A multiplicity of ways of looking at trees.
Moor, the author of On Trails (2016), was inspired to write this arboreal meditation after his husband, Remi, suffered a stroke. Seeing an image of neurons took the author to unexpected branches of thought about the variegated shades of meaning, concrete and metaphorical, behind the idea of a “tree.” American by birth, Moor and his husband (who returned to health), live in British Columbia, where forest fires have complicated the benign associations that Moor had of trees going back to a childhood spent climbing them and reading stories extolling their benevolence. Moor ruminates on these memories and on his prodigious reading as he travels to the Lake District in England, the redwood forests of California, the workshops of bonsai artists in Japan, the rainforests of Tanzania, and spots closer to home to explore with local experts the human (and hominid) relationships, dark and light, with these mysterious, ancient life forms. On one journey across the American South with recently discovered cousins of his family tree branching off from the probable rape of an enslaved matriarch, Moor reckons with the use of trees as the sites of thousands of lynchings during Jim Crow. In a Papuan forest, his childhood illusions about the idyllic-seeming treehouses of Korowai hunter-gatherers collide with the reality that global capitalism has turned their culture into a theme park for ecotourists. Moor writes, “there is something, which, in our tendency to focus solely on the sunny side of arborescence, we too often overlook: A tree is a way of persisting in a world of wounds....it seems incredible that trees have managed to survive at all. And yet, certain old trees have remained standing for millennia, while empires crest and crash in their shade.”
Brilliantly written, supremely intelligent, and philosophically provocative.