|
|
|
Book Review
| Oak: The Frame of Civilization. By William Bryant Logan. New York and London: W.W. Norton and Company, 2005. 336 pp. Illustrations, bibliography, and index. Paper, $15.95.
|
| "The study of the oak itself," William Bryant Logan enthuses in The Oak: The Frame of Civilization, "is a school of history, design, and society" (p. 259) because the tree is a central element in the formation of human cultures: It is a food source, religious inspiration, and building material. It "too invented us" (p. 28), he argues, and he ably shows this interdependency throughout his natural and cultural study. The first two of the book's seven main sections include a social history–centered on discussion of early humans' celebrations of the tree (rituals) and the tree's influence on last names ("the most widely used tree name in all Western languages"—p. 24); the next describes the oak's use as food in hunter-gatherer cultures (nut-eating societies or balanocultures); the fourth and fifth sections, the book's lengthiest, describe its transformation as lumber and leather in primitive structures, and its later use in more elaborate ones, primarily ships; the sixth and seventh sections, respectively, discuss its natural history and offer a curiously added coda that compares the Eiffel Tower's design properties with the oak's, proclaiming the latter the more superior. |
1
|
|
A descriptive approach predominates, with many interesting vignettes, making it an enjoyable read for a general audience. Sometimes, however, Logan includes too much detail, which scatters the narrative in places. The sections on the oak's transformation into a product tend to veer off into overly detailed discussions about, for instance, wine cask and shipbuilding construction (the latter which subsequently devolves into a discussion of early U.S. naval battle strategy). But others captivate, like the sections that consider balanocultural practices and, especially, henge formation patterns. Logan's argument that henge patterns, such as those found at Stonehenge and Seahenge, may have found inspiration in an oak's rays and rings and as such are "monuments about the mind" is absolutely fascinating (p. 105). |
2
|
|
Logan laments modern use of the tree, saying that today mass production has separated us from truly appreciating oaks anymore—that we have lost our roots. "Human beings show restraint when they value, worship, and respect what they encounter. Value comes from understanding, and understanding from intimacy" (p. 256). This understanding seems "mostly gone now. Oak is for truck floors and middle-market cabinets" (p. 257). Perhaps that's why he has chosen to describe so thickly the oak's transformation into lumber and other materials. |
3
|
|
Logan marvels about oaks, and his admiration is appealing. Their prolific distribution and survival strategies are impressive in the annals of botany. They "specialize ... in not specializing," unlike champion trees like redwood, which need specific environments in which to thrive (p. 17). Their relentless flexibility has made the oak "the primary, the titular tree of the forest" (p. 21), especially since it is the only one that includes both deciduous and evergreen species. "The first durable material in the West that could be transformed" (p. 119) by humans, the oak is both figuratively and literally a magical, pliable tree. "No tree has been more useful to human beings" (p. 21), a claim Logan amply and enthusiastically justifies. |
4
|
|
Lori Vermaas, assistant editor for Texas Tech University Press, holds a doctorate in American Studies from the University of Iowa (2000), and is the author of Sequoia: The Heralded Tree in American Art and Culture (Smithsonian Institution Press, 2003). Her research interests include American environmental attitudes (primarily revealed in expressive culture) and the history of trees in American culture. |
Content in the History Cooperative database is intended for personal, noncommercial use only. You may not reproduce, publish, distribute, transmit, participate in the transfer or sale of, modify, create derivative works from, display, or in any way exploit the History Cooperative database in whole or in part without the written permission of the copyright holder.
|