This is, in the most fundamental sense, a book centered around the concept of constructing a house. It is a diminutive house (specifically tailored for the occupant) situated behind a main residence, intended for an author to pen their thoughts in. Pollan, whose previous works I have relished, thereby influencing my choice to peruse this one, also utilizes this book to address the intersection and interaction of humans, history, architecture, and society. There is an abundance of content here, and I truly savored the reading experience, although I can clearly envision how others might not share the same sentiment.

There is a significant amount of carpentry discourse - descriptions, explanations, and a few diagrams. I value this aspect as I have had my fair share of carpentry work, but I can understand how it might seem verbose and uninteresting to some. Additionally, the very notion of someone having the luxury of time, money, and space to not only design but also build a special little "writing house" strikes me as something that could potentially irk certain individuals. (Could it be jealousy? I'm not sure. I enjoy reading about things that are beyond my reach; otherwise, how else would I come even remotely close to experiencing them?)

In all of Pollan's books, he has instilled in me the desire to undertake or embrace whatever he is writing about. This instance is no different. After reading this, I yearn to design and construct a cozy little house in my backyard. He also invariably teaches me something (in this case, a wealth of knowledge about architecture) and offers me a novel perspective on society as a whole.

Ordinarily, I can almost universally recommend his works to anyone, but this is the exception. I sense that it would appeal to a more niche audience. Fortunately for me, I am part of that select group.

Probably a 3.5 star were the option available.

I picked this book up about 14 years ago now, shortly after my dad and I both read Second Nature: A Gardener’s Education. Both of us, but my dad especially, enjoyed that first book by Pollan. Dad finished A Place of My Own before me (actually stole my copy), and his take was that it was nothing special, and lacked something Second Nature had. Dad and I had created a garden some years prior and he felt Second Nature did a good job of capturing all of the emotions and fascinating bits of learning involved in planting a garden. To him, A Place of My Own fell a bit flat. I set out to prove him wrong, but for one reason or another didn’t make it past 60ish pages, and after dragging this book around with me for a decade and a half before I finally dug in and read it.

My verdict: Dad was pretty much right. There was something deeply personal and authentic about Second Nature that is just not present in A Place of My Own. In the introduction to my copy Pollan talks about your second book creating a trajectory for a career—tellingly, none of his later books (to my knowledge) have much to do with the first two of the “snooty intellectual learns earthy life skills” genre. Instead, it feels like he set out to build a thing simply to write a book about building that thing, tried to shoehorn some higher concepts into the mix, and ended up with an uneven but still pretty enjoyable book.

The hardest part of this book for me is the amount of conceptual/philosophical/whatever meditation on aspects of home building. He brings up architectural thoughts and ideas and runs with those ideas without giving me the kind of background information I would need to really follow him. The first 60 pages or so were slow moving—clearly why I stopped at that point years ago. The book gets a lot better once he moves to the practical business of building the writing house. The snooty intellectual learning how to cut a mortise or frame a roof was much more satisfying—it felt more like what I wanted out of the book.

The meat of the book was really fun. I am now staring at parts of my yard where I might build a snooty intellectual man cave of my own. Definitely worth a read if you are a liberal arts major with some interest in building things. And part of my father’s boredom with the book may have come from the fact that he had worked in construction and remodeling and the things that were new and exciting to Pollan (and me) were a bit dull for him. (My dad passed away before I finished the book, so I can’t ask him—not really surprising when it took four presidential administrations for me to buckle down and finish it).

Last gripes: Pollan plays the architect and the builder of his house against each other, which works as a narrative tool but feels a little… mean at times? As in criticizing the architect for making Pollan’s fancy little intellectual man cave too fancy and impractical—dude, you told an architect to go hog wild on your hipster writer daydream, what did you expect? Also, a few more diagrams and pictures would have been much appreciated.

So Dad, I’m more or less with you on this one, but I had a lot of fun reading it. I probably need to go back and give Second Nature a do-over now. I recommend this book to anyone who looks at the summary and says “huh that sounds cool,” it delivers what it advertises. Just power through the first 60ish pages.

Overall, while A Place of My Own may not be as good as Second Nature, it still has its merits. It offers an interesting look into the process of building a personal space, with both its practical and philosophical aspects. Pollan's writing is engaging, although the slow start and the somewhat one-sided portrayal of the architect and builder could have been improved. Despite these flaws, I found the book enjoyable and it even inspired me to consider building my own little haven. If you're interested in architecture, building, or just a good read about a personal project, this book is worth checking out.

I also think that Pollan's exploration of the relationship between the intellectual and the practical is an important one. In a world where we often value theoretical knowledge over hands-on skills, it's refreshing to see someone like Pollan embrace both. His experience of learning how to build a house not only gave him a deeper appreciation for the craft but also taught him valuable lessons about himself and the world around him.

In conclusion, A Place of My Own is a book that will appeal to a wide range of readers. Whether you're a DIY enthusiast, an architecture buff, or simply someone who enjoys a good story about personal growth and discovery, this book has something to offer. Just be prepared to slog through the first 60 pages or so and you'll be rewarded with a fun and engaging read.

At first, you get excited.

Michael Pollan, a relatable non-carpenter, has a passion for creating his own little shack for writing and daydreaming. It's easy to identify with this desire, as many of us have entertained similar thoughts. In the initial few chapters, he skillfully integrates his thoughts on architecture with his musings about his home space, while also providing a practical account of how architects work. It's all quite interesting and engaging.

However, at a certain point, for no apparent reason, the narrative starts to lose its luster and becomes dull. Perhaps it's during the long descriptions of the infighting between Pollan's architect and contractor, or when you sense that he has glossed over a significant part of his own development as a carpenter that sounds fascinating. For example, when he casually mentions, "I was manning the table saw, when Joe said...", you can't help but wonder, "When did you acquire that ability?" Don't you want to reflect on how you gained the confidence to operate a machine that could potentially sever your hand in an instant?

But unfortunately, he doesn't. This book isn't a comprehensive, step-by-step account of what happened, along with his personal reflections on it. It's not like he's saying, "Hey, I bet you've thought about doing this. Want to know what it's like? Here's the real deal."

Instead, it's more of an overly long and slightly flowery collection of reflections on whatever Pollan feels like sharing about the process.

And while it's great when it's great - I'm truly fascinated by his perspective on architecture, and he does answer a lot of questions I had about the various people involved in building - but then, just before the chapter on Windows, you suddenly have the overwhelming feeling that you've been reading this book for your entire adult life, and he's still skipped over some aspects of the process that would be of great interest to you. At this point, you're ready to abandon ship. And if you're like me, that's exactly what you do.

I couldn't find many audiobooks on architecture, so when I discovered this one, I immediately jumped on it.

It's an ideal book for those with no prior experience in any form of architecture and who want to gain an understanding of how to build a house, or at least something similar to a house. There was a lengthy introduction in which Michael delved into his personal motivations for building a house. Since I don't know who he is, to be frank, I don't really care why he is building a house. After all, whoever picks up this book to build a house has different motivations and isn't seeking motivation.

Finally, when it got down to the actual content, the book was extremely interesting. I even had to take breaks in between to soak up the information I had just learned. The importance of the land on which the house will be built dictates a great deal about the architecture. The primary rule seems to be its relation to the sun for light. As a general principle, the house has to face the right way in order to preserve heat in the morning and afternoon. It shouldn't be too high for wind or too low for mold. An old technique is to hunt an animal from that land. You should think about the landscape in relation to the building like a painting, not in the center, with no straight paths, but at an angle, with a foreground, middle ground, and background.

I was fascinated as Michael explained the influence of the philosopher Henry David Thoreau on American architecture, particularly in minimizing the separation between indoor and outdoor living. This is a stark contrast to the standard idea of a home, which is a closed, safe space of one's own. Surprisingly and to my delight, Michael also explained Feng Shui and his skepticism towards the philosophy, but he did explain the physical and practical applications of it, which somewhat overlap with the Western perspective on architecture in relation to the land. Essentially, it has a strong focus on flow, whether it's visual or a walkway, and there should be no dead ends where the energy or "chi" can stagnate.

Michael then went even further and approached the interpretation of the land from a scientific perspective, looking at it from a Paleolithic hunter-gatherer's point of view. I can't say I can relate to this one. Once he decided on the location, he then started to look at the design of the house itself. Naturally, this begins with the basic layout of the house or space. By corresponding with his architect, I learned that you should have a collection or folder of some sort of images of buildings or parts of a building as source material to help flesh out your own design. You should also know the basic lingo of architecture, as it has become vastly more complex throughout history and might require a type of key. It's good to know the different styles and variations available.

Michael described the constant drawings made by the architect from different angles and the process of envisioning the right house based on his needs, desires, and philosophies. Now the house can finally be started. This chapter actually begins with a fascinating part explaining the importance of the foundation to a house and the philosophy behind it. By now, it's obvious that architecture is closely tied to philosophy. An example he used was the great American architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, who is very well known for his blend of nature and the house and his horizontal lines in his design. However, the foundation of the house is actually one of his major focuses. He was very against attics and especially basements, not just because they disrupt the foundation but also because it creates a hierarchy and has a racist history. I really liked that Michael added this insight on Wright and his views to give you a perspective from an important professional, as opposed to a beginner like the rest of the book.

Once Michael started actually building the house, he saw the struggle and sort of battle that goes on in any construction between the architect and the builder and the compromises that have to be made. One of them is that the actual foundation that matters is not the one we see but actually the one deep enough to never be affected by frost and thereby good to build on.

Anyway, before the concrete can be poured for the foundation, the building has to be first approved by an undisputed inspector from the government to ensure that everything will follow strict regulations. Once that's been done, the concrete is poured. Michael went into how definite this is and how it can't be undone pretty much ever. It can be versatile when wet and unmovable when dry. This part requires a lot of physical labor. As I previously mentioned, the concept of the foundation of a building has been used by philosophers to explain their ideas throughout history. Michael gave several examples of historic philosophers.

Once the great pieces of wood arrived, Michael outlined the responsibility and meaning behind using these big trees for one's own means and not wasting them, as they quite literally died for him. This weight and importance is something that carpenters, especially, take very seriously, so they are almost like guardians of the use of this material. Michael had some issues with his own builder who was unwilling to make certain choices that went against this "code". Michael explained his choice to use a balloon frame and its background. But despite the building being fairly simple, he still faced problems due to mistakes made from not measuring accurately, thereby having to adjust everything.

Next comes a crucial part of the house, which is the ceiling and roof. There was a fascinating part about the structure and problems in a pitched roof. Sprinkled throughout all of this, I've learned plenty of new terms, which have been hugely informative. Michael then introduced Robert Venturi and his Vanna house for his mother, which is an important and often-mentioned house in the study of architecture. He explained in detail how this house has features for the sake of themselves and not necessarily their use. More specifically, he was talking about the gabled roof with the split in the middle, which defeats the purpose. Essentially, this is about the battle between the architect and the builder, which seems to be such a big theme in this book. Honestly, Michael painted these two guys to be total assholes in some way or another, constantly bickering and trying to fight for some point in the construction. It can be a little too much sometimes and even includes the builder's political views? Hard pass! The more interesting chapters were the history and importance in architecture of the roof and windows, two major subjects that were the focus of architectural battles of style throughout history, such as flat and gabled roofs and their variations, and the size of the windows.

The chapter where Michael tried to place the style of his house got really boring as it was way too specific, and I basically had no idea what the hell he was talking about. On the flip side, it's Michael's passion and attention to explaining the background and details of things that make him a great author, and he's made me a fan of him.

This passion and honesty with himself shine through in the last few chapters where he crafts his own furniture. This is where you get an appreciation and understanding for different types of wood. Overall, this was an excellent book, and I really didn't expect it to be this good and interesting. I look forward to reading more of his books.

I truly desire to have an affinity for this book. The themes it presents, along with its lyricism and the genuine passion for the subject matter, are indeed quite appealing. This is precisely the reason why it has remained on my bookshelf for numerous years. Every now and then, I return to it, hoping to give it yet another opportunity, but I never seem to progress very far.

Because each time I commence from the beginning, I become stuck. I am unable to move beyond his ruminations on "architectural trends of the 1990s" within the first few pages, the concepts that ostensibly underpin this book. He makes references to individuals and ideas that were, in fact, highly influential, yet decades earlier. Eisenman and the remainder of the New York Five emerged in the 1960s. The same goes for Venturi; by the time he receives the Pritzker, he is already on the decline. This group achieved their fullest impact in the 1970s and held sway throughout the 1980s. However, by the 1990s, their influence had waned, and new philosophies were beginning to gain traction.

I am cognizant that this may seem overly fastidious, but I simply cannot overlook the egotism manifested in this misreading of recent architectural history. It is as if something did not exist until Pollan became aware of it. That small indication of blind ego that he reveals right at the outset of the book diminishes the pleasure of perusing what is otherwise truly excellent prose. Moreover, it renders all the other references and revelations that surface later somewhat suspect in my eyes.

A Compact Treatise on Architecture: A Personal Exploration

This book offers a compact yet engaging exploration of architecture. As I delved into it, I realized I was a reluctant fan of Pollan, and allowing that to blossom into full-fledged fandom felt rather pleasant. It's his second book, and at times, it seems he's still finding his footing, which is an easy observation to make in hindsight.

Some of his source material struck me as a bit obvious. For instance, the references to Walden were perhaps a bit overdone. He also leans quite heavily on Wright and le Corbousier. As a fan of Christopher Alexander, I couldn't help but wish he'd explored that area a bit more deeply. Overall, though, I enjoyed his concise history of 20th-century architecture and the roadmap he provides for further reading. It often had the feel of reading a proto-season of 99% Invisible.

There are a few moments of genuine prescience in the book. Pollan clearly understands the relationship between architecture and what was then the emerging virtual world. It was delightful to see how accurately he predicted certain aspects, over 20 years ago.

If you're a fan of Pollan's style of social commentary, history, and personal exploration, chances are you've already read this book. But if you haven't, it's a fine and quick read that's well worth your time.

I'll preface this review by stating that I have (or at least formerly had) scant to no interest in carpentry, woodworking, or even architecture. After perusing the book, I can assert that I seriously question whether individuals of those professions were within his intended audience, albeit much of the content evidently lies within those domains. I believe it is more directly targeted at those considering taking up a new hobby, yet it is doing so with a shotgun approach rather than a rifle's precision.

Personally, I picked up the book simply because I have an affinity for Pollan's writing - not only his style but also the manner in which he incorporates so much else into the discourse. And my word choice there was intentional, as his tone is far more conversational than anything else. Examining some of the reviews on Amazon, however, it becomes evident that his writing is not universally adored. Yes, he employs "complicated" sentence structures, and yes, he possesses an extensive vocabulary. Most authors do. I had to look up a dozen or so words throughout the 300 pages (obstreperous?), but I like having to do that (as long as it's not overly frequent) and never until I read those reviews did I even notice the elaborate sentences. It just flows that smoothly, as any excellent writing should. If you take the time to read the review that attempts to parody Pollan's style (and downgrades the book because of it), you'll understand why the reviewer struggled so much with the book. I'm no literature snob, but hyphens and semicolons really aren't that complex.

Here's a passage that the reviewer I mentioned above probably loathed, but that I relished enough to quote (obviously):

"I remember as a teenager reading that Marshall McLuhan had likened opening the Sunday paper to settling into a warm bath. The metaphor delivered a tiny jolt of recognition, because I too found reading - reading almost anything - to be a vaguely sensual, slightly indulgent pleasure, and one that had very little to do with the acquisition of information. Rather than a means to an end, the deep piles of words on the page comprised for me a kind of soothing environment, a plush cushion into which sometimes I could barely wait to sink my head. More often than not, I could remember almost nothing the moment I lifted myself out of the newspaper or magazine or paperback in which I'd been immersed. Not that I usually bothered to try. Mostly I just let the print wash over me, as if it were indeed warm water, destined to swirl down the drain of my forgetfulness."

And this is from a book about constructing a one-room house in the woods.

The references and discussions in this book span from Frank Lloyd Wright to Plato, from Thoreau to Ayn Rand and Thomas Jefferson and feng shui exercises involving running downhill in imitation of water. In my view, Pollan accomplishes all this without sounding pretentious, but I suppose I can see how his breadth could be perceived that way. I have Walden and The Fountainhead sitting on my to-read stack, but I still understood and valued the references. If anything, they only made me more eager to read the original sources.

And that last sentence could encapsulate my entire review of this book. Pollan's writing encourages and rewards reading, and this is an outstanding example of it. He delves into copious amounts of material related to what the title implies, but those were not the highlights for me. Maybe I'll continue this review at another time to touch on those aspects, but I'm certain other people have already done so.

This book is truly a self-absorbed, self-congratulatory, and pedantic piece of work. It makes for an uninteresting read that fails to engage the reader on any meaningful level.

Unless, of course, you have an inexplicable love for reading about privileged, indulgent guys who build sheds but conveniently hire out the hard parts. And then have the audacity to think that this mundane activity is a reflection of man's greatest struggles and achievements. If that's your cup of tea, then by all means, knock yourself out.

But for the rest of us, it's a painful experience. And, quite frankly, Mr. Pollan, it's rather embarrassing. Your attempt to make something so ordinary seem profound and significant falls flat. It's a disappointment that leaves the reader with a sense of dissatisfaction and a feeling that their time could have been better spent elsewhere.

Finally, I gave up. I marked this as a DNF. I'm sorry, but not really. It was just so so boring. I tried my best at first, but as time went on, I just couldn't find the motivation to continue. The task seemed endless and uninteresting. I felt like I was wasting my time. Maybe it was because I wasn't in the right mood or because the subject matter didn't appeal to me. Whatever the reason, I knew that it was time to call it quits. I don't regret my decision. Sometimes, it's better to admit defeat and move on to something more fulfilling. I'm sure there are other things out there that will capture my attention and make me excited to learn.

I think most of us yearn for a place that belongs solely to us. It could be a room, a space, or perhaps an entire structure. The same holds true for this author, a writer with a dream. He not only desires a space in the backyard to serve as his writing studio but also has the ambition to build it himself. Despite lacking construction experience or skills, he compensates with his remarkable writing abilities. He has meticulously constructed a detailed account of the process of designing this personal haven. Pollan is a talented wordsmith, and through his often lengthy sentences, he shares the experiences he has gained, along with the history of various aspects of architecture and several philosophical insights regarding time, space, and creation.

It wasn't precisely the book I had anticipated. I was frequently inundated by the sheer volume of words. I might have abandoned it halfway through were it not for the exquisite craftsmanship of the very sentences that initially overwhelmed me. I had to look up words. For instance, 'chiaroscuro.' Go ahead, look it up; I'll wait.

Pollan writes from an elevated perspective, yet still manages to incorporate self-deprecating humor and observations about his personal relationships. His building partner, Joe, and his architect, Charlie, have a rather contentious relationship, with neither holding much admiration for the other.

Here are a few of his shorter, yet for me, favorite passages:

"The work of building seemed to hold out the promise of at least a partial cure for my addiction to print."

"The way I see it, there is only a fixed number of times - unknowable, but certainly not large - that I can expect to use a chainsaw before I become the victim of a blood-spurting and possibly life-threatening accident."

"Building a roof is by its very nature conducive to speculation...it's the place where the dreams of architecture meet the facts of nature."

"Materials are so essential to our physical experience of a place that to disregard them - to ignore the coldness of steel, the dumb strength of concrete, the sympathy of wood, whose temperature never startles - is to throw away a great deal of architecture's expressive power."

"Architectural plans look different in the cold, especially when you're rocking stiffly from boot to boot on top of fossilized mud, dispatching neural messages to toes and fingertips that go unheeded, and struggling to interpret lines on a drawing that only seem more ambiguous the harder you stare at them."

"Luckily for me these windows would be twelve feet off the ground, so no one would ever be in a position to observe the gentleness of my learning curve."

I adored that last one...the gentleness of my learning curve..... :)

Read this if you have the patience for or a love of long sentences and big words, and if you also aspire to have a place of your own.

Michael Pollan is an extremely interesting writer.

He has this remarkable ability to pique my interest in things that I原本 didn't think I had much inclination towards.

"A Place of My Own" is somewhat like a modern-day rendition of Thoreau constructing his hut on Walden Pond. However, in Pollan's case, he has much better appliances and wood, and a higher standard of living if one were to measure it by the yardstick of money.

Pollan seems to include everything in his story, perhaps with the exception of the kitchen sink.

There is almost an overwhelming amount of information, and in some parts, it can be a rather slow read.

I recall Pollan once giving advice about writing, which was "Velocity and truth. Velocity and truth. Keep it honest and keep it fast." This advice seems a bit at odds with the pace of this particular work.

Nevertheless, despite its flaws, the book still manages to offer some fascinating insights and perspectives.

It makes one think about the relationship between ourselves and the places we inhabit, and how we can create a space that truly feels like our own.

Overall, it's a thought-provoking read that, while not perfect, is still well worth the time and effort.

Lev recommended that I check this out after learning about my summer project.

And indeed, it was well worth the read.

It appears to me that Pollan engaged in a great deal more thinking during the construction process than I have thus far.

Therefore, it was pleasant to listen to the matters he considered and the sources he perused.

Pollan's insights and the breadth of his research provided me with a new perspective on my own project.

I was inspired by the way he approached the construction, taking into account various factors and drawing on a wide range of knowledge.

This has motivated me to think more deeply about my own summer project and explore different avenues of research.

I am grateful to Lev for recommending this to me and look forward to applying what I have learned to my work.