Hell on earth is real. The toxic fusion of big oil, Evangelical Christianity, and white supremacy has ignited a worldwide inferno, more phantasmagoric than anything William Blake could dream up and more cataclysmic than we can fathom. Escaping global warming hell, this revelatory book shows, requires a radical, mystical marriage of Christianity and biology that awakens a future beyond white male savagery.Timothy Morton argues that there is an unexpected yet profound relationship between religion and ecology that can guide a planet-scale response to the climate crisis. Spiritual and mystical feelings have a deep resonance with ecological thinking, and together they provide the resources environmentalism desperately needs in this time of climate emergency. Morton finds solutions in a radical revaluation of Christianity, furnishing ecological politics with a language of mercy and forgiveness that draws from Christian traditions without bringing along their baggage. They call for a global environmental movement that fuses ecology and mysticism and puts race and gender front and center. This nonviolent resistance can stage an all-out assault on the ultimate Satanic the concept of master and slave, manifesting today in white supremacy, patriarchy, and environmental destruction. Passionate, erudite, and playful, Hell takes readers on a full-color journey into the contemporary underworld—and offers a surprising vision of salvation.
Timothy Bloxam Morton is Rita Shea Guffey Chair in English at Rice University. They are the author of Dark Ecology: For a Logic of Future Coexistence; Nothing: Three Inquiries in Buddhism (with Marcus Boon and Eric Cazdyn); Hyperobjects: Philosophy and Ecology after the End of the World; and other books.
This is the most shocking presentation of the gospel you’ll ever read. Morton’s characteristic bricolage-style is on full display here but as he layers on the absurd references and observations it’s all dragging you to the most embarrassing and extraordinary revelation one can ever have: Jesus loves you anyway.
Timothy Morton's latest work, “Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology”, offers an elaborate exploration of the interplay between religion, ecology, and spirituality. Building upon his previous works, particularly “Dark Ecology”, Morton takes readers on a journey that delves deeper into theology, drawing inspiration from the visionary Christianity of William Blake.
As a fellow admirer of William Blake, I found Morton's incorporation of Blake's poetry and engravings to be a highlight of the book. Blake's unique and often enigmatic interpretation of Christianity provides fertile ground for Morton's ideas to take root and flourish. Another unexpected companion in Morton's narrative is the music of British singer Laura Mvula, whose work served as a powerful soundtrack to my reading. Mvula's lyrics, with their poetic imagery and evocative language, are a fitting companion to Morton's exploration.
Morton's writing style is evocative and accessible, resembling more of a spoken discourse than a traditional academic treatise. However, there are moments when his arguments become tangled in complexity, making it challenging for readers to follow the thread of his reasoning (which might be something you are accustomed to if this is not your first time reading Morton).
At the heart of "Hell" lies a radical reevaluation of Christianity and its binary fostering interpretations. Morton skillfully elaborates on the nexus between religion, environment, ecology, and biology, challenging readers to rethink traditional notions of faith and salvation in the context of our current ecological crisis.
“Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology” is poised to become an important text in the field of eco-spiritual studies. While humanities scholars will undoubtedly find value in its insights, readers from all disciplines stand to benefit from its reflections on the urgent need for a planetary response to the climate crisis.
I sincerely thank NetGalley and Columbia University Press for granting me access to an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this thought-provoking work. It has been a privilege to engage with Morton's ideas ahead of its official release
Thanks to NetGalley and Columbia University Press for the ARC!
Appropriately, Timothy Morton’s Hell is an inflammatory hot mess of a book.
Drawing on Dante, Milton, and Blake, the book (ostensibly) envisions a healthier relationship to the biosphere by dressing it in second-hand Christian and Buddhist iconography. It’s an exciting approach to a critical issue, and I found Morton’s reimagining of the divine both fun and interesting, as well as how they use it to critique “scientism” as its own form of religiosity. Or, as they put it, how they call for “a post-deist, that is to say, post-Enlightenment, indeed Blakean-Romantic, totally un-Hegelian fusion of Christianity and science, the complete opposite of intelligent design: the Stupid Accident theory.”
Based on that sentence alone, you probably have a pretty good idea of what Hell is like, and it's also where my appreciation ends.
This book is absolutely chaotic, proudly embodying a kind of squirrelly energy that will either entice or estrange readers. As an example, there’s a section in which Morton interrogates the etymology of abba as a name for god before suddenly saying our new name for the divine is social media. It’s a pivot that feels laughably unexpected and woefully irrelevant, sounding more like a 2014 evangelical youth pastor than anything else.
The frenetic nature of the text is mystifying; it’s written in the style of those professors who imagine themselves to be rockstars, unaware that they are frumpy, middle-aged, and a bit of a joke. That’s not a dig at Morton as an individual—those were my favorite professors. It is, however, an accurate summary of the kinds of digressions that populate the book, as the author attempts to unify almost every hot-button issue—from COVID vaccines to fascism to AI—until it all slips out of their control.
Like many “grand re-envisionings” of sensitive topics, Hell feels limited by its preoccupation with cultural artifacts in lieu of their origin. Morton includes every one of their pop culture interests, but they rarely seem to enrich the conversation. To be frank, they often feel more like gestures towards relevance—“I know who Lil Nas X is. That’s cool, right?” Moreover, this book repeatedly circles around Trump, QAnon, and BLM, but their inclusion feels anachronistic and almost purely cosmetic. The alt-right icons simply feel unproductive, but the use of racial issues seems downright irresponsible. When Morton attempts to connect racism to speciesism, it rings disingenuous and reeks of the privilege of analysis without experience, and they are just as flippant in their use of sexual politics. As a whole, the author’s positionality often feels artificial—condemning white patriarchal structures without fully recognizing how much they enable this style of scholarship.
Ultimately, Hell is a letdown because it feels like there’s a premise here that would be fruitful if it were used responsibly in a book with a much tighter edit. In its current form, though, it parodies its own ecological urgency by reducing the climate crisis to a kind of pop cultural debate on par with children arguing about whether Batman could beat Superman in a fight.
That sounds like a joke, but I’ve probably forgotten a few pages in Hell that cover that exact subject.
“Why be bleak when you can be Blake?” — Jhonn Balance “Earth is a canon of love / Shame be on Socrates” — Julian Cope . Wow. Where to begin. Well, I can’t sell this in a quick blurb, but I *want* to. I think everyone needs to be just as exploded by this book. I cannot pretend to understand everything that Morton is stitching together here, but I have a feeling or sense of it all. The grace and mercy that permeates the message is a critical component. Oscillating between a philosophical argument and personal experience, the very structure of the book reflects the entanglement that has led Morton to a Christian understanding (the caveat here that most Christians might struggle with this as much as everyone else) — it feels cyclical-y, stream-of-consciousness-y, treastis-y. Sometimes all mashed together. Morton remarks frequently in interviews that he considers his writings “self-help from future Tim”. That might be the best way to describe what you may experience in reading this — you may start to understand it in several years’ time. Read this if you are interested or concerned about global warming, the polarized political situation and fascism, interspecies symbiosis, Milton and Blake.
This was a very difficult book to read, not just because of the important subjects under discussion but because of the stream of consciousness approach to writing, in my opinion! If you were to try and highlight every important sentence, then the book would be awash with highlights. Morton draws on all kinds of texts from Blake and Milton to Tillich and Lewis in sharing his understanding of how science and faith (rather than religion) are connected and he brings with him the verve of the (self-styled) born again Christian with a sense of inclusive spirituality. He challenges words and their meanings...and their other meanings in an ongoing cycle whilst still having to use words - and not crossing them out a la Derrida. I finished it and wondered if I had just been dragged through hell myself. It is a book for reading in very small chunks and then going away and thinking about it...but it is worth the effort.
An absolutely unique reading experience. Hell realizes at an unprecedented level the thought-inducing energies of Morton's writing. If you can open yourself to this book, you can match Morton's wavelength and discover your own thoughts melting, bubbling, latticing and lettucing. Plus you get insights from their decades of living with Blake's works. Deeply personal and in that uniqueness resides the path to universal meaning. Hell is a most particular book; I recommend reading it and as you do so try to loosen the molecules of your expectations.
I have a hard time with this book. I wanted to like it, and there were glimpses in which I found myself greatly enjoying it, but ultimately I feel as though the structure and diction made it hard for me to want to rate this higher than I have.
The ideas discussed are at very least interesting, and from my limited base of knowledge, unique and worth discussing, but I can't help but feel as though the outline of reasoning at nearly every page turn felt muddled and therefore required a great deal of circuitous reading for what otherwise would have been a simple concept otherwise. Within chapters there are such a myriad of topics that the experience of reading feels not too dissimilar to watching a bird flit between trees. Rarely does one topic reach its full conclusion before it continues onto the next. It felt almost as if I was falling through a canopy and every once in a while I could grab hold of a branch on the way down. The branch would be interesting and valuable, but it would soon break and I'd find myself falling until the next branch.
My experience is not necessarily representative of what another might experience with Morton's writing - and as I said earlier, at its core, I enjoyed reading and parsing what Morton was conveying, I just have a hard time rating it higher simply because of the method of knowledge transmission here. Don't let this dissuade you from picking it up if you would like to.
Caveat lector: this book is less a work of nonfiction than it is a prose poem written in a Blakean key. Read by the standards of the former, it falls short, except for brief, scattered sections. Read as the latter, it is perhaps a success.
Hell! It’s real. And it isn’t and afterlife abode.
It’s here, in the here and now.
And getting “saved” isn’t going to make it go away, although a “born again” experience might just do it.
Drawing from William Blake’s The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, Timothy Morton takes us on a Blakean journey of “mental fight” in search of a Christian Ecology for Hell. He takes us into a Hell far beyond whatever horrors the fantasmagoric mind of Blake could ever conjure up. The journey flips our understanding of Hell. And it is in that flip that we find our way beyond Hell, or perhaps in the spirit of Balke, heaven and hell become married.
And even that in itself is a double-sided coin. Hell is not some theological construct. Hell is the marriage of Trump. Male Ego, Christian Nationalism, Self-Serving Politics, and Corporate Greed. And this is burning—burning our own humanity, literally burning our world.
The other side, a metaphorical marriage between Heaven and Hell (in the Hell is what we have ecologically become) that mystically unites – marries – ecological politics with the grace and mercy of authentic Christianity. A “marriage” that in the courtship encountered and counter race and gender. It is a marriage birth in and sustained by Love.
Although “In Search of a Christian Ecology, the title is best read as “Hell in search of a Christian Ecology.” For that is what this book really is.
Like all marriages, it is a journey, but in this journey, as Morton portrays it, it is a journey in which we become, as he puts it, aware of “A world without ends.” It is a world beyond our imagination.
For Timothy Morton this is his personal story, a very personal story. One in which he experiences a mystical “born-again” Christianity. It is a journey for him where love didn’t bring peace, but rather a sword, a hellish sword that set him on a quest. What he discovered became Salvation—literally and spiritually. Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology is that quest. That road to Salvation.
Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology, if we are serious about changing the tractile of the universe, this book is a must read. It is not the typical Christian ecology book, it’s not even the typical ecology book. It’s deep. It’s personal. – And it flips our thinking about what’s necessary to save both our planet and our own souls.
Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology is divided into three parts, each part called, “Holy.” A play on the word, “Hell.”
Part One welcomes us Hell, “the place where all your dreams come true.” And that place is right here on earth. [I was once told by a Jewish writer that the afterlife Hell is exactly that. However, our dreams are experienced over and over again until they become hell to experience.] In Part Two, Hell is the place where no one is at home. A place of ignorance and innocence. The place to discover Christ. Part Three, Hell is a place as “hot as hell,” and yet a beautiful world without end. In each “Holy” Morton unfolds William Blake (and not only William Blake) as he melds biological science with Christianity to deliver a Christian Ecology. And thus, Salvation.
Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology is serious, yet a fun read. Reading the book is like I’m residing in Morton’s head as he works out Hell In Search of A Christian Ecology.
Like Slavoj Žižek on speed. Lots of crystalline brilliancies, most of which don't get the amplification they need. The broad theme, exemplified by William Blake's Marriage of Heaven and Hell, would take any number of books to explore. The biggest disappointment is the scant attention to climate change, which Morton singled out in an earlier book as a "hyperobject." Several of his earlier books have 'Ecology' in the title, so how can this one, so overflowing with grief, not be about climate change and all that monstrous Grinch is in the process of taking away: the biosphere's viability and, along the way, who knows how many of life's niceties?
As to the comparison with Slavoj Žižek, both authors are spatterers of elegant, academic opinions. Žižek has been doing it for decades; now Morton joins the trade. But the difference is that Žižek is a good teacher used to having good students; he does not neglect discursive presentation of ideas. By contrast, Morton, in this book, seems to be living in his own head almost exclusively. His erudite display is clearly cathartic -- to himself; whereas the reader seems oddly disconnected, almost unnecessary to what's going on. Overall, Morton's method here is a head scratcher, one that almost qualifies as narcissistic.