and the soft, fresh sawdust. I can feel the bite of dense grain beneath the blade. Quite magical.’
Cal Flyn
'A beautifully cut and crafted masterpiece inlaid with insight and polished with the pure joy of nature.’
Chris Packham
‘This magnificent debut isn't just an ode to the craft of furniture making, but the art of writing. Robinson's chiselled, elegant prose is the sound of a bright new voice in non-fiction.’
Sophy Roberts
‘A debut that’s both a paean to the art of woodworking and a memoir about creative endeavours.’
Observer
Ingrained is out now in UK hardback via Doubleday
Arriving December 3rd from Ecco in the USA & Canada
‘I owe a great deal to woodwork, and I firmly believe it’s as fine a way to make a living as any you’ll find, so I’ve long searched for a book that brings it to life on the page. Something evocative, colourful and sensual, immersing the reader in the largely hidden world of the carpenter - perhaps even inspiring one or two to pick up the chisels themselves. But though a handful of excellent publications do exist, I’ve never been able to find quite what I was looking for. So eventually, I did what I always do when that happens: I tried to make one myself.’
