Tree stories: How trees plant our world and connect our lives by Stefano Mancuso, 2023. Profile Books.

Although Tree stories by Stefano Mancuso [which book is here appraised] is a relatively slim volume of 205 pages, it’s full of very engaging story telling. However, maybe a little more information will be of use? If so, please read on…
Something about style
We’re probably used to hearing about Italian style when it comes to motor cars (Paolo Belladore), and clothing. Well, in Mancuso’s case it also extends to literature: Trees stories is extremely well-written. With its science-based narrative, this is very good scicomm [science communication] (apart from insufficiency of sources [see Sources, Noted – but not always(!) section below]). Blended with the author’s personal anecdotes and insights it’s also an engaging and relatively undemanding read. Whilst I got the impression that the chapters were a little longer than they really need to be, any shorter and we’d lose a lot of Mancuso’s lovely writing. On balance, chapter length is about right.
There is a clear theme in the chapters’ titles – which, in book order, are: Planting liberty; Planting cities; Planting the underground; Planting music; Planting time; Planting knowledge; Planting law and order; and Planting the moon. For me, the clear idea that was being planted in each of those chapters was the notion that plants – specifically trees in this instance – have very strong relationships to people and human societies, and vice versa. This is most definitely a plants-and-people book.
Each chapter is a beautifully-crafted essay, complete in itself. Because of the way various topics are brought into each chapter, and deftly woven together to inform the particular story, I found these essays reminiscent of the ‘connections’ pieces penned by James Burke (of Tomorrow’s World fame (Tony Padman)) for Scientific American, and his TV series of the same name.
Tree stories is illustrated – at the start of each chapter, in black-and-white. Whilst each illustration has a caption, there’s no indication of who the artist is – should we assume it is Mancuso himself?
Not necessarily related to style, but it had to be mentioned somewhere; Tree stories has NO index, which is a shame because there are so many facts that one would like to be able to find to use in one’s own work.
Prologue and Chapter summaries
The Prologue explains how the book ‘came to be’. Recognising that plant stories are everywhere*, Mancuso just listened to the plants’ own stories and told them. The result of that person-plant collaboration is Tree stories. However, although Mancuso also reminds us that plant stories are intertwined with human experience, he doesn’t explicitly tell us why it’s stories about trees – rather than any other type of plant – that are showcased in the book.
Chap. 1 starts with a meeting between Mancuso and another bibliophile, and features a 18th Century book about liberty trees (donaldrbernie), planted in France during the years of the revolution. From there we have the tale of a 19th Century book and a map of fraternity trees [also known as liberty trees (Erin Blakemore), which two terms are apparently interchangeable per Mancuso (p. 27)], and links between the USA and Europe. It reads like a detective story – which it is. Amongst the arboreal bibliotechnical detective work, Mancuso posits the notion of forests as superorganisms.
Chap. 2 introduces us to Patrick Geddes and his work on the ‘ecology of cities’ (Daniel Christian Wahl). And, maybe not too surprisingly, Mancuso advises us that a city has a physiology and metabolism all its own, and essential to maintaining all of this is … plants, trees in particular. In that regard he mentions the Treepedia program, which measures % of urban surface area covered by ‘arboreal vegetation’ [trees essentially], and the city with the highest per centage is named. We are also reminded that over 350 years ago that notable 17th Century dendrophile John Evelyn (ES de Beer, R. Soc. Lond.15: 231–238, 1960; http://doi.org/10.1098/rsnr.1960.0022; Gillian Darley) published his idea that plants could improve air quality. Here there’s more than a nod in the direction of Mancuso’s The nation of plants book – plants can help us, if we let them, e.g. revegetating our cities could stave off global warming.
Chap. 3 looks below the soil surface and talks of root grafts – on the same species, and between different species. Starting with mention of Henri Dutrochet – who discovered osmosis – it then considers the mysteries of ‘living stumps’ of trees (JoAnna Klein; Kelly Mayes; MK-F Bader & S Leuzinger, iScience 19: 1238–1243, 2019; https://doi.org/10.1016/j.isci.2019.05.009). Mancuso considers the notion of trees as “Not single trees but rather enormous connected communities, which via their root systems are able to exchange nutrients, water, and information” (p. 76). In delving into the underworld of trees, and quite noticeably, Mancuso makes no mention of the wood-wide web (Shiella Olimpos; Tara Yarlagadda), or CMNs [common mycorrhizal networks – Christopher Rhoades (Science Progress 100(3): 331 – 337, 2017; https://doi.org/10.3184/003685017X14968299580423%5D), or ‘mother trees’ (Zayna Syed)]. He doesn’t even mention fungi and mycorrhiza (Sue Fisher; Angela O’Callaghan). Is this just an oversight? Or a sensible omission given the re-evaluation we are beginning to see in respect of interpretations of work on fungal-connected subterranean networks (e.g. Melanie Jones et al.)**?
An important point that Mancuso makes here concerns ideas developed from animal behaviour, etc., which are considered to apply generally, e.g. to plants. Which contrasts markedly with observations from plant work that are not considered important unless they’ve been replicated in the animal kingdom. Although he lays it on a bit thick, this appears to be a valid comment, and emphasises the zoocentric and zoochauvinistic view of life humans appear to have, Sadly, plant blindness (Christine Ro) is alive and well amongst those involved in biological research and who should know so much better(!).
Chap. 4 begins with an arresting ‘statistic’ about wind damage to trees in European forests and moves on to quite rhapsodic prose about the quality of violins, violas, and violincellos produced by the renowned instrument-makers of the school of Cremona (Pedro Silva) – which includes Antonio Stradivari – from the wood of trees.
Chap. 5 deals with dendrochronology, and “It is a fantastic adventure that ties together tree rings, sunspots, and archaeological dating of the earliest human civilizations. Botanists, Nobel Prize winners, astronomers, archaeologists, visionaries, and adventurers are the unlikely leading players in this saga, initiated by a colossal mistake, concluded with one of the greatest successes of modern science” (p. 105). I couldn’t summarise the chapter better myself, so I won’t try – and don’t now need to.
Chap. 6 has its focus on bananas – especially their skins/peels. Although based around a long anecdote about Mancuso’s time in Japan, it begins with quotes from Charles Dickens’ time in New York, about pigs. It goes on to mention the Ig Nobel awards, radioactive bananas, the friction coefficient of banana skins, a song by 1960s singer-songwriter Donovan (Tom Taylor), and the legend of hallucinogenic banana. But, it wasn’t clear to me why banana was included in a book of stories about trees because the banana plant is not a tree (see here, Mikael Angelo Francisco, Himani Saklani, Andrew Mach & Carey Reed). However, Mancuso clearly considers the plant to be a tree – “I’m talking about the fruit, not the tree that produces it” (p. 132). Although botanically inaccurate, maybe that’s justification enough? Hmmm, maybe, although it does nothing to improve the readers’ botanical literacy.
Chap. 7 takes a darker turn in considering the forensic botanical potential of trees and tree products. In particular, Mancuso discusses the role of evidence from the palo verde tree in the Arizona desert murder of Denise Johnson, and the wooden ladder that was pivotal to securing a conviction in the infamous kidnapping and death of the infant son of Charles Lindbergh.
Chap. 8 concerns ‘moon trees’ – trees that grew from seeds that accompanied the astronauts on the Apollo 14 mission. It’s a rather fitting end to the book since it brings the tree stories full circle to the liberty trees that were the subject of the first chapter because, in their own way, the moon trees are a celebration of humanity achieving some sort of liberty – however fleeting to date – from an Earth-bound existence. Satisfyingly circular, closed, and complete.
Sources, Noted – but not always(!)
The Prologue and all chapters except the last have in-text super-scripted numbers, which relate to sources or further information in the approx. 8 pages of Notes at the back of the book. The sources stated include books, journal articles, and on-line resources. But, there are several Notes that are unsourced. For example, Note 4 from Chap. 4 (p. 198) which defines low earth [sic.] orbit, and Note 3 from Chap. 4 (p. 201) on the etymology of the genus name Picea. There are therefore some deficiencies in the usefulness of the Notes section, and consequently the evidence base for the text.
Which noteworthy issue is compounded by several mentions in-text of factual statements that don’t have associated notes to tell the reader where they’ve come from, e.g. Chap. 2 (p. 45) where it states that koalas only feed on eucalyptus leaves; the numbers for human population growth (p. 47); stating that “there are hundreds of publications that describe the phenomenon” [the advantages for a community of trees in remaining connected through root grafting] (p. 83), but without citing any of those publications [it’s poor practice to make such sweeping statements and expect readers just to accept the word of the author]; and the statement that banana is “the fourth-ranking staple in the world, behind rice, wheat, and corn” (p. 138). Sources, please.
Perhaps the most serious example of an unsourced statement is Mancus’s assertion that there is consensus among scientists that global warming is a fact (p. 58). No source is provided for that statement. Merely stating “I repeat, there is no doubt about this” (p. 58) will not be enough to convince a sceptic. For this sort or argument to hold any sway source(s) must be shown. A similar example is on p. 2 of the Prologue where Mancuso expounds, “This is an indisputable fact. How could it be otherwise? We animals are only 0.3 percent of our planet’s biomass, while plants are 85 percent”. Whilst I applaud his passion, such bold, but unsourced, stark statements can only invite the ‘indisputable fact’ to be disputed.
And, rather oddly and somewhat inconsistently, no sources are stated for any of the information presented in Chapter 8 Planting the moon, e.g. the statement that “Plants were the first living beings to travel in outer space” (p. 186); and evidence for the identity of the trees whose seeds were taken on board Apollo 14 (p. 192). Although the tale of ‘moon trees’ is a great story, devoid of any indication(s) of sources – that can be independently verified – it’s arguably nothing more than hearsay. Please declare your sources.
That’s my main criticism of Mancuso’s book, but it’s a serious one.
Praise for the translator
Although Mancuso is the author of Tree stories, we should also recognise – and applaud – the language skills of Gregory Conti in translating Mancuso’s original Italian text into English. Yet again, Conti has done an excellent job – as he previously did for Mancuso’s The Incredible Journey of Plants, and The nation of plants .
If you like this, you’ll like these
Tree stories is the third of Mancuso’s popular plant science books that I’ve read. If you find Tree stories engaging, may I suggest you also try The nation of plants, and/or The incredible journey of plants?
Summary
Tree stories by Stefano Mancuso is a highly-readable, very enjoyable, and much welcomed addition to the plants-and-people literature. If it’s not too early to think about Christmas presents, may I suggest this book would be an ideal present for a plant lover?
* Mancuso acknowledges that this idea is inspired by English composer Sir Edward Elgar’s notion that music is everywhere, and you simply take as much as you require. So, too, with stories from – and of – plants. Interestingly, this Elgaresque allusion was also used by one Mr P Cuttings in 2016 in citing inspiration for his Plant Cuttings items…
** Interestingly, considering that the book’s cover describes Mancuso as “a leading authority in plant neurobiology”, and some of his previous books – The revolutionary genius of plants: A new understanding of plant intelligence and behaviour, and Brilliant green: The surprising history and science of plant intelligence – are devoted to this topic, Mancuso doesn’t appear to make any real mention of ‘plant intelligence’ in Tree stories. However, since, unsurprisingly, the notion of plant intelligence is controversial [e.g. Denyse O’Leary], its omission might be intentional, to avoid controversy clouding the otherwise factual and uncontroversial tree tales.
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