“The man who planted trees” (L’homme qui plantait des arbres) is a parable for our time – and it is a story that I have been thinking about more often recently.
Jean Giono wrote this short story in 1953: The shepherd Elzéard Bouffier lives in the barren, dry mountain region of Provence, where, as the title suggests, he constantly and tirelessly plants trees until new forests and life cycles emerge and life finally returns to the lower villages. The story reminds us of how much a single person can achieve. The author himself wrote: “The aim was to promote love of trees, or more precisely, to spark a love of planting trees (which has always been one of my most precious ideas).”
I have always liked the story, and now it inspires me anew, given the shock when I get involved in the daily news from around the world, of war, destruction, brutalization in politics and society – and then again experience beautiful, even peaceful moments in nature and in togetherness. Many people probably find this simultaneity demanding or overwhelming.
About the retreat
The man who plants his trees day after day lives in the mountains, far away from the events and from information about life “down there”. A (nameless) first-person narrator meets the man in the mountains one day on a hike and he visits him again and again in the years that follow. Elzéard Bouffier lives in his own world. The narrator, who is allowed to stay with him overnight, “in his hut in a hollow on the plateau,” says of him: “The company of this man filled me with peace.”
So I also read the story as an inspiration to occasionally retreat into nature. Marcus Aurelius wrote, around 1900 before Giono: “People look for places to retreat to, to the country, to the mountains, to the sea. You too tend to long for such places.” Even if he was of the opinion that what you find in nature should be sought in your own soul: “You are free to withdraw into yourself at any time, and nowhere do we find such a peaceful and undisturbed refuge as in our own soul… In this way, therefore, withdraw constantly and renew yourself.”
About the expanded view
The story of Elzéard Bouffier spans a long period of time, and the author chose this very deliberately: “In order for a person’s character to reveal truly exceptional qualities, one must be lucky enough to be able to observe his activities over many years” – this (or something similar, there are various, linguistically very different translations) is how the story begins, a few years after the turn of the century, and it ends with Bouffier’s death in 1947.
What shaped world events during this time is dealt with in a few lines on the few pages of the story. The first-person narrator mentions the First World War in one sentence – The following year the war of 1914 began, in which I was involved for five years – and the Second World War is not mentioned at all. It is not important in this mountainous region. It is said of Bouffier: “He ignored the war, just like 1914.”
Bouffier not only has a spatial distance, he also looks at larger periods of time – the time it takes for his collected, carefully sorted and just as carefully planted acorns to become stately trees. He is not interested in who was or is in power at that time.
Looking at the larger periods of time can also be very helpful for us. Marcus Aurelius also emphasized this: “Alexander and Pompey and Gaius Caesar, who so often destroyed entire cities from the ground up (…) also had to leave this world at some point. Democritus was killed by lice, Socrates by other lice.” (He means Socrates’ accusers, of course). And elsewhere:
“They are all buried, Fabius, Julian, Lepidus, or whatever they are called, who outlived many others but then had to take their turn.” Marcus Aurelius
Sometimes I catch myself thinking this somewhat comforting thought: No matter how powerful unscrupulous politicians, billionaires and other potentates may be, at some point they too will disappear from the scene – and I think, with Marcus Aurelius in mind: “Whatever you do in contradiction to general human nature, you will not succeed (in the long run).”
Even in the time of the Roman Empire there were delusional, cruel, cynical dictators. But what a great interpretation, what power does Marcus Aurelius have to this day – and what power does Emperor Caligula have, who, as we know, wanted to make his horse Incitatus consul, which meant that the senators (one is reminded of today’s US politics) were to be humiliated. To which they could only respond with praise of the emperor, which only increased their humiliation.
Marcus Aurelius’ attitude to this: “that everything you see here is almost in the process of being transformed and will soon no longer exist.” And, the stoic response to constant change: to reflect on one’s own actions.
About focusing on one’s own actions
In this respect, Bouffier could actually be described as a stoic – perhaps Marcus Aurelius – who was at war most of the time and wrote his meditations in the field camp – would have liked to lead such a life.
“No one can stop you from following the laws of your own nature.” Marcus Aurelius
Bouffier is at a distance from the world, from the anthropocentrism and egocentrism of his fellow human beings, and it is impressive that it is precisely his withdrawal from the world, his persistent planting of trees, that ultimately benefits so many people. The newly planted forests lead to the soil becoming more fertile and people settling in the area again: “If you count the immigrants as part of the old, barely recognizable population,” the story says, “then more than ten thousand people owe their happiness to Elzéard Bouffier.”
After fighting in the First World War, the first-person narrator returns to the mountains to Bouffier: “He said, and I could see it, that he had not cared at all about the war, but continued planting without being disturbed. The oaks from 1910 were now ten years old and taller than he and I, an impressive sight.”
And further: “Elzéard Bouffier showed me wonderful birch groves that were five years old; they were from 1915, when I fought in Verdun. This creative work seemed to continue to have an impact. He didn’t care about it. He stubbornly pursued his simple task. But when I went down to the villages, I saw water flowing in stream beds that had been completely dry since time immemorial. It was the most magnificent chain reaction I have ever seen. If you imagined how all this came from the hands and soul of this man, you understood that people can have god-like power, and not just in destruction.”
About the reception of the story
Jean Giono’s story was translated into 13 languages and spread all over the world.
What readers naturally wanted to know again and again: And is the story true? It contains some fundamental truths, of course – in fact, efforts to reforest the region have been underway since 1880. Before the First World War, a hundred thousand hectares of forest were reforested, mainly with black pine and larch. The newly created forests have had a lasting impact on the landscape and the water supply.
A certain Mr Valdeyron, water and forest conservator in Digne, also asked the author if the story was true. Jean Giono wrote him the following letter (in 1957):
Dear Sir,
I am sorry to disappoint you, Elzéard Bouffier is a fictitious character. My aim was to promote the love of trees, or rather the love of planting trees. This has always been one of my favourite ideas. If you measure the result, the aim has been achieved by this fictitious character. (…) I have given the rights to all these publications free of charge. A US citizen recently visited me and asked me for the rights to distribute a hundred thousand copies free of charge in the USA. Of course I said yes. It is one of the texts I am particularly proud of. It doesn’t earn me a cent, and that is probably why it achieves exactly what it was written for.
(…) I think it is time for a ‘politics of trees’, even if the word politics seems to be a poor fit.”
At the end of the story, the narrator says:
“When I see how a single person, relying on his physical and moral strength, is enough to turn a desert into a promised land, I think that humanity is admirable despite everything.”
And, if it is often difficult these days to see the admirable in people, Marcus Aurelius helps again:
“Where a work can be accomplished in harmony with reason, which is common to gods and men, there is nothing bad. For where it is possible to promote our well-being through an activity that follows the right path and is in harmony with human nature, there is no need to fear harm.”
Quotes from:
- Marcus Aurelius: Meditations
- Jean Giono: “The man who planted trees” The text is available as a PDF on the internet, and there is also a very nice animated short film about it (which won an Oscar in 1988).