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" These
yew trees are the oldest living things in the country. They wish it
were not so. They would like to slide away, as can the ash and the
oak and the elder. But human memory is brief, stupid, unconnected.
Men have not yet learned to live side by side like the trees of the
forest. So when the white winter dawn comes once more, and the
solstice is over, the yews sigh and stretch and settle back into
their ancient selves for one more year. For the length of an age.
"
Reviewed by James Murray-White
There
are some real gems in this collection. Each of the 19 authors has
been given the brief to write to or about a specific tree. It may not
be their favourite tree – they are given the chance to name these
in their bio, which appears at the back; but all of them picked up
the brief with relish and have produced soulful stories that display
a deep love for trees and woodlands. Indeed it seems that many of the
writers herein are hewn from bark and sap themselves, such is the
depth of communion. Salley Vickers in Why Willows
Weep, for example, writes beautifully of the influence
trees have on humans, though there is a heavy sadness imbued in the
story due to the sheer depth of human folly, not only against trees,
but to ourselves, and other creatures, hence the final line: "but
the willow tree that lost its magic can only bend its head and weep."
Phillipa
Gregory's Holly is probably the saddest in the entire
book, using the holly as a metaphor for domination and suffocation of
a woman's spirit, delivered in the first person. It is writ through
with sorrowfulness but some sexiness too, and does come up for some
cathartic air by its conclusion.
The
theme of man/womankind's dominion over all the earth is a common
thread through most of the stories, and I'm struck by how
fable-like many of them are. Its interesting how ‘big picture',
encompassing thousands of years of human and non-human history and
right back to creation itself, the overwhelming sense of the book is.
Susan
Elderkin's contribution, This One (or
how the blackthorn got
its flowers) is full of soul and
verse, and emphasizes the value of community, amongst the trees
themselves, but also in the challenging relationship with humans:
The blackthorn got to experience the downside of being loved, of
one limb being brutally severed from another, the slow agony of
dehydration; but it was worth it.
Writers Richard Mabey, who is much admired for his nature
writing, and William Fiennes both tackle head-on the use of trees to us as practical
objects that have advanced human design and technological
manufacture. Fiennes, whose beautiful non-fiction book The
Snow Geese is a true marvel of writing about
the natural world, notably captures this beautifully in poetic form
within his story Why the Ash
Has Black Buds:
Trees
often wondered what their particular fate might be. Would they
subside into the long sleep of coal….or find themselves
reconfigured as handle, hurdle, post, shaft, joist, beam – or
something more elaborate and rare? He brings the story back round
to pens and ink, and makes a clear point about how every thing
expresses itself, in some way.
His
story is a perfect opener for this rich range of points of view. They
are interleaved with leaf illustrations from artist Leanne Shapton,
which beautifully provide a pause and space for reflection with bold
colours that range from vivacious to really dour and dank. The most
down-to-earth story, blending irony and the slight irritation
relationships sometimes bring, particularly when driving with one's
beloved in the middle of nowhere and recurring patterns of dialogue
come up, is Ali Smith's Scot's Pine
(a valediction forbidding
mourning). There is a lovely tale-telling here,
blending straight fact, supposed fiction, and the ever-present
supposition of life we humans are so good at. I feel this quote from
it tells it wonderfully (read it with a Scottish accent if you can):
Standing so mournful, and apart, and dour, and elegiac. Scottish
to its roots. Why
Willows Weep has been put together to raise
much-needed funds for The Woodland Trust. These are cash-strapped
times, but every copy of this book will enable the planting of five
native trees.
I
read part of this book while up an old oak tree in the glorious
Wiltshire countryside: a real pleasure and communion with wood and
word. What more could we want? Buy a copy and delve deep of the
woods.
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James Murray-White is a
writer and filmmaker, who likes nothing more than being in woodland.
His youth was spent climbing trees. Now slightly older, he admires
them from the ground up.
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Editor Tracy Chevalier has written six novels, including the bestselling Girl with a Pearl Earring.
Authors William Fiennes, James Robertson, Richard Mabey. Tracy Chevalier, Susan Elderkin, Rachel Billington, Blake Morrison
, Maria McCann, Terence Blacker, Joanne Harris, Philippa Gregory,
Catherine O'Flynn, Tahmima Anam, Maggie O'Farrell, Amanda Craig, Ali Smith, Philip Hensher, Salley Vickers, Kate Mosse
Read
an interview
with Tracy Chevalier
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