The Overstory

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.