It's 270+ pages on a single home. A famous home? No, no no. Just a normal Maine cabin built by a reasonably normal, if obsessive, individual. It's not even a well documented home - the 'original plan' talked about is something sketched on the inside of an electric panel.

This book is a labor of love by someone who loves this home, a home built by someone who also loved it. It's that simple, and this results in a simple book. I have great memories of the Maine coast and my review is exceptionally colored by this. ( )

I loved engineer Henry Petroski's memoir, PAPERBOY. And I also loved the late Larry Haun's A CARPENTER'S LIFE AS TOLD BY HOUSES, so I thought I'd probably like Petroski's THE HOUSE WITH SIXTEEN HANDMADE DOORS, all about a summer home he and his wife bought in Coastal Maine. Unfortunately I didn't. I didn't actively dislike the book, because Petroski is a very good writer and a very likeable guy. And I did read over a hundred pages of his new book before finally deciding it wasn't going to get any better. I'll concede that he did plenty of homework about the 1950s house - who built it, lots about the family that the builder came from, plenty about the local history of Arrowsic Island and its natives. More than plenty about the simple but meticulous craftsmanship and the tools and skills that went into the house's construction and the economy of materials. And some interesting anecdotes about the neighbors. And Petroski's wife, Catherine, adds lots of black and white photos to 'show' what he's describing. But in the end it was just a little too bland for my taste, and read more than a little like a "What I Did on My Summer Vacation" written by a respected engineer-author. I suspect that Petroski is one of those guys who has a hard time turning off his brain and just relaxing - which is kinda what I always figured having a summer home was for - and so he bumped around his summer house all season with flashlights and a notepad and pencil and tape measure, seeking out the secrets of the mode of construction of his new knotty pine-clad acquisition.

Sorry, Henry, but I ended up doing a lot of skimming the last third or so of the book. It simply did not arouse my interest. But then I am a decidedly UNhandy sort of guy, so maybe it would appeal to a real carpenter and handyman. I'll pass it along to a friend of mine who might understand and appreciate it better. ( )

An excellent book on the engineering of the summer home of Henry Petroski in Arrowsic, Maine. The sixty year old house had been hand made, and Petroski has examined all parts of it to see how the house was designed, prepared and built by the original owner. Each door was hand made for the house, and each one shows unique style and construction. The house is tightly built, and even during winter winds the house does not shake and creak. Even the construction of the kitchen cabinets is examined, and the types of wood and their use are shown and explained. A preliminary examination of a designed of brads shows that they were instead over-sized screws that were filed flat, and that the drawers were not dovetailed together as a joiner would do, but each end is simply nailed in a butt joint.

As usual with Prof. Petroski, he uses unusual events to make lessons, showing how the invasion of his home by a flying squirrel challenged his thinking process and showed how wrong he "...could be in interpreting data, evidence and behavior," and how wrong he could be even in the face of past experience.

I recommend this book for anyone who has ever done carpentry and home repair, as it shows how even sixty years later the pragmatic solutions to problems can affect a home. It shows how to de-construct the building of a house without pulling a single nail or removing a single board. This book is also recommended for any engineers who see the beauty of skill and mathematics in even the most simple acts of construction.

And this is an excellent text for archaeologists as well, who can only admire Petroski's ability to make dumb wood and concrete explain the human footprint on the land. Howard Carter in opening King Tut's tomb could not have done a better job in explaining why things were done, and why, and what the esthetic and engineering impacts were on other parts of the building. ( )