A dazzling, evidence-based account of one man’s quest to heal from complex PTSD by turning to endangered coral reefs and psychedelic plants after traditional therapies failed—and his awakening to the need for us to heal the planet as well.
Professor Greg Wrenn likes to tell his nature-writing students, “The ecological is personal, and the personal is ecological.” What he’s never told them is how he’s lived out those correspondences to heal from childhood abuse at the hands of his mother.
Weaving together memoir and cutting-edge science, Mothership is not just a queer coming-of-age story. It’s a deeply researched account of how coral reefs and a psychedelic tea called ayahuasca helped Greg heal from complex PTSD—a disorder of trust, which makes the very act of bonding with someone else panic-inducing. From the tide pools in Florida where he grew up, to Indonesia’s Raja Ampat archipelago and the Amazon rainforest, this is his search for wholeness when talk therapy and pharmaceuticals did little to help. Along the way, as his ecological conscience wakes up, he takes readers underwater to the last pristine reefs on earth, and into the psyche.
Written with prophetic urgency, Mothership ultimately asks if doses of nature will be enough to save us before it’s too late.
Wrenn is an associate English professor teaching environmental literature at James Madison University. He has also been exploring coral reefs for 25 years, with a love of marine wildlife sparked by growing up in Florida. But all along, he’s been trying to come to terms with addiction, queerness, suicidal inclinations, and especially his mother’s place in his life. She made him feel dirty, that he would never be good enough; she hit him with a wooden spoon and bathed him until he was 17. Though he never found out for sure, he suspects his mother was sexually abused by her father and repeated the cycle of molestation.
This is the third C-PTSD memoir I’ve read (after What My Bones Know and A Flat Place), and has a lot in common with I’m Glad My Mom Died, which features a co-dependent relationship with an abusive mother. After Wrenn’s parents’ divorce, he and his mother remained close. “I had been her therapist, confessor, girlfriend, and punching bag.” He helped care for her after a stroke but eventually had to throw up his hands at her stubborn refusal to follow doctors’ orders. Drawing on the Greek etymology of ecology (oikos means house or family), Wrenn insists on a parallel between the personal and the environmental here: “What we’re facing amounts to global C-PTSD” as “Mother” Earth turns against us. On each trip to Raja Ampat, he knows the coral reef is dying, his carbon footprint only accelerating it.
There’s a lot in this short memoir. Even the summary had me shaking my head in disbelief. For me, though, the tone and style were too erratic. Wrenn can be wry, sorrowful, or campy; he includes scientific data, letters to Adrienne Rich and an imagined descendent, a chapter riffing on “Otters” (the animal and the gay stereotype), flashbacks, and E.T. metaphors. The final third of the book then takes a left turn as he experiments with therapeutic psychedelics via ayahuasca ceremonies in South America, and ditches dating apps and casual sex to try to find a long-term relationship. The drug literally alters his brain, allowing him to feel trust and love. Add on nature and a husband and that’s why he’s still here rather than dead by suicide.
Wrenn published poetry before switching genre. His book is amazing in premise but wobbly in execution. Still, I’d say the author is laudable for his effort to depict a life wrenched back from extremity.
What a beautiful and honest book this is. The vulnerability it took to write it and share it with humanity. But more than anything, this book is a love song to healing, both individual and collective, an urgent cry for a wounded planet filled with wounded people, all of us hungry for love and connection, which (I believe) are essential ingredients for changing the path of collapse and pain we are all walking. This is one of those books I will come back to, time and again, to re-read some of the passages as I walk my own healing path. It's a beautiful thing, to open a book and find your story, your pain, and your hope in the words of another. A little sign that our pains and longings are universal, that we can help each other walk ourselves home. Thank you, Greg, for being brave enough to write this book.
Greg shares his personal story powerfully and poignantly (without unloading all of his trauma on you), ties together a ton of science and research (in a highly entertaining and digestible way), and makes a really strong case for saving yourself so you can hopefully help save the planet.
I feel like a more aware and awake human for having read it. It’s also made me want to take Greg’s favorite class he teaches, Environmental Literature of Wonder and Crisis.
Hard to categorize as a genre, but a compelling journey of exploration of self and sea ... a memoir about trauma, healing and wonder. The author shares his journey of processing the shame he was subjected to. Along the way he finds hope and help in nature, from coral reefs, majestic sea creatures and native medicines. It left my heart open - hopeful that we can continue to deeply care for each other and our planet.
4.4 stars - this book felt super intimate and I learned so much. the book is raw; no bs, no sugarcoating. he brings you to an eye level perspective for what it’s like to live with C-PTSD, be gay in conservative florida, the healing properties of the earth, and use psychedelics for healing. portions of this book were pretty intense and make me feel uncomfortable or angry but it was never overpowering. there are also so many fun facts in this book that i will now get to share with people!
the only part I didn’t love was that the psychedelic portion of the book felt a little disorganized but i guess that makes sense because he’s recounting his experiences with psychedelics. also i think it’s my reaction to “drugs are bad” and I didn’t think you were supposed to do psychedelics that much. I like how he explained how studies support his claims but also talked about how brutal his trips were.
the back of this book is super misleading like 20% of the book is about psychedelics I feel like the description makes it sound like this entire book is about that which glazes over all the other amazing things he has to say.
Thank you so much NetGalley, the author and publisher for this ARC.
Greg Wrenn’s story was so real, completely raw. He really has a way of storytelling where you can easily relate to so many of the feelings mentioned. What I liked best, honestly, is his descriptions of nature/the connection humans have with it, and also how he felt during those healing and life changing trips. Really beautiful and eye-opening.
Sometimes, I had difficulty to connect with his personal story (which sounds kind of heartless, since it’s a memoir), but I might only be because of my writing taste or maybe just the fact that I read this in a too long window of time.
Greg's memoir is at once raw yet refined, a brutally beautiful and vulnerable reflection on healing and humanity that grapples with crises of both the existential and ecological varieties. His story sheds light on the realities of living with CPTSD, the toll technology takes on our emotional and physical well-being, and the power of nature-based healing through psychedelics. With nuanced prose backed by scientific research, this memoir reads, at times, like an environmentalist's manifesto. Ultimately, Mothership is a reminder that in order to heal the planet, we must first heal ourselves.
Beautifully written memoir that speaks to the power of nature in keeping us grounded and stable. After years of childhood abuse, the author finds healing in the ocean. The author cares deeply about the Earth and shared about the coral reefs in away that seemed to be in parallel with our human pain and suffering. Before reading this book, I was aware of research on the use of psychedelics in treating people suffering from PTSD, and I learned more about that process. I will be recommending this book to many friends and family members.
Mothership was a deeply moving memoir weaving the author’s chronic, complex childhood developmental trauma with our planet’s current path of annihilation. Greg’s story takes us to the brink then cracks open to a space of total love and connection through his healing journey. I was immediately hooked. I wept, I laughed, I rejoiced at the hope for our humanity and all that exists on our planet. I hope more will join the mothership in harmony!
Like your dearest, weirdest friend is honoring you with their struggles, their epiphanies, their candor and their bravery traversing CPTSD, beauty, this rapidly deteriorating natural world, and their beliefs on what we can do to heal ourselves and the planet. I read it during a difficult time for myself, and it was a balm that we can all be human, flawed, and redeemed by this Earth and love.
Wonderful writing and timely self-transformation, I've already been recommending it to my friends.
I was truly captivated throughout reading this book. Maybe because the author is a familiar name having attended the same high school (i.e. acquaintance). Maybe because there are mentions of Jacksonville, Florida (i.e. nostalgia). Maybe because of the author's courage to be so vulnerable (i.e. connection). Either way, I enjoyed getting to know Greg Wrenn through his own words. (Insert virtual hugs.)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I was honestly unsure how Wrenn could mix trauma, psychedelics, and coral reefs into one story, but he does it with such ease. Mothership surprised me in the best way possible. Wrenn's writing is beautiful and deeply moving, seamlessly tying together these elements into a tale that feels both heartfelt and profound.
His storytelling is a blend of heartbreak and hope. Huge thanks to Greg Wrenn for this amazing book. It will be a book that stays with you long after the last page.
• Inspired by Adrienne Rich to “look outward, give back to the world,” Greg Wrenn’s personal story does just that. Reading his elegant, clean prose, I could imagine him bathing in the forest air as he lent of himself to ecological study. Unlike many memoirs, the author doesn’t attempt to make an idol of himself. Rather, he uses his personal story to discuss larger issues, including psychedelic medicine. An enthralling and educational read.
Brave, honest exploration of family disconnect, serialized trauma, and healing through plants that speaks to the author's personal story yet applies to issues Mother Earth currently faces as well. As a fellow diver, I appreciated the rich, comprehensive depictions of the underwater world. As a person unacquainted with psychedelics, the education was enlightening. Throughout, Wrenn's humor and wit made taking this journey with him unapologetically amusing.
An exquisitely researched guidebook for healing. Wren invites readers into wonder with descriptions of coral reefs and jungle ecosystems so vivid, it’s as if you’re floating beside him above giant clams and beneath giant Amazonian lupuna trees. Wren shows us it’s never too late to heal old wounds, forgive, and start anew.
Greg's memoir was unexpected, raw with emotion and laughter, and brought my attention back to a focus on protecting our corals. I will go back to this book again and again!
This work is beautiful, heart-wrenching, poetry. The way Greg Wrenn tells his story, while also reporting on the effects of climate change on the coral treasures of this planet is incredibly sad, and yet reminds one that we can stil find beauty and wonder while we are here.