“The Overstory” is a Planetary Call-to-Arms
By Zach Tomci
Imagine an organism billions of years old, constantly changing yet performing the same essential function throughout time. It is outside your window, lying under the cracks of sidewalks and producing the air you breathe in this moment. Through the lens of Richard Powers’s twelfth novel, 2019’s Pulitzer Prize-winning “The Overstory,” we are challenged to see the natural world in this mystical and reverent way. His story is immediately accessible and relevant, though it spans generations and takes place mostly in the 20th century. It is a story undeniably human; it is a story about us. More accurately, it is a story about the dual existence of humanity alongside the natural world, which Powers argues is just as complex and divine as the gift of human life.
Powers takes his time setting up the players of the book in the first one hundred and twenty pages. These short vignettes at first seem unrelated, but they form the roots of the novel’s plot. The book opens with these brief snapshots of humans at different points in life and with vastly different conflicts. Interweaving each of these tales, though, are trees. Each character, in either minor or major ways, develops a relationship with nature that defines their place in the book. The writing is deliciously matter-of-fact, and it is obvious that after twelve novels Powers has mastered the art of fiction as chapter after chapter introduces a new setting, time, and cast. This mixed form of narrative—exposition in the guise of short story—is fresh but also taxing on the reader’s patience. The reader must trust that there is purpose to these unrelated chapters, and by the time the last one arrives, the reader can sense a shift coming.
The true plot of the novel unfolds after each of the characters are introduced, and it is only through their distinct yet shared experiences that the core protagonist is revealed. Trees are the impetus of everything that drives the story forward for the remaining four hundred pages, which swiftly transition from disparate tales of human conflict into interlocking quests for ecological harmony. As the characters’ lives intertwine in both small and large ways, driving them to commit acts of terror, acts of kindness and acts of sacrifice, a larger story begins to appear. Trees linger between the lines of every page. Trees plant the seed for every upheaval, discourse and turn of event that propels the plot forward in unforeseeable ways. There is a tenderness alive within the pages of this book that one cannot help but tune into. Reading “The Overstory” is like waking up from a coma and slowly remembering things you had forgotten. There’s a return to consciousness that runs parallel with the awakening of the characters, so it feels less like a story being told and more like a lesson being relearned.
It is unlikely to walk away from “The Overstory” without feeling changed in some way. The scope of the story is deceptively large because it distracts with the minutiae of human life. But the core of the tale is a planetary call-to-arms to protect trees everywhere. There is no single plot line or archetype at play. Rather, the story is a culmination of smaller stories that collect to form a much larger story. In utilizing the different points of view, Powers deconstructs gender and nationality—while paying respect and insight to both—and forces readers to view humanity as one organism. Like his characters, who range from intellectual property lawyer to engineer to video game entrepreneur, Powers has found a way to combat humanity’s neglect of the planet. His words cut like a knife and inspire, if not urge, policy and activism. Published in 2018, it seems that this book will only grow in importance with each passing year. We live in a time where burning forests are as commonplace as iPhone updates, and humanity is facing a shrinking window to undo centuries of ecological abuse. Richard Powers’s “The Overstory” may be just the book to spur this. It is more than a gripping tale of love, courage, and humanity. It is a plea to look up from the written word, take a deep breath, and remember.
Zach Tomci is a graduating senior at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette with a passion for both art and writing. He hopes to be an author one day among the ranks of some of his favorite writers, like Anne Rice and Haruki Murakami. In the meantime, you can find him teaching English in Asia in 2020, where he hopes to gain valuable life experiences outside of his comfort zone. Lastly, he believes reading holds the power to heal, inspire, and effect real change in the world. He can’t wait for the chance to make his mark.
