Praise for The Island of Missing Trees was plentiful in this month's sessions, with a large majority of readers claiming to have fallen in love, quite unexpectedly, with a Fig Tree. Though most readers were a bit taken aback by the unusual narrator to begin with, they quickly warmed to her voice and her wealth of knowledge.
There were, however, a few readers who simply could not get past the talking tree. Though some pushed through and managed to get to the end, despite not liking the book at all, others gave up and put this book in the 'did not finish' pile. There were a few readers who thought it focused too much on the ‘hot’ topics of the day - migrants, trauma, mental health, the environment, and our careless treatment of it– and not enough on the heart and soul of the characters.
For most readers, however, this was a story that had everything they could ask for in a novel. They felt that the use of the tree as narrator was a clever way to impart knowledge about the natural world, and a way to give the reader a full picture of the story as it unfolded. The fact that the tree is neither Greek nor Turkish, (indeed, not even human), made it a truly bi-partisan observer.
Several readers mentioned that they now have a new appreciation of trees, and spoke about how much they loved reading about the natural world and the interconnection between plants and animals. A few even felt guilty pruning trees and bushes in their gardens after reading the book. Everyone agreed that the book made them think deeply about the parallels between humans and the plants and animals we live side by side with. A plant’s ability to sense encroaching dangers and to change their growth habits accordingly reminded us of our own tendency to protect ourselves by turning inward or shutting down when we are threatened physically or emotionally. The comparison led to a discussion of our various reactions to trauma. Often our worst habits, compulsions and avoidances are simply protective responses that keep the pain of being human at bay, but which ultimately make things worse.
We loved the analogy of families being like trees with entangled roots and individual branches jutting out at awkward angles and of family traumas being like the resin that drips from cuts in the bark, trickling down generations and settling and coagulating in cracks. The visual image of trauma flowing past some cracks and settling in others was a graphic illustration of the fact that some family members seem deeply affected by generational traumas while others remain unmarked by it.
On a more hopeful note, we were grateful to learn that resilience could also be passed on and that descendants of trees scorched in bushfires developed ways to withstand future blazes. Some readers had examples of families who had been through hard times and who produced many members who were made of tough stuff.
The efforts Kostas made to keep his fig tree alive in an unfamiliar and unsuitable habitat made us think of the extra protection and support migrants need to settle in a new environment. Most of us had never heard of burying a fig tree and were fascinated by the process. We loved how the author drew parallels between the burying and unburying of the tree, and the burying of secrets, and the unburying of bones. We talked about the difficulties of uprooting yourself and planting a new life in a different culture, about how the first generation struggle with the loss of leaving everything behind and the second generation take on the trauma. The tree itself took on its own migration.
A few readers knew about the history of Cyprus but for most of us this part of the book was very illuminating. Many found it hard to relate to the hatred that existed between the Greeks and the Turks and that people who were once friendly neighbours could never be spoken to again. That Defne’s mother would cut off her own daughter and threaten another one with the same fate if she ever saw her sister was unimaginable to us. We concluded that we were very lucky to live in a country that had not ever been torn apart by civil war but understood that first nations people might feel similar unresolved trauma to the Greeks and Turks.
Most readers loved Yusuf and Yiorgos and wished we had heard more of their story – how they had met and how they had overcome the prejudice to become lovers. Their murder was shocking, and some readers were moved to tears, however others felt somewhat removed from it because we knew so little about them as characters. We all wanted to visit the tavern and sample the delicious food in the beautiful environment they had created.
All in all, most groups loved the book finding it educational and thought provoking.
We look forward to next month’s sessions.
Happy Reading!
Britt, Laura, Vicky & The Riverbend Team