The first words
that I read after turning the last page of “The Overstory” by Richard Powers
appear in the 1954 Dell Laurel paperback edition (95 cents!) of “Six Great
Modern Short Novels,” the preface to “The Bear” by William Faulkner, most of
which contains remarks to honor the winning of the Nobel Prize for Literature
in 1949, to wit:
“It is [the writer’s]
privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding [her] of the
courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which
have been the glory of [her] past.”
What’s more, “This
award is only mine in trust.”
“Our tragedy today
is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can
even bear it. There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only the
question: when will I be blown up.”
“Because of this
the young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human
heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only
that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat.”
This is what “The
Overstory” aspires to and succeeds in doing: realize the promise of Faulkner’s
call for humility in service to the human spirit.
What “The
Overstory” does 67 years after Faulkner penned these words is, through agony
and sweat, lift our hearts [and I
daresay minds] during the interregnum of our annihilation.
Next: Running for Your Life: Tree Gait
