A delightful mixture of early American know-how and good old-fashioned gentility, Eric Sloane's Do's and Don'ts captures the spirit of bygone America in words and pictures. Combining two of the beloved folk historian's nostalgic how-to guides, this collection offers vintage, homespun advice that recalls "the joy of doing things not just the old-fashioned way, but plainly the right way." A shining historical gem, this little book of American lore recalls a more kindly, less hurried time. Lovingly gathered by "Mr. Americana" himself from colonial-era almanacs and diaries, hundreds of brief reflections spread time-honored wisdom on everything from curing hiccups, lighting a proper fire, and mending clothing and furniture, to predicting the weather, making soap, and getting rid of ants, bees, swallows — and boring houseguests. Sloane's evocative drawings add the perfect finishing touch.
Eric Sloane (born Everard Jean Hinrichs) was an American landscape painter and author of illustrated works of cultural history and folklore. He is considered a member of the Hudson River School of painting.
Eric Sloane was born in New York City. As a child, he was a neighbor of noted sign painter and type designer Frederick W. Goudy. Sloane studied art and lettering with Goudy. While he attended the Art Students League of New York City, he changed his name because George Luks and John French Sloan suggested that young students should paint under an assumed name so that early inferior works would not be attached to them. He took the name Eric from the middle letters of America and Sloane from his mentor's name.
In the summer of 1925, Sloane ran away from home, working his way across the country as a sign painter, creating advertisements for everything from Red Man Tobacco to Bull Durham. Unique hand calligraphy and lettering became a characteristic of his illustrated books.
Sloane eventually returned to New York and settled in Connecticut, where he began painting rustic landscapes in the tradition of the Hudson River School. In the 1950s, he began spending part of the year in Taos, New Mexico, where he painted western landscapes and particularly luminous depictions of the desert sky. In his career as a painter, he produced over 15,000 works. His fascination with the sky and weather led to commissions to paint works for the U.S. Air Force and the production of a number of illustrated works on meteorology and weather forecasting. Sloane is even credited with creating the first televised weather reporting network, by arranging for local farmers to call in reports to a New England broadcasting station.
Sloane also had a great interest in New England folk culture, Colonial daily life, and Americana. He wrote and illustrated scores of Colonial era books on tools, architecture, farming techniques, folklore, and rural wisdom. Every book included detailed illustrations, hand lettered titles, and his characteristic folksy wit and observations. He developed an impressive collection of historic tools which became the nucleus of the collection in the Sloane-Stanley Tool Museum in Kent, Connecticut.
Sloane died in New York in 1985, while walking down the street to a luncheon held in his honor.
Sloane's best known books are A Reverence for Wood, which examines the history and tools of woodworking, as well as the philosophy of the woodworker; The Cracker Barrel, which is a compendium of folk wit and wisdom; and Diary of an Early American Boy: Noah Blake-1805, based on a diary he discovered at a local library book sale. His most famous painted work is probably the skyscape mural, Earth Flight Environment, which is still on display in the Independence Avenue Lobby in the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum.
My main complaint about this book is that was so entertaining to read that I swoshed through it very quickly. Since I come from a farming background, the reminders of how people once accomplished daily tasks (in the "do" section), and the reminders of what was once proper behavior (in the "don't" section) were a sweet step into my childhood.
For some, the "don't" section may seem only quaint, but if you are planning a trip to the UK, you may still find some of the tips on how to speak relevant. More important than some of the details, is the overall picture it paints of thinking about how your actions impact those around you, a lesson which is too often lost in this world where we connect more frequently with our technology than directly with one another.
The part of me which wonders what will happen should our technological web ever experience a massive failure, especially appreciated the "do" section, which is full of tips on how to feed and shelter yourself and your family with limited access to tools and no access to electricity. This book would be extremely useful to have under those circumstances, and entertaining to have in any circumstances.
And most charming of all are Mr. Sloane's illustrations, which show his wry, sharp, and and yet somehow forgiving sense of our human frailties. It's a pity he has passed on, he would have been an extraordinary person to sit and chat with on a back porch some summer evening, as the fireflies began to appear. I'll be his cider was mighty tasty, too.
There is no doubt about it, doing things by and for ourselves has become a lost art, and the joy of doing things not just "the old-fashioned way" but plainly the right way is a nearly vanished satisfaction.
Sloane presents a "little book of early American know-how" that might just provide some answers to some of today's problems and minor disasters. Here are solutions for curing hiccups, keeping onions from sprouting, predicting the weather, and drawing perfect ovals. There's also a recipe for mead in case, I don't know . . . Thor decides to drop by.
The real fun begins when we get to the Don't section of the book.
Though many of these cautions seem hopelessly antiquated:
Don't fail at dinner to rise when the ladies leave the table, and remain standing until they have left the room. Then reseat yourself if you intend to remain for cigars.
And:
There are men who sit at a table in their shirt-sleeves; this is very vulgar.
There is some good advice that we'd do well to heed in these days of rampant incivility:
Don't contradict. Difference of opinion is no cause of offense, but downright contradiction is a violation of one of the canons of good society.
Then there's this reminder, in the Don'ts For Womankind section that I found to be very interesting:
Don't give yourself extensively to the reading of novels. An excess of this kind of reading is the great vice of womankind. Good novels are good things, but how can women hope to occupy an equal place with men if their intellectual life is given to one branch of literature solely?
Yeah.
It's reading novels that's holding us back . . . right, ladies?
I found this book refreshing as I did another Eric Sloane book about old America. There were many things I wanted to try after I read them in the Do part, such as some of the desserts, some of the cleaners, and reflecting on the weather knowledge and other various things you can't find anymore, like old ways of making paint, dealing with insects, etc. The Don't part was mostly manners and gave me a lot of insight into why Americans behave the way they do (or at least up until the Boomer era). It's because people must have read Farmer's Almanacs and actually paid attention and tried to live according to the advice they read. Much of our politeness and efforts to not be annoying to each other perhaps came from this, also with how Americans spoke and tried to guard the dignity of the language. There used to be a proper attempt at becoming a gentleman. Today you never hear of being gentlemanly, even with the so-called Trad types that swarm social media.
My favorite line: "Don't sit cross-legged. Pretty nearly everybody of the male sex does, but nevertheless don't you do it." I had to laugh.
This is a pleasant collection of manners and common practices from the seventeen and eighteen-hundreds. It is well illustrated, but doesn't have as many pictures as his other books. It is a good addition for elementary-age history lessons.