Terrible People

ISSUE #107

Everyone I know is reading Normal People by Sally Rooney. These rare times when a book becomes this popular might be our brightest moments, even if the work in question is sometimes frustrating. This is a story of miscommunication and every mistake that stems from youth — all internalized hatred and the terror of intimacy. My copy is covered with marginalia like "You moron," and “Booooo,” and "Talk to each other!!!"

This frustration is certainly by design, and the clear irony of the title is there's nothing normal about people. Rooney's great strength lies in mapping the tangled psychology of why we swallow the things we should actually say. We all just want the private places in our heads ratified by others, before they deepen too far to reach. "The greatest flaw of the species is its overwhelming tendency to mistake agreement for truth."

That quote is from The Overstory, the book I've been reading after Normal People. It's a robust and weaving tale about the connections we all have to trees, those most disrespected gods and builders of the Earth we use. Reading about the idiocy of youth can sometimes be maddening, but reading about these trees is illuminating. Their peaceful contrast shows us who we really are, creatures so wedded to advancement we'd strike down any love who stands in our way.

The murders of innocents we're dealing with this week are the result of this evil, make no mistake. Calls for civility ignore the reality of our true nature. Self, ambition, ego, greed — these America has always exalted, and we beg them to be ratified by the worst impulses of others. We molded the world from the violence in ourselves, and we've erected our country on incessant death.

Yet, for all our brutal and cruel stupidity, the trees will never punish us. No, destruction is humanity's greatest talent — those with power prove it almost every day. We cannot let them win. They must realize the corruption of their systems, or we have no choice but to use this talent to fell them like forests of rot. Only then might we plant anew, and grow closer to a better nature.