The Overstory

I loved this for the first hundred pages, but the rest was a bit of a slog. And I have some issues with the way things wrapped up.

Philosophically, I absolutely resonate with the messages in this book: human progress is killing us all and the world in which we live. But:

To have Neelay's plot end with the shining hope of machine learning being humanity's way of understanding our world is boring at best, and downright irresponsible at worst. Silicon Valley and its techno-fascism is one of the most destructive forces in our world. It is not the way to a better future.

And to have some Magical Native Americans appear in the last few pages to help some white dude with his art project is eye-rollingly exploitative, especially after reading an entire book about coexisting with nature that never mentions the indigenous people who better understood and lived that existence before their genocide began centuries ago.

Also! There was a hint that Neelay might be queer, and Mimi was theoretically too, I guess, but these tiny bits of representation in an otherwise very white, straight book felt cheap.

I feel gently NLP'ed into supporting ecoterrorism having read this.

Really pretty. Light on plot. Became somewhat overbearing by the end.

The Overstory's theme of nature and its ubiquity in a seemingly omnipotent way is present in every possible way. In structure, the novel has not one main protagonist but many characters developing and branching out with leafing connections. In timeline, the story of generations is told, not the story of a single day or month or year or decade – a timeline significant even to that of the oldest chestnut. In tone, with the trials and tribulations although heart-wrenching at points, coldly relayed as if from the perspective of a stoic oak. In title, as an understory is the layer of vegetation on the forest floor. And of course, in content, in prose with diction that somehow ethereally wraps around your brain and simultaneously leaves you with a clear image. The novel poses interesting questions crossing borders between morality and objectivity, between environment and Earth, and between life and sentience, not unlike [b:The Monkey Wrench Gang 99208 The Monkey Wrench Gang (Monkey Wrench Gang, #1) Edward Abbey https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1349067863l/99208.SY75.jpg 2803318]. In The Overstory, Powers has achieved, not humanizing trees (a task previously accomplished by Dr. Seuss) but making the reader empathize with “tree-ified” people.

My grandpa loved trees. He cared for many during his lifetime. He planted trees for his children and grandchildren when they were born. He saved quotes about trees - jotted on note cards and stashed inside books, to be found years later. As I read this book, I couldn't help but think how much he would have loved it.

The Overstory begins with a cast of characters that seem to have no connection, and proceeds to weave them together in a fascinating and beautiful canopy. We know that people are connected in ways we don't always understand. Apparently, so are trees - and the tragedy of the loss of these magnificent creatures is only beginning to be understood. This book becomes a thing much greater than the sum of its parts - a masterpiece.

I tried. I really tried. The first vignette about the Hoels was well-done and I thought I was in for a truly lovely book. And each successive story got worse and worse. I just found myself not caring. Once the character's stories started interweaving, it got worse and I could not finish.

Here are discussion question from the PBS News Hour Book Club.


https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.pbs.org/newshour/amp/arts/discussion-questions-for-the-overstory

This is a fascinating book with agenda: we're fucking up the planet in the name of “progress.” Furthermore, the people who try to do something about it are persecuted (and prosecuted). It's hard to disagree with that, unless you assume, as some do, that destruction of the environment is inevitable and that human invention will give us ways to cope (although the book suggests we're not capable of dealing with the catastrophe we're creating.

Having said that, the book is confusing, with loads of characters that are, at first, hard to distinguish. The first third of the book is made up of separate narratives as each character or set of characters is introduced. Only a third of the way in do they begin to intersect, although even from the beginning the tree theme connects. Lots to think about.

I loved it - layered and powerful with philosophy, botany, stories, cultures. Most of my book club didn't like it. Oh well.

What is propaganda? I'd define propaganda as the dispersal of information that lacks objectivity in order to push an agenda. Modern society adds a negative connotation to the word: propaganda is the work of a sinister force—but this isn't the case. One can place the propaganda label on something they themselves support. The Overstory is propaganda, and though I love trees and agree with many of the sentiments expressed in this novel, such blatant eco-grandstanding has no place in my fiction.

As a novel, The Overstory is most impressive at the beginning. It is then when the stories are disparate, and yes, this means it feels more like a collection of short stories, but they were really good short stories. When I think back on this 500-page behemoth, it is these stories that I easily recall. These stories show a pivotal moment in each character's life, many at a young age, a moment that is genuine and often heart-wrenching. It is within these first hundred pages that I see Richard Powers' strengths as a writer. Here is where the seeds of a good story are planted. However, the story grows, and once the various threads begin to interact with one another, not only does the plot become tiresome, but the heavy-handedness of the theme weighs the story down. It becomes exaggeratedly sentimental. There are no strong opposing forces amongst our main characters. Everyone is willing to give their life for their friends shrouded in bark. There are no counter arguments worth any weight whatsoever. And that's called propaganda. The intentions are good, but the orchestration reeks of a not-so-hidden agenda.

It's all just a bit too much. No, it's more than a bit. It's overwrought. If The Overstory had ended as a collection of interconnected short stories, it would've been more delightful, conveyed its message more clearly, and saved a whole lot of trees in the process.

This was my Award Winning Book (2019 Pulitzer Prize Fiction) to read for May and it took me 20 days. If you like to read about trees and how their existence intertwines with our own lives and future of mankind then this is the book for you. Nine characters are involved in the story line and tells how trees affected their lives. Read this for the story and education of what this planet is losing!
DN

I absolutely loved the first section of this book. It was a little harder to get through the middle section and don't really know how the author could have better wound the stories together. Overall, very well written, very purposeful and absolutely worth reading but not a quick read.

Compelling characters, beautifully written story, and fascinating science behind forests. Heartbreaking and very motivating.

Wanted to enjoy it more. I loved the premise, i loved the careful build up and structure, the writing was excellent however by the end I felt slightly “over-flogged” with the “message.” Also it really was quite annoying to have some of the threads just go nowhere within the main narrative.

This complex novel is structured like a tree. The section headings tell you that as soon as you look at the table of contents. In the opening section, Roots, you're introduced to a group of characters from several different walks of life who are all drawn (Close Encounters style) to the West Coast, where a fight is underway to save ancient stands of redwood and Douglas fir trees. Some of them meet in activism while others seem to be on the periphery of the story. However, they are all struggling in one way or another with prevailing attitudes about the importance of trees in the world.

Following sections, Trunk, Crown, and Seeds deal with the characters' activism, a cataclysmic event, and the results years later. I don't want to give too much away.

The characters are all fascinating and it's easy to get caught up in following them and feeling their feelings. On another level, though, the human characters are not the most important part of the story. This book reminded me of a non fiction book I read called Stone: an Ecology of the Inhuman, by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. Cohen portrays stone, a seemingly inert substance, as active, dancing, even collaborating with people, but in a time frame that we have trouble appreciating. So it seemed to be in The Overstory. It is hard for humans to appreciate the close connection between themselves and trees when trees move at such a comparatively slow rate (and can live for so much longer than humans, which makes them look even more like mere material). The book asks us to step back from our human perspective and look at life on earth from a more expansive place—from the perspective of tree time, or even geologic time.

So, there is a definite story, a plot which is structured in a certain way, and which is engrossing, with interesting characters. There is a point, or a moral (don't read this book if you object to obvious points to the story). The two work together to make a rich, layered book that I found satisfying to read.

I shouldn't like this book. it's an extensive brain dump of information about forest intelligence, how trees in fact communicate with each other to warn of impending threats. How a vast underground network connect trees across thousands of kilometres creating a plant neurobiology. We have eco-warriors Watchman and Maidenhair, she a survivor of a near death electrocution that has left her with the ability to communicate with light beings that exhort her to save the trees! And to be honest it gets a little scattered nearing the end, juggling 9(!) different characters, some of whom I'm still a little unsure as to what they're supposed to represent, what story they're trying to tell.

But damn can Powers write about nature. I realize that my literary fiction diet is made up of cityscapes and suburbs. Characters that rarely look up from the concrete under their feet. Powers gets us outdoors and manages to evoke the wonder you felt staring at a massive redwood, or the spare jack pine on a rocky outcrop bending against the wind. It's a rare talent that can tread that line between deeply researched science and woo-woo nature gazing but Powers pulls it off with aplomb.

En helt fantastisk og en helt håpløs roman ulikt alt annet jeg har lest. Mer en fabel enn en fortelling, og jeg er langt fra sikker på at jeg har forstått noe som helst - annet enn at mennesket kanskje ikke er Gaias viktigste livsform.

When we started EcoLit Books five years ago, this was the type of book I had in mind.

A novel that places nature in its proper place in relation to people. That is, above us — in this case, both figuratively and literally.

In The Overstory, Richard Powers has crafted an epic novel that stretches hundreds of years, culminating in a series of life-and-death environmental battles. But even more so, this is a novel about rediscovering the largest and oldest living creatures on our planet.

So many of the characters are alien to the trees they share the planet with until various events open their eyes. And they look. They smell. They see and feel the loss. And they act up.

The book could be used to teach a course on trees. And it should be used for just that purpose. I have books about trees — mostly identification. But identifying a tree is only step one. How does a tree relate to the creatures around it? How does it respond to insect attacks? How does it care for its siblings? And other species of trees? For example, the Douglas Fir, which we live among here in Southern Oregon, are called “giving trees” because the dying trees will send out nutrients to the Ponderosa Pines. Powers does an outstanding job of providing insights into beings we have only just begun to understand.

But there are oversights in the novel in regards to activism. While the novel addresses environmental activism in Oregon and elsewhere, the players are too often seen eating meat without any awareness of the irony of defending one living entity while eating another. I know that many of those activists who have served actual time behind bars for similar crimes are vegan. They don't differentiate between protecting trees and protecting non-human animals. And it must be noted that millions upon millions of acres of forests have been cleared for the sole purpose of raising cows and sheep for human consumption.

In many ways I feel that this novel begins where Barkskins by Annie Proulx ends. And I highly recommend reading them in chronological order. And I'm not just talking about time but about awareness — our collective awareness that the planet is not some all-you-can-eat buffet, that the planet is, like us, finite and fragile. If you are not a “tree hugger” before reading these two books, you will be afterwards.

And I think what I like most about this book are the voices he gives those who have no (human) voice. Such as: All the ways you imagine us–bewitched mangroves up on stilts, a nutmeg's inverted spade, gnarled baja elephant trunks, the straight-up missile of a sal–are always amputations. Your kind never sees us whole. You miss the half of it, and more. There's always as much belowground as above.

Like the trees Powers writes so beautifully about, this book towers above us and nurtures us. And, I certainly do hope, it motivates us to do more. And quickly.

This review was first published on EcoLit Books: https://www.ecolitbooks.com.

I'm one-handed this week, so typing is a difficult, hunt-and-peck sort of adventure. But that's just an excuse thrown out there; the truth is that I'm one-brained and I'll never be anything more than one-brained, and that is reason I'll never be able to share with you the amazingness of Richard Powers and his incredible multi-brained, multi-dimensional novels. To read a Richard Powers novel is to leave this world forever (know this: you'll never be able to sit through another tedious sit-com, another banal lunchroom chitchat, without wishing you could transport to quietly reread a page, a paragraph of one of his books instead...it may destroy real life for you) for the beauty of words. I can do no more than sit, with my hands folded, in admiration of the rush of words and ideas in this novel, like I'm enrapt on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon at dawn.

So just ignore this review; I'm not worthy of reviewing this book,. I feel privileged to have read it. You read it. Anyone can, in the last remaining democracy, the democracy of the written word. Please read it, and think about it, and try to share it with others.

A few beautiful quotes:

“If he could read, if he could translate....If he were only a slightly different creature, then he might learn all about how the sun shone and the rain fell and which way the wind blew against this trunk for how hard and long. He might decode the vast projects that the soil organized, the murderous freezes, the suffering and struggle, shortfalls and surpluses, the attacks repelled, the years of luxury, the storms outlived, the sum of all the threats and chances that came from every direction, in every season this tree ever lived.”

“He pacing, filled with that stomach-flop feel that comes with leaping into the blue. Half terror, half thrill: Everything scattering on the air. We live, we get out a little, and then no more, forever. And we know what's coming—thanks to the fruit of the taboo tree that we were set up to eat. Why put it there, and then forbid it? Just to make sure it gets taken.”

And this warning:
“What you make from a tree should be at least as miraculous as what you cut down.”

Challenge accepted.