In a future so near as to be tomorrow, forests suddenly
and aggressively begin to reclaim our cities. Most people are
alarmed, but Dora Henry finds it appealing. Dora is a police
detective assigned to the murder of a scientist who had been
researching animal genetics. As she works on the case, she finds
hints of a connection between the murder and the rampant, new
forests, and, for some reason, her recently estranged husband.
In a long distant future, the story-telling slave Nassif
accompanies a sultan's son on a pilgrimage to St. Weel. In typical
quest fashion, they gather numerous companions as they go: the
eunuch Soaz, Prince Izakar of Palmia, the Countess of Estafan
(and her secretary, and her cook), Lucy Lowe and her
brothers Mince and Burrow, and others. The land is restless, the
trees are restless, but no one quite knows why. To boot, Izakar
has a Prophecy to fulfill, if anyone can ever figure it out. Then
they reach St. Weel, where an even more enigmatic task awaits.
Sheri Tepper's newest novel displays her usual strengths and
weaknesses: a well-planned, intriguing story; thinking, reasoning
characters, both women and men; delightful surprises; as well as a
lot of humor and the occasional bad pun. Tepper's problem is that
she sometimes loses control of significant plot lines. The forests
which dominated Dora's part of the story are suddenly unimportant
by the end of the book; a similar flaw devastated Shadow's
End, but The Family Tree, fortunately, survives.
Like Beauty and Shadow' End before it, The
Family Tree is a cautionary tale about the consequences of
species extinction and other careless brutalities we do to the
earth. As usual, Tepper allows us a saving grace, a chance for
atonement for the damage we have done. This is the sad thing about
Tepper's fantasies, and probably where her stories are most truly
fantasy: Even when she allows us, the human race, to save
ourselves from our own worst mistakes and vices, she still must
resort to an outside (and fantastic) influence to act as
catalyst to get us started. Because really and truly, we're going
to have to do it on our own.
This review copyright 1997 by Wendy Morris