Featuring music composed and performed by Katherine Lehman.
Thirteen Ways to Smell a Tree takes you on a journey to connect with trees through the sense most aligned to our emotions and memories. Thirteen essays are included that explore the evocative scents of trees, from the smell of a book just printed as you first open its pages, to the calming scent of Linden blossom, to the ingredients of a particularly good gin and tonic.
In your a highball glass, beaded with cool moisture.
In your the aromatic embodiment of globalised trade. The spikey herbal odour of European juniper berries. A tang of lime juice from a tree descended from wild progenitors in the foothills of the Himalayas. Bitter quinine, from the bark of the South American cinchona tree, spritzed into your nostrils by the pop of sparkling tonic water.
Take a sip, feel the aroma and taste of three continents converge.
Each essay also contains a practice the listener is invited to experience. For example, taking a tree inventory of our own home, appreciating just how many things around us came from trees. And if you've ever hugged a tree when no one was looking, try breathing in the scents of different trees that live near you, the smell of pine after the rain, the refreshing, mind-clearing scent of a eucalyptus leaf crushed in your hand.
David George Haskell is an British-born American biologist, author, and professor of biology at Sewanee: The University of the South, in Sewanee, Tennessee.
Tree huggers have been around for a while, and as mad as it sounds, communing with nature in this way is mostly harmless, unless you have just hugged a holly… Whilst we may use some of our other senses when interacting with a tree, such as sight and touch we very rarely use some of our others. But there is something very pleasurable about walking through ancient woodland listening to the susurration of the leaves in the wind or smelling the resinous scents of a pine forest.
In this fascinating book, Haskell has taken thirteen trees that we have probably come across in some capacity or the other. Beginning with the acrid and oily horse chestnut, known to many small children for their conkers, we meander around other scents and smells such as the juniper and how it has flavoured gin, the way that the white oak is the main flavouring for whisky and how the scent of the ash tree is disappearing.
Not all the smells covered here are pleasant, the living fossil that is the ginko has a particular scent that it is thought was used to attract beasts that walked this planet a long time ago. The glossy green leaves of the bay have a scent that is one of my favourites, my parents have one in their garden and I always snap some leaves in half to smell it when I am there. Trees also give us smells after they have stopped growing, the scent of woodsmoke in the right context can be wonderful, but in a forest can be terrifying. The scent that I am most familiar with though is that of books, as I do have ‘quite a few’ around the house…
The delight I feel in the ponderosa’s aromas joins me to the communicative heart of the forest. Trees confide in one another. Insects eavesdrop and concoct. Earth and sky converse.
This is probably one of the most unusual title books that I have read recently. I really liked this and thought that Haskell has come up with a very novel way of getting us to engage more with the natural world around us. I like the way that he has selected a number of trees, and used that particular species to tell us a little about that tree and how we interact with it. He is a really good writer too, his prose is engaging and fascinating as well as being stuffed full of fascinating facts that can be dropped into conversations. If you want to read a very different slant on natural history writing then I can recommend this.
A lovely book that introduces us to the way trees create networks of communication with one another through the release of different fragrant molecules. Smells that attract or repel animals and insects, smells that humans have woven in our evolution and memories. The music pieces composed by Katherine Lehman that accompany the chapters of the book, are a wonderful idea and addition
I stumbled upon this book because its Chapter 13 (on the smell of books) was used in my current studies. It turned out to be the best chapter in this collection - full of beautiful, evocative language and a meandering, clever, chatty style that traversed the history and chemistry of paper making and books and libraries. The other chapters are similarly a clever interweaving of memory, history and science, but for me, they resonated much more if I were familiar with the sights and scents of the trees in question - for example, the chapters on conkers and gingko were more enjoyable to me than that on the Antarctic beech. Also of note was the collaboration of the author with a musician, who set the chapters to music; an interesting and very creative idea. What does the smell of old books sound like? Must have been a fun project to work on.
A sensuous, extravagant look at the bounty of trees, focusing primarily on the aromas and smells they contribute as a (perhaps under-recognized) sumptuous and multi-layered texture to our everyday world.
Written with the delicacy and grace of a poet, informed by the science and insight of the biologist he is, the author’s world, as evoked on these pages, is a breathtaking peek into the inner world of trees, the aromas used to communicate, (be it to connect or defend) roots and leaves to neighboring plants or from intruding wildlife, as we, the human interlopers, tag along for the olfactory ride.
As we learn, in reading this book, smell is a unique sense in that we are biologically hard-wired to experience scents, upon inhalation, as a direct, animalistic and primal connection, which is fed into our brain-based memory, emotional and experiential centers, bypassing initially any of the more rational areas of brain processing (which come a little later, allowing us to analyze or consider scents in a more fulsome manner).
As the author explains, this primal processing allows us to immediately feel deep sensations, and any associated memories from a smell in a way that can take us back to childhood (for example, the smell of horse chestnut “conkers”, beloved by children in a childhood game), a memory of our mothers kitchen (a bay leaf simmering in a long-cooking stew), or invoke an overwhelming and blissful calm (such as when inhaling the “honey and wild rose” scent of basswood blossoms).
With a diverse and moving collection of essays exploring tree-based scents, the authors musings range from: -The aromatic bark of the Ponderosa Pine; -The heavenly extrusion that is Mediterranean olive oil; -The bracing snap of a perfectly mixed gin-and-tonic -The prehistoric lure and modern-day danger of woodsmoke; -The joy of “breathing in the world” of a pulp-and paper based book (particularly an old one); -The warm, sweet or spicy notes in the signature of an oak-casked fine whiskey.
For this reader, the literary journey travelled invoked a purity and a pleasure that was simply magical - a celebration of the wonder that is a tree, (any tree, yet here we visit with some of the most charming, up-close-and-personal) - allowing us to explore our mysterious and thrilling nasal connection to the intoxicating abundance of wood-leaf-and-blossom scents revealed.
A great big thank you to the author and the publisher for an ARC of this book. All thoughts presented are my own.
This is a fascinating little book, essentially 13 essays on the smellscapes of different trees. Ultimately though it's a testament to the perpetual value of trees in our daily lives and how gravely they are threatened. This theme runs through each chapter the way tree rings run through a trunk.
I enjoyed the novelty of this book, whilst I'm familiar with some of the smells and trees mentioned, many were new to me. I don't typically go round smelling trees (aside from the occasional sniff of a Christmas pine etc) but did once visit Arizona and experienced the magical smell of rain on the creosote plant, that memory is the reason I wanted to read this book.
This book proved a fascinating, evocative and immersive journey around the world meeting new species and reacquainting with known ones. The writing is engaging and accessible with no prior knowledge required. It's given me a new appreciation for trees which are such an integral part of daily life, yet - aside from trying to use less paper and recycling cardboard - I tend to take them for granted. It's also awakened in me a keenness to smell more (this may be linked to recently loosing my sense of smell due to covid) because as the book explains unlike sight and sound, smell bypasses the usual neural processing and interpretation centres and goes straight for memory. There's also a selection of short audio pieces composed to accompany the text (in the audiobook version and on soundcloud).
It reminds us to think about our connection to trees through our sense of smell and taste.
When we are sipping our gin and tonic we are tasting an imperial troika of trees, juniper in the gin, quinine from the bark of the cinchona in the tonic and citrus in the lime or lemon we add. Likewise when we are sipping whisky or wine we are tasting the white oak from the barrels the alcohol has been stored in.
The taste of olive oil in our salads and the wonderful smell old books have comes from the lignin from the trees the paper was made of.
I bought this book in Richard Booth's Bookshop in Hay and was incredibly taken with the sensuality of how the author related to trees. It's a small book, read cover to cover easily in under 24 hours. Particularly pleasant is that it comes with an accompanying soundtrack.
Opening paragraph was instantly engaging:
I stoop and pluck a spiky green ball from the lawn. Pressing my thumb into one of the three seams that divide its surface, I prise open the outer husk. Inside sits a cleaning mahogany seed with a dull, creamy cap. In a city park in Denver, but as my thumbs bruise the protective shell and the seed emerges, a waft of aroma yanks me back in time to childhood trees in England. No Proustian madeleines for me. Instead, give me conkers.
This is the perfect little pocket sized book to share with anyone that needs to stop and ‘Inhale. Enjoy the aroma’.
David George Haskell takes the reader on a journey unraveling the aroma of trees - the primary language which they use to talk, conspire and whisper with each other.
“Aroma is the most ignored and suppressed of the senses, yet it offers the swiftest and deepest links between the outside world and our memories and emotions, and enlivens all the other senses”.
The book explores how smells and aromas can evoke our memories, for instance, the smell of a conker conjuring up reminisces of childhood games and pockets stuffed with treasures.
“Every aroma is an invitation to stories of interconnection between trees and people”.
I enjoyed reading about all the different varieties of trees that are featured in the book. It instantly made me want to go for a walk, just so that I could soak in the multitude of scents around me. Haskell includes notes about the history of each tree as well which was fascinating. I think it’s incredible how some trees have stood for so many hundreds of years.
As someone who lives surrounded by piles of books, I particularly loved the chapter about books and bookshelves worldwide. The aroma of fresh paper, ink and glue is one that I’m sure all book lovers enjoy when they walk into a bookshop. As well as that slightly musty, darker smell of shelves stuffed full of secondhand books. What could be nicer?!
I love the fact that there is an accompanying sound cloud which you can also listen to, making this a true multi-sensory experience. If you’re curious, you can find this at: soundcloud.com/katherinelehman/albums).
I’m trying to read more nature books at the moment and this fit the bill perfectly. A beautiful little book reminding the reader to take pleasure in the world around them.
Being the resident nature nut in the bookstore where I work, I do read quite a substantial amount of natural history books over the course of a year, and when the opportunity arose to read and review this bijou, glorious and fascinating book about trees, how could I possibly resist? Broken down into 13 concise and illuminating essays on a variety of trees, with diverse histories and habitats, Haskell takes us on a whistle stop tour of arboreal delights, traversing their history, their communication, the threats they face, but ultimately the absolute importance of their renewal and survival on the planet, by turn ensuring our survival too. The ecological threat we pose as a species to their survival cannot be overstated enough, and the message runs solidly throughout the book, as Haskell opens our eyes to the importance of trees in our life- both for body and soul.
Haskell observes early in the book that,
“Amid the smell of healthy trees, we feel at home. Leafy odours of vigorous trees signal productive habitats and human well-being. The absence of such balm sets us on edge.”
and I think that this is the complete joy of his essays. He links trees to our human experience throughout,
“When we smell a tree, we become physically connected to a small part of it, molecule-to-molecule. The boundary between tree and human blurs a little,”
be it drawing on fond childhood memories of conker contests, the enjoyment of a peaty dram of whiskey from aged white oak barrels, a snifter of gin, or even a snifter of a pine tree hanging from rear view mirrors across the globe, to, perhaps one of any bookworm’s private pleasures, book sniffing- yes, the pleasure is real. I love the way that Haskell relates sniffing a book to truly breathing in the world. Marvellous.
There are wonderful little asides from Haskell’s own life and his experiences with observing and studying trees peppering the book throughout, and my underlining pencil (which personally I love sniffing, especially pencil shavings when it’s sharpened) was on overtime. There are so many little nuggets of wisdom and interest to be gleaned throughout, bringing to the reader’s attention, some familiar, and more unfamiliar, residents of the arboreal world. By linking his subject so closely in with human experience, he encourages us to sit up and take notice more of the ancient history and wisdom of trees, and there is a list of six practices at the close of the book, to invigorate, inspire and excite our love and appreciation of trees.
An absolutely superb little book that encompasses some big themes in a succinct, entertaining and informative way, without being overtly judgemental. Haskell’s defining message in Thirteen Ways To Smell A Tree is to simply inspire us to connect with, observe and value trees more, a message he achieves extremely well. Highly recommended, and it smells jolly nice too…
(There are also a series of compositions to accompany the book by composer and violinist Katherine Lehman, and she explains in her closing chapter, how she took Haskell’s essays and descriptions of the trees and converted the sensory pleasures he describes to music. They can be accessed at soundcloud.com/katherinelehman/albums, and also in the audiobook edition.)
I was really keen to read this as I am a huge lover of trees and I feel at home in the woodland. I am a self-confessed tree hugger and I am strongly affected by smells.The writing is poetic, evocative and intelligent. Haskell uses his knowledge of biology in combination with an exploration of the historical, ecological and cultural importance of trees in our lives. I was aware of a lot of the subject matter from my own studies but I loved learning about the historical elements of our use of certain trees such as the early medicinal uses of quinine from the inner bark of the Cinchona tree and it’s addition to carbonated water to make it more palatable, and how it evolved to become tonic water. The use of oak in whisky barrels to impart different flavours was interesting and I was fascinated by the chapter on woodsmoke. I also enjoyed reading about the interactions between the trees and insects or fungi, and the way they use their tannins and other compounds as defence mechanisms. The ecological impact of tree disease and loss is also explored.
There is a strong theme of the link between humans and trees, both in the protection and nourishment we gain from them and the link between the aromatic compounds and our physical and mental wellbeing. The link between Smell and memory is explored throughout, for example the smell of a conker evoking childhood memories and the smell of pine, cinnamon and cloves eliciting memories of winter celebrations.
The book is a truly delightful, thought provoking read, encouraging a more considered, mindful approach to our interactions and relationship with trees. The exercises at the end of the book are a thoughtful way to achieve this.
Thirteen Ways to Smell a Tree: A celebration of our connection with trees is a small, easy-to-read non-fiction book packed with facts and insights – both historical and modern-day. The author, David George Haskell, took me around the world to get up close and personal with some of the world’s most marvellous trees, including one of my favourites, the Ginko, and one I’d never heard of, the American Basswood. He also encourages readers to explore trees outside of their natural habitat, closer to home, through the aroma of books, gin & tonic and olive oil.
This book reminded me to open my nostrils and focus on scents when surrounded by trees. I love being reminded to engage with nature in different ways. It is so essential to our fight against climate change. Those who connect with the natural world are far more likely to take action to avoid further damaging our amazing green planet.
After reading, I stepped out of the house I was staying in, where I have been many times before. I was knocked backwards by the scent of the lavender outside the door. The book had focused my mind on my sense of smell, and I was now primed to enjoy the soporific, soothing aromas oozing from the small, unassuming bushes in front of me. The book served as a great reminder not to only rely on my eyes and ears when I am out and about.
If you think you know trees, think again. It would make a great present for nature lovers or for anyone who is curious and loves to learn.
I have never really associated trees with smells ..I’ve always thought of them visually! But trees have definitely become my peaceful place in recent years and this book reconnected me with the relationship between trees, smells and memories.. This is a series of essays. Each is an exploration of smell, history, science, memory, of lives intertwined with trees. Each chapter takes a starting point and spins out from there: trees being cut down; a glass of gin and tonic; a bookshop. The writing is spectacular! I’ve never read writing which conjures up smell more perfectly! ‘I release the horse-chestnut seed into my hand: from the green shell rises a salad bowl for the nose, wet and vegetative, tinged with composty tang..’ Booklovers! - There is a wonderful chapter on books and book sniffing which discusses the smells of particular types of books - ‘’Smoky vanilla. A hint of dark, rich soil. Sawdust, almonds and chocolate.’ The chapter explores links to printing processes and to the trees themselves .. This is a book to dip into, to immerse yourself in the beautiful writing and maybe read it next to the tree being discussed..It’s a sensual delight and if you want more there’s a soundtrack!
𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕎𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕋𝕠 𝕊𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝔸 𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕖 By David George Haskell @davidgeorgehaskell
I don't know about you but I absolutely love trees, I love watching them change through the seasons, I love watching them sway in the breeze, I love the way they provide shelter and homes for animals and birds but most of all I love the scent of trees as you walk through the forest especially after a rainfall.
I found this book very interesting. It talks about how we as people have connected to trees for many generations. Each chapter explores a new aroma from leaf litter to woodsmoke, pine resin to tannin, quinine to bay leaf 🍃 from olive oil to gin, and tonic to old books!
Now we can all relate to the scent of books, old and new, and the fragrance of a burning fire. 🔥
This book summons lots of good feelings and wonderful facts and thoughts about the many humble species of trees. 🌳 🏡 🌲
A lovely little book combining nature writing with popular science - in that Haskell looks at trees from the sense of smell - which is both primal and complicated chemically. The collection of essays goes from horse chestnuts and conkers to the paper in old books, taking in many ancient trees, and modern tree products along the way. I particularly enjoyed reading about the smelly female ginkgo and the white oak of whisky barrels. But was most concerned about the particulates coming from traffic reacting with 'tree' air-fresheners in your car, and similarly for woodsmoke. You don't need to know the chemistry as Haskell always gives examples of the smells in real life. A super book for tree-lovers. Read my fuller review on my blog https://annabookbel.net/thirteen-ways...
This is a lovely little book and an uncomplicated read. Step into the forest of aroma, the communication systems in earth, root, bark, leaf that precede us humans by millions of years. Then, enter us humans, into this aromatic dance led by our limbic brain through our olfactory sense opening up our awareness into this aromatic landscape. In the last chapter, I love how we are drawn together as tree, paper, and communication of the written word, as reader, and our connection to the book through its smell.
A very well-written sensory read, though most of these trees are foreign to me. Its as if you can almost smell everything the writer was describing. It evokes my own memories of smelling various plants. Its true that I remember smells of plants more strongly, planted deep in my memory. It also comes with accompanied music found on soundcloud. Pretty cool.
Beautifully written, very poetic but sometimes the descriptions don't really fit to the subject. I love to smell, and this book helped me through 10 days at the hospital.
The arresting title of Haskell's book immediately aroused my interest. I'd never really appreciated the olfactory appeal of trees, other than when sawing fallen timber for the fireplace (at a time when it was still considered acceptable to do so) or the factors that determine how, why, where and when they smell as they do. Given my lifelong loathing of 'forest glade' air fresheners and the pine-infused cardboard trees that dangle from drivers' windscreens and, more recently, an online bookseller's vain attempt to capture in a malodorous bookmark the smell of a new book, I was all the more impressed by Haskell's discussion of aromatic diversity. This short survey contains much environmental, cultural and historical material, all expressed with more scientific and linguistic precision than I could muster. The final touchy-feely-smelly chapter, notably the exhortation to 'invite your nose into this place-seeking', reminded me, however, of a risible college course in which bored, somnolent students were instructed to walk around the locality identifying the characteristic sounds and smells on the street. Unsurprisingly, they instantly woke up and smelt the coffee in the nearest 'branch' of a well-known outlet.
This was an interesting little read, with lots of tidbits of information in there. I especially liked the section about smelling books, and the variety of different trees discussed. Listening to the music at the same time was fun too. The guidance on smelling trees at the end was good and this book will probably inspire me to use my nose more!
Although the title of this book may be seen as rather strange this book is beautiful. I was fully immersed and absolutely loved how David took me on a sensory journey. As a nature lover and someone who feels a connection to trees I thoroughly enjoyed this read it made me feel at peace. I would recommend this to anyone who also feels a connection to trees and nature.