Jean Giono wrote this book in 1954 as a fable about the symbiotic relationship between the Earth and its inhabitants. His narrator, while walking “in that ancient region where the Alps thrust down into Provence,” meets a shepherd who gives him food, water and shelter for the night. Not before time, because he is seriously dehydrated. He discovers next day that the shepherd is planting trees so that the bare, dry hillsides and valleys, scoured by fierce winds, can live again. The shepherd, Elzeard Bouffier, doesn’t care who owns the land, only that it should be healed. The narrator, let’s call him Giono for simplicity, invests Bouffier with mythical attributes from the first paragraph: For a human character to reveal truly exceptional qualities, one must have the good fortune to be able to observe its performance over many years. If this performance be devoid of all egoism, if its guiding motive is unparalleled generosity, if it is absolutely certain that there is no thought of recompense and that, in addition, it has left its visible mark upon the earth, then there can be no mistake. After this first meeting in 1913, Giono does indeed observe Bouffier in his visits over the years, until their last meeting in 1945, when Bouffier is 87, two years before his death. During that time, Bouffier transforms the landscape, tirelessly, methodically planting 100 trees every day. He switches from sheep-herding (they cause too much damage to the young trees) to bee-keeping, so that plants and flowers can be pollinated. Jean Giono (1895-1970) Giono sees the changes at each visit, separated by years, and this becomes the narrative. With reforestation comes the return of streams, small farms, breezes instead of gales, and the embittered inhabitants become kinder as the environment brings out their better qualities. Young, adventurous newcomers settle there, the old ruined villages are rebuilt, and once more it’s a place fit for civilized human beings. And vice-versa. I said the book is a fable. Two world wars pass the region by and even a government commission sent to investigate this remarkable natural resurgence of forest is able to do no harm. The implicit assumption is that Bouffier is so in harmony with the natural world that all obstacles just fall away. But if this is achievable only through the deep altruism displayed by Bouffier, well, it’s a steep learning curve. That said, The Man Who Planted Trees is a moving and inspiring book, made all the more beautiful by Michael McCurdy’s evocative woodcut illustrations. And Giono made it freely available for publication by anyone, after its initial rejection by the American company that commissioned it. They wanted a story about a real Unforgettable Character. Giono created a fictional character who does what most of us are incapable of – carrying through an altruistic impulse as a personal, lifelong mission. There is an afterward by Norma L. Goodrich, in which she visits the dying Giono in 1970 and talks about the influence of this book and his other writing. (http://curiator.com/contribute)