I have just finished reading The Tree by John Fowles (writer of the Magus and French Lieutenants Daughter and one of my favourite writers). It was a splendid little book. It encapsulated his feeling of oneness with nature and trees – the wild – something that cannot be captured by science or art but that is a state of being.
While reading it I was particularly struck by one paragraph that resonated with me and would like to share it with you.
‘There is a spiritual corollary to the way we are currently deforesting and denaturing our planet. In the end what we must most defoliate and deprive is ourselves. We might as soon start collecting up the world’s poetry, ever line and every copy, to burn it in a final pyre; and think we should lead richer and happier lives thereafter.’
That sums up the grief and anguish I feel inside at the constant cruelty and destruction we are wreaking around the world. Each tree and creature is a poem in my world – a poem lost forever – and one that makes me all the poorer.
Beautiful comments, Opher.
Thank you Cheryl. I know they resonate with you too.
Reblogged this on Opher's World and commented:
John Fowles – what a writer.
I love that paragraph!
It’s a great little book but that stood out for me. It seemed to sum it up so well.
Yeah it does sum it up perfectly!
Thanks, Opher. I will have to find that book, even though I’m sure it will make me cry. Thank you for bringing attention to trees.
I think trees are so philosophical Mary.
I loved that paragraph – but I loved your interpretation even better… each tree is a poem… I don’t think I’ll ever look at a tree the way I have in the past again.
Praise indeed John. I’m glad it resonated.