Arborescence

by Rhett Davis

From the award-winning author of Hovering comes a strikingly original novel about what it means to grapple with a world where the very definition of humanity is changing.

'A balm and an urgent whisper of hope. This is a book to help us believe that all is not lost. Extraordinary' KATE MILDENHALL

'Dazzling, profound, beautiful. A devastating and unforgettable elegy for the planet' CHRIS FLYNN

'A strange and compelling exploration of our current moment. Arborescence is part Sally Rooney, part Stephen King. It reads like a thriller but has the tenderness and insight of poetry' BEN RAWLENCE

'Original, mind-bending and uplifting. I loved this beautiful, feral book so much, I wanted to walk into its pages and never look back' INGA SIMPSON

She's soaked, her hair is matted, her skin is red, her eyes are closed and her arms are by her side. From her bare feet small roots have formed and reach into the ground, anchoring her. If we tried to pick her up now, we'd need a saw. It would hurt. It might kill her.

Bren works for an obscure company with colleagues he's never met, and who might not be real. His partner, Caelyn, is looking for something more but isn't sure what. The only thing she knows for certain is that humans are breaking the world and she's powerless to do anything about it.

One day Caelyn finds a group in a forest who believe that if they stand still for long enough they will become trees. And then she discovers another . . . The idea is spreading. Soon, people go missing and trees appear in unlikely places. Is it really possible?

As cities decay and the world becomes greener, Caelyn sees nothing to fear. Bren is not so sure. Finally, they must ask themselves what they're prepared to give up - and if they are ready to stand still.

Arborescence is a compelling, deeply moving novel about connection and disconnection, ambition and apathy, loss and hope, and how we don't always know what we have until the damage is done.

'Davis' signature narrative playfulness and dryly humorous dialogue is always on hand to help sweep us further into the story . . . Arborescence is a reminder of the special way fictional worlds can allow readers to retreat from, and find the fortitude to return to, their own world' THE AGE

'Intriguing, utterly original . . . Rhett Davis's second novel leaves a lasting impression and rings with unsettling questions' READINGS

'With Davis' sharp eye and irreverent humour, the genre-blurring story branches into the tangled roots of suburban life and the natural world' SYDNEY MORNING HERALD

'This strange and beguiling novel considers what it means to be human' THE GUARDIAN

'Speculative fiction at its an end-of-world story that offers green leaves of hope . . . Imaginative and captivating' ARTSHUB

'You'll be sucked in and stunned by this novel' THE AUSTRALIAN WOMEN'S WEEKLY

Praise for Hovering, winner of the Victorian Premier's Unpublished Manuscript Award

'Every now and then a book comes along that resists a neat definition. Hovering is just such a read . . . this fascinating, compelling novel will challenge readers' GOOD READING

'In the mould of Jennifer Egan or AM Homes . . .

Genres: Fiction, Fantasy, Speculative Fiction, Environment, Australia

265 pages, Kindle Edition

Published July 30, 2025

Reviews

[Neale · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 Stars!

Bren has been working for three years for an enigmatic company he knows nothing about. It has no physical address. He has never physically met any of its employees. never met his boss, who sounds suspiciously artificial. He is a Queue Liaison. He assigns people to jobs on the queue. If Bren is honest with himself, he is not quite sure what he is doing and believes that he is working for sentient robots or artificial intelligence.

Caelyn, Bren’s girlfriend, is a little lost in life. She feels she has never finished anything she started even though she has been to university and has an arts degree. When Bren’s brother shows them a video of people standing completely still pretending to be trees in a three-hour video, Caelyn finds purpose and is excited to write an article about them, and a desire to go back to university.

We then find out that these people are not pretending to be trees, they are trying to metamorphose into trees. It turns out they are not alone. Groups start popping up not just all over the country but all over the world. And then the novel takes a bizarre turn when these people are successful and transform into trees. Caelyn, who was at first belittled for believing this process to be true, becomes the world’s foremost authority on this phenomenon and as her celebrity grows so does the gulf in her relationship with Bren.

At first it seems harmless and even noble, people transforming themselves to heal the planet from the impending state of doom and sickness we have placed it in. But after over a billion people transform, with the number continually increasing, a dystopic ending looms with surprisingly trees as our enemy. Cities are turning into jungles with trees appearing in the middle of streets, on the top of skyscrapers. This enormous number of trees literally popping up everywhere, is disrupting and slowly destroying humanity, which may just be the best thing for our planet.

Davis explores the theme of identity and the juxtaposition of technology and nature (albeit an out-of-control metastasized nature) on humanity. Both are destroying our way of life. Davis provides not only an enjoyable story, with a subtle touch of humour, but two great protagonists. Both Bren and Caelyn are very relatable characters who are a little lost in life.

I think that this may be a polarizing book. The way Davis writes in short vignettes, jumping sometimes mid conversation into another. Some passages are simply one sentence of streaming thought. This can be a little jarring. But for me it works, making the novel fast paced. I loved this novel, from the different spin that Davis puts on artificial intelligence (no spoilers) to the original idea that we may come to an end from too many trees after so many years of decimating their population.

I have this feeling that people are going to either love or hate this novel. I love it!

[SJ · Rating 5 out of 5]

A dystopia with a difference, one where its layered, complex characters lead you through a world that is completely recognisable apart from one distinction: people believe they can turn into trees.

Bren, Caelyn, and their imperious cat Henry form the quiet, beating heart of Arborescence, which is a feat of world-building and emotional architecture.

Bren works for the Queue, an ambiguous company powered by random job requests, relying on employees who may be human, but Bren suspects they’re not. Caelyn is a researcher who is intrigued by rumours of a community of people who are combatting the climate crisis by standing still so long they take root, and become trees. Henry loves lying in the sun and having a full belly.

Through Bren’s eyes we witness their relationship, as their careers and morals bend and branch in directions neither of them imagined. Henry judges them silently.

The writing style fits perfectly with the strange, uncanny concept. The dialogue - poetic, authentic and sometimes laconic - carries weight and intimacy. The story is told in small, precise moments that feel like vignettes from a half-remembered dream, which reminded me of the feeling of watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the first time.

No plot point feels extraneous, even those that at first feel like departures. I need to see a recreation of the vividly imagined comic Voidstar that features throughout the novel, especially issue #273; a work within a work that reflects the novel’s themes of creation and loss so starkly I reread it numerous times to fully imagine it on a page.

It’s hard to capture the full impact of this book in a few sentences: it’s wholly imaginative, colourful, melancholic, nuanced, romantic, hopeful, and hurtful. Arborescence asks essential questions, and it cultivates answers that will grow quietly inside you long after the last page.

(P.S. damn you, Rhett, for page 273 of this proof copy. I’m still recovering.)

Already my favourite book of 2026.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5!

[Tiana · Rating 3 out of 5]

In this piece of speculative fiction, we follow Bren & Caelyn, a couple who are feeling stuck in their lives. They come across a group in a forest who believe that if they stand still for long enough, they will become trees. Soon, people go missing and trees appear in unlikely places. This strikingly original novel shows us what it means to grapple with a world where the very definition of humanity is changing 🌱

I quite enjoy speculative fiction, and was extremely intrigued in the premise of people turning into trees. I liked that the dystopian world created was unsettling while remaining eerily reminiscent of our current reality. The philosophical nature of the prose and the unique ethical dilemmas faced by our characters were definitely thought-provoking 💡 I particularly liked the banter between Bren & Caelyn and how they grew to have differing perspectives.

Unfortunately, I struggled to resonate with the writing style. At times the flow of the writing felt a bit stuttered and not quite cohesive. The setting felt a bit ambiguous and I would have enjoyed a bit more world building and depth to our characters. Especially as there are references to technology advances and war, but it’s not quite delved into.

Overall, I thought there were some good takeaways from this puzzling, albeit weird 3⭐️ read! The biggest takeaway for me is that we, as humans, are in control of the destruction and in turn, are in control of the solution 🍃

Thank you Hachette Australia for my uncorrected proof 💌 (publication date is 30th July 2025)

[Daria · Rating 4 out of 5]

Arborescence by Rhett Davis follows Bren and Caelyn, a couple feeling stuck in their lives, as they encounter a mysterious phenomenon: people standing still in forests for hours, convinced they will transform into trees. As this eerie belief spreads with trees mysteriously appearing in unexpected places and friends disappearing, the couple must confront questions about identity, humanity, and what it means to truly ‘stand still’ in an evolving world.

The premise of people turning into trees really intrigued me and the story did not disappoint. I really enjoyed the two main characters Bren and Caelyn, I found them very relatable and entertaining. We were introduced to several other characters very early on which I did find a bit overwhelming-I ended up making notes on who everyone was to help me remember their relationship to Bren and Caelyn. I loved the contrast that while society became so technically advanced with the existence of sentient AI-powered robots that at the same time people were returning to nature and becoming trees. I thought the time jumps early on weren’t very clear and that made me a bit confused but the story was paced really well and it didn’t felt like I had missed out on anything. For a story that really gets you thinking about life and the world I was glad to not feel stressed while reading it but instead I felt oddly calm and a little optimistic at the end. Overall I thought this was a very unique and thought provoking story, it’s a 4.5/5 star read for me!

Publication date: 30 July 2025

Thank you Hachette Australia for sending me a review copy!

[Val~ · Rating 2 out of 5]

Thanks to NetGalley for this free e-book.
I wondered what this book was going to be like since I saw the cover and the description. I was really interested in how the author was going to develop a plot about the concept of "arborescence" and people becoming trees.
The author navigates through the relationship of the two main characters primarily based on their personal fulfillment from each one's job. At the same time, people have begun to turn into trees, which settles in motion a change in humanity and the world. This impacts their relationship directly, not only from what is happening everywhere and affecting different aspects of life as it is known, but from the inside of their relationship as well. I wanted to know more, so I kept reading, but it wasn't what I was expecting. It's interesting the way the author conveys the existential meaning of the plot that relates to our current way of living, but the writing style makes it difficult to connect deeply with the profound idea behind the plot. I was expecting hard sci-fi, rather than something almost purely existential. There is horror as well, and the sci-fi elements are present, but they are of a philosophical nature.

[Claire Brooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

Is it cliched to say this book took root in me and did not let go til I turned the last page? Well the page before the acknowledgments. Don’t care - cos it did. Rounded up from 4.5, this is a beautifully rendered story that had me laughing, crying, annoyed, angry and hopeful - all those things cos I am still a human and not a tree. Yet.

[Serene · Rating 4 out of 5]

It was a strange read, but something that I needed.

[A.K. Adler · Rating 4 out of 5]

This certainly made me think a lot. I've been questioning my place in the world and my role as a consumer. I honestly have no idea what this book made me feel; I'd find myself in floods of tears and be unsure if I was happy or not. Altogether, I'd say these are signs of a book that everyone should read.

It took me a while to get through. The short vignette style encouraged sipping rather than gulping. I'm left remembering a quote by Herman Hess: 'Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is.'

I do kinda want to be a tree. I think that will make me a better person.

[Sophie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was very unique and strange read. The writing style was like one long stream of consciousness broken up into fragments and this really worked for me; it felt dynamic.

We follow two young adults finding their way in the changing world together. The journey they go on felt authentic and heartfelt, I really liked both characters.

Thank you NetGalley and Little, Brown Book UK for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[Mark Redman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Review: Arborescence by Rhett Davis

I found Arborescence to be a quietly intriguing and captivating read—thoughtful, a little unsettling, and wonderfully slow to unfold. Rhett Davis expertly blends literary fiction with a surreal premise to gently explore themes of memory, identity, and the meaning of staying rooted when the world around us begins to change.

The story follows Bren, the narrator, along with his partner Caelyn, as they navigate the growing phenomenon of “arborescence”: the idea that people can remain still long enough to become trees. Bren is grounded and a bit sceptical, working in a remote, seemingly aimless job, while Caelyn becomes increasingly drawn to—and ultimately immersed in—the concept. Their relationship remains central to the story, and much of the tension emerges from their very different reactions to this strange new reality.

What truly resonated with me was the depth of the characters. Bren is reflective and imperfect, sometimes frustratingly passive, but that honestly feels genuine rather than irritating. Caelyn is compelling, and her unwavering certainty adds an intriguing edge. Davis’s prose is smooth and atmospheric, creating a rich mood and a subtle sense of unease, alongside moments of genuine insight into emotional inheritance and the fears that come with change.

Of course, the pacing might not be everyone's cup of tea. The novel spends considerable time in reflection, especially towards the middle, and the understated ending may leave some readers wishing for a bit more clarity.

All in all, Arborescence is perfect for anyone who enjoys character-driven stories filled with thought-provoking ideas and a touch of ambiguity. It’s a book that slowly, quietly, grows on you—and lingers in your mind long after you’ve turned the last page.

My thanks to NetGalley and the publishers Little Brown Book Group for free ebook and an honest opinion.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5⭐️
quite a Laura book. like a mix of pure colour, shark heart, and never let me go. definitely a bit weird but made me think a lot

[Victoria Strong · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book — it’s wonderfully weird, deeply thoughtful, and unlike anything else I’ve read. Arborescence feels set just slightly ahead of us, maybe ten or fifteen years into a future that’s both familiar and unsettling. AI is everywhere, quietly judging and outperforming its human creators, while people — still hopelessly addicted to their small rituals and comforts — bumble along in their imperfect humanity.

There’s a brilliant passage where an AI named Umlaut declares:

“We won’t need to wait for inefficient employees to attend to their addictions before performing our functions.”

Meanwhile, the narrator simply thanks the barista for the coffee. That tiny moment says so much — about addiction, absurdity, and the irreducible mess of being human.

At its heart, though, this is a love story — Bren and Caelyn’s grounded, evolving connection gives shape and warmth to a story that spans decades and ideas. Davis’s writing is fascinating — inventive yet restrained. He weaves in fragments of news, overheard conversations, and text messages to build a world that feels startlingly real. The recurring Voidstar comic from Bren’s childhood becomes a kind of parallel universe, subtly foreshadowing the future that’s unfolding around them.

It’s strange, moving, and beautifully original — a book that lingers and really gets you thinking about what it means to stay human.

[Hannah (DaemonGal) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you NetGalley for the e-ARC!

A really beautiful piece of speculative fiction set in the near future where the world is swept up in a. phenomenon where people are willingly turning into trees.

it follows the story of Bren and Caitlyn, two young adults trying to find their own ways in the world, and what happens when one achieves their goals and the other is dragged along for the ride.

The book does a good job of showing the side by side of how AI is impacting the world behind the scenes alongside showing people returning to the earth and fighting back, on their own way, against what the world has become. I enjoyed the style of the storytelling.

The short punchy sections that jumped about felt right for the sometimes 'stream of consciousness' way Bren was experiencing the world and describing it. It covers quite a lot of time and isn't always specific about how much, but it doesn't feel disjointed enough to lose track.

I was a bit disappointed with the ending, and felt like it was a bit weak and offered too little explanation following a certain event, but the rest of the story was beautiful in its own way. It explored grief in an interesting way and shared the different viewpoints and how it impacted certain aspects of the world.

I found myself considering, towards the end, what it would be like and how peaceful it would be to just let go and take root.

[Leon K · Rating 5 out of 5]

A mesmerising modern eco-fable told in such a quiet and entrancing way, like through the soft whispering of anxious trees on a windy night. Davis acts as our interpretor, weaving a beautiful tale of a rising phenomena whereby people surrender themselves to "become" trees in an increasingly nihilistic society faced with alienating non-jobs and self-sufficient AI ("alternative" intelligence) economies. Is it happening due to bio-chemical warfare? Supernatural forces? Mass psychosis? Like the best episodes of Black Mirror, the immediately invoked question ends up being not the pressing to answer, with Davis choosing to keep things impressionistic, scarse yet sharp; transporting us to far reaching places you don't really want to leave.

4.25/5

[Leslie · Rating 5 out of 5]

A stunningly original book. People are turning into trees - seemingly willingly and as a way to preserve the future of the planet. The rest of the world grapples with this new development and the loss that comes with it. 

A couple at the forefront of the experience navigate their changing relationship as one rockets to prominence as an expert on the topic and the other is dragged along to manage her schedule in a world where he is increasingly redundant as a worker. 

Life for people continues yet is irrevocably altered. Davis' imaginings of how daily life would change are so well considered and even quite profound at times. As science races to catch up with this mass transformation, we explore whether humans are worth saving. 

This book perfectly captures the exhausting, overwhelming, terrifying, urgent moment in which we currently find ourselves. And it gives us both loss and hope.

An incredible book. I rarely re-read and I want to go straight back into this one.

[Anne · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a beautiful world Rhett Davis has created. I think I would like to live there too. If only it was actually possible.

[Magpie]

Reserved for Chloe ✅

[Lucy Skeet · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh this was fantastic, unlike anything I’ve ever read! Thanks so much to Little Brown for my copy

[Amanda Edwards · Rating 5 out of 5]

Current status:
Digging in.🌳

[Nyssa · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the best books I've read all year. Funny but also asks some big questions about humanity and the future.

[Sonia Lombardo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Made me think 🤔

[Ryan Geronimi · Rating 5 out of 5]

First couple of pages the book wasn’t sure if it was set in England, America or Australia, but after that I was hooked. Been a while since I’ve read a book in a day — loved it!

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of the most striking literary debuts in 2022 was a novel of speculative fiction called Hovering by Rhett Davis, which I reviewed here and included in my favourite books of that year. In that novel an agitated city which seemed a lot like Melbourne was literally moving. Its parts were randomly rearranging themselves, moving letterboxes across the road, houses and shops across town, and whole streets to somewhere else where a SatNav couldn’t find them. The interesting thing, of course, was how people adjusted to this disorientating situation.

Davis characterised the situation in a uniquely droll style, but Hovering was a cry of protest by the earth itself. Arborescence is about a yearning for connection with the earth.

This is how the book begins:

It’s been days and she hasn’t moved. She just stands in the backyard. She says she doesn’t need anything, that she’s drawing water from the air and the ground and her energy from the sun. Last night it rained and I begged her to come inside. She shook her head slowly, as if doing so caused her pain. I took out an umbrella and held it over her, but she growled so deeply and inhumanly that I dropped it and fled inside.

In the morning, Travis comes around and I make coffee. We sit down next to her, hoping that the aroma will tempt her.

It doesn’t.

‘She’s given up,’ Travis says.

‘That’s not what this is,’ I say. (p.1)

Like Hovering, Arborescence is also good fun to read. Davis satirises contemporary life in a droll deadpan style, starting with Bren’s experience in working for The Queue. This thread highlights the insane hilarity of the consumer society and it’s impossible not to laugh at many of the scenes, but it’s also a portent of things to come when AI controls aspects of our lives without any underlying moral code. Working from home, Bren’s job is to describe weird and useless digital products but he doesn’t know what for or why, and he has never seen or had any direct contact with his employer. In time he gets further up the ladder and it becomes his job to assign the same meaningless tasks to other people. When he eventually gets fired, it’s by an actor representing the AI running the whole show. AI hires a human to sack employees to give the process a human touch…

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2025/09/19/a...

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 5 out of 5]

‘It often becomes their perspective,’ she says, her voice becoming sharp and rising in volume, ‘that muscle-bound, kinetically cursed creatures damage everything they touch. We destroy. We take and we do not give. We consume until there is nothing left. We dig and scratch and stomp and kill and cut and burn.’ She pauses again, as if she herself has just felled a tree with an axe. She takes a deep breath. The audience is silent. The light in the auditorium becomes a green–yellow, the colour of sun-dappled forest. The lightest sound of a string quartet can be heard. She invites local musicians to play in every city she visits. ‘But trees,’ she says, more softly now, ‘are the highest form of life. Life that gives, that connects, that is at peace with its place and does not seek to change it, does not want beyond what it needs, does not take, does not destroy.’ Another pause. This question has been asked before, by people suffering from the loss of loved ones. She has answered it many times, kindly. But she has no need to pause or think about it. It’s all for effect. ‘Our arborescent friends and family aren’t suicidal. They don’t have much faith in humanity, perhaps’ – the audience laughs, and she lets them – ‘and maybe not in God, however you construct Them. But they have faith. In earth, in the sun, in the wind and in the clouds. But you want a more personal take. We all do. We all want answers. It’s hard to believe that we’re here, isn’t it? That so much has changed in only a few years? That our co-workers, parents, friends have planted themselves near a river, or on the outskirts of town, or even on the street itself? We all know one, don’t we?’ She pauses again. ‘But let’s try to think of it like this. What they are saying, what each one of them is saying when they decide to dig in, to stand exposed to the sun and the rain and the earth, is this.’ She clasps her hands together and looks out at the audience earnestly. ‘All is not lost, friends. All is not lost.’

The Australian author’s second novel – one recommended to me by some Australian Bookstagrammers - but his first to be published in the UK (in January 2026).

I have not read his debut “Hovering” but the author’s website and reviews refer to a character who works as a form of online botanist, trees that grow from buildings and a “fictional cartoon from the 80s about an army of trees” - and in that respect there is a lot of overlap.

Told in a slightly fragmentary fashion, with jumps in time, it centres around the first party narrator Bren and his partner Caelyn. Since graduating around 4 years ago, at the novel’s true opening Bren works for the Queue as a Liaison, his entirely remote and online job to log on and deal with tasks the Queue (a company with something of an ephemeral presence and value mission statement) assigns him (from product copy, to social media meme creation, to editing/censoring to interpreting images or algorithms). Caelyn drifts from one job and project to another before deciding to write an article about a community of people who seem to be trying to turn into trees by standing still in the earth – a community (the Arborealists) who don’t seem to be the cult they are portrayed as.

Several years later, post graduation, Caelyn decides to do a PhD on human-plant hybridity – something Bren indulges while assuming the growing and (pun intended) spreading human-tree movement is some form of collective self delusion, while Caelyn faces repeated academic rejection.

And in the background various other relations play out: Bren’s father suffering increasingly from dementia, his wine-merchant brother, his memories of a schoolchild friend who disappeared; for Caelyn her driven parents and sister. And Bren also reflects on a weird but somehow also visionary Science Fiction comic strip he loved as a teenager – Voidstar.

But as time goes on Bren comes to believe that the ability to turn to a tree does exist. And as the evidence for this – and the practice of the human to tree metamorphosis - becomes widespread and unescapable, Caelyn is thrown into first academic success and then global fame and fortune as an early prophet of a movement whose views are eagerly sought and given as the impact increasingly dominates the economy and society as more and more people chose to turn into trees.

This rise both leads do a drifting apart of her relationship with Bren and leads to increasing ambiguity about her own role (why does she not participate, does global travel to talk at conferences on man’s impact on nature make sense) and later of the movement (as people come to resent the narrow impact on themselves of their love ones turning their back on being humans and on the economic impact that occurs).

Meanwhile Bren find himself fired by someone who reveals that they are an actor acting as effectively a human-avatar for an AI presence, takes a job as such an actor only to be fired in turn and ends up living with his widowed mother as effectively a curator of human-turned-trees on behalf of their still human friends and family. And in an example of the myriad of side-storylines which play out he is visited by his previous AI boss who has downloaded himself to a drone as AI starts to fair the breakdown of human activity threatens the power for their data centres.

The author describes himself as writing “fiction that sits somewhere between the real and the unreal, usually with an irreverent streak” – which serves as a good introduction to this book although I would add that I was most impressed with the way that it undermined didacticism with a form of quiet melancholic ambiguity and by doing so made this a enjoyable but also very thoughtful novel about much more than its ostensible speculative fiction trappings and instead about what it means to live in and consume of our world, about hope and loss.

It is I suspect one that may well appear on some prize lists the next year, literary and science fiction (with perhaps the Climate Fiction Prize the most obvious destination) and almost certainly on many best of 2026 lists.

Recommended.

My thanks to Fleet, Little Brown Book Group for an ARC via NetGalley

[Megan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Published late July 2025 in Australia.

I urge to you to put this on your TBR, pre-order it or whatever. It's brilliant and should line up for a bunch of prizes.

People are turning into trees; it's a world-wide phenomenon. Or is it a cult. Read it to find out. One of the cleverest freshest ways of thinking about the many alternative pathways our future could take other than a one-way freight train towards AI takeover or climate change disaster.

Rhett Davis is one of the most original writers in Australia. With this second novel he firmly places himself in the writers to watch list.

Thanks to Rhett and Hachette for a review copy. This one's a keeper.

[Robert Goodman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rhett Davis burst onto the Australian literary scene in 2020 with the Victorian Premier’s Unpublished Manuscript Award for his book Hovering, which went on to win the Aurealis Award when it was published in 2022. Hovering was a mind-bending piece of speculative fiction in which a city much like Melbourne was literally shifting under people’s feet, and managed to dig into questions around the nature of art and urban Australia. Davis’s new book, Arborescence, manages a similar feat but on a global scale.
Arborescence focusses on a couple, Bren and Caelyn. Bren works for a strange online company called Queue. Caelyn, meanwhile, floats from job to job until one day she hears about what her friends are calling a ‘tree cult’ and goes with Bren to investigate.
Caelyn and Bren are told that the people are trying to become trees. They do not believe it but later, Caelyn witnesses a transformation and becomes convinced that something new is happening in the world. She goes back to university to study the phenomenon but is met with resistance from the scientific establishment. However, as the evidence grows internationally, Caelyn becomes a global expert on arborescence – a term she coined for the process of people turning into trees – a success that puts a strain on her relationship with Bren.
The idea of people becoming trees is initially treated as a kind of subdued body horror. People stand and eventually become rooted to the ground, at which point they quickly become a tree that is the age that they are at the time. This is not portrayed as a simple or pain-free process. But over the course of the novel it becomes something else. Arborescence is the idea of switching off taken to an extreme – there is also a meditative quality to this decision. It is also a way of doing something practical to address environmental degradation by literally becoming part of the environment. The act itself and its consequences are treated with a pathos that is epitomised by Bren’s personal journey.
It is easy to slot Arboresence into the growing field of post-apocalyptic literature. There are plenty of weird apocalypses out there – mushrooms (The Last of Us), sound waves (The Quiet), blind aliens (The Quiet Place), rage viruses (28 Days Later) – so this is probably not the strangest. But it is possibly the quietest. This is not necessarily about the environment taking revenge on humans but rather the re-establishment of some sort of balance between humanity and nature.
But as with his previous book, Hovering, Davis has a lot more to say than just this. The story of Bren’s job turns into a weird satire on internet startups and artificial intelligence. Davis spins this idea out in a number of bizarre and often amusing directions. But in the end this is all of a piece as he explores a different aspect of the question of what it means to be human and to exist in the world.
Arborescence is another triumph of Australian speculative fiction. Centred around a believable couple in a believable relationship, Davis builds out his weird premises slowly, bringing the reader along into a shocking but somehow believable alternate future. And he uses this groundwork, in beautifully deployed prose, as a lens through which to explore deep, global questions about the environment and human autonomy in the digital age as well as very personal issues related to family and relationships and grief and loss.
Hovering was one of my favourite books of 2022, and a book I continue to recommend. And while it is only just past halfway through the year, I predict Arborescence will have a similar place in this year’s list.

[Maya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you to Little, Brown Book Group UK | Fleet for providing e with the ARC.
Pub Date Jan 15 2026
This book is so fascinating … from beginning to end. I was enamored in the story and the way it was presented. It’s a weird writing, but deep, like a journal entries, but not, like a stream of consciences, but not exactly.
The whole premise of this book, I cannot begin to explain how important and elevated it was - people becoming trees, the environmental impact of humanity and the state of the world in this near future. Bren as a main character was so relatable and I was on his side the whole time. He’s work with the alternative intelligence was so strange, that dystopian future that is set up and the slow decline that came with it. Less people, more trees and still there was something not exactly good enough, or real enough for our human nature to change.
I am missing words to explain how I felt, but by the end it was just hope. There were so many sad moments, losing people without losing them, your friends and family just deciding to continue life as something else and to give to the earth, refusing to take and destroy anymore, that was powerful and beautiful, but also hard and sad for the ones left behind. It touched me to my core. The thing I love the most about dystopian scenarios is the hope, that small light at the end of the tunnel: “…maybe we’re worth saving … Some of us.”
There are strong stands here that may put some people off, but too bad for you if think that we are not the problem and we shouldn’t do anything to change what it’s happening with our environment right now: “It’s hard, I think, to know you are the problem. That to fix it you need to excise yourself. You still want to be a part of something. You want to exist. And yet in merely existing you destroy. You are the problem.” Caelyn is a much layered character and I really appreciated her role all through this narrative. I loved her and Bren’s banter. Also this has a lot of humor, it made me laugh so often in the first half, then it got progressively morose and sad, but I still loved it. The fictional comic series that Bren and his friend loved to read and the main entity Voidstar, were such a great additions of sci-fi stories, so beautiful and transcendent. I haven’t read from Rhett Davis before, but now I would ready anything else he puts into the world.
This is a very special book, I cannot recommend it enough. It filled me with meaning, and hope and positivity. And it made me think. I would think about it for a long time and I will try to be a better human just for the sake of other good humans that are doing the same.

[Amy Cooper · Rating 5 out of 5]

faaaaaark. what a gut punch.

There's only so much energy to go around. We're in a room with no exits and limited oxygen. It was always going to happen, this correction. I'm surprised at how gentle it is. It's a calm but unsettling rebalancing. It hurts, it takes, and those of us who remain are left with enormous grief. But it's not death. It's not a sudden great cataclysmic end. If it eventually comes for us all, if the entire planet becomes covered with our wooden bones and new shoots, if the world goes back to green and sky, would it be so bad? Or if it eventually stops, and whoever is left has to relearn how to live, would that be so bad? It's all seemed so sad to me until now. It's felt like extinction. But maybe it's not. Maybe it's the best possible outcome.

I loved this. It's kind of hard to explain because, even after finishing it, I'm not entirely sure I understand this book and all that it's saying enough to explain its meaning properly to myself, let alone to someone else. It's the kind of book that I think I could easily re-read another two times before even beginning to sort of dig in (excuse the unintentional joke) to everything that it contains and is saying, but I loved it enough that two re-reads is by no means an outrageous idea. The little vignettes/ paragraph style threw me off at first, but I grew to love them. To some extent, I think that they're a bit of a double edged sword; they kept the pace supremely fast and meant that I sped through the book, but I also wanted (even as I was speeding) to slow down and appreciate each of the moments they depicted more deeply and properly... but the momentum and the emotion that they built in me meant that I simply could not!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gut-wrenching, beautiful, poetic, rambling, purposeful, original, brilliant. Will absolutely be thrusting this upon people at the store like there's no tomorrow.

'I want things,' I say to Henry. 'All you want is a ray of sunlight to lie in and a full belly. I'm much more evolved than you. You can look at me like that all you want, but I am. You hardly want anything.'
He stares at a magpie that's settled on the fence outside.
I realise that what I want most is a ray of sunlight to lie in and a full belly.

[Elli (Kindig Blog) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was obsessed with the blurb (and title, although it’s hard to spell!) for Arborescence and it was one of my most anticipated reads of my January 2026 releases.

As the world gets more automated and AI is taking over, a new movement is beginning across the globe. People are standing still, touching grass, taking root and turning into trees.

Arborescence follows the story of Bren, as he goes about his days working for a shadowy corporation on ‘The Queue’ and his nights trying to support his directionless girlfriend Caelyn as she starts to become interested in people turning into trees. The narrative is quite disjointed in places, just one or two sentences to describe a place, a feeling, a day. It also frequently jumps weeks or even years. The general sense of foreboding persists throughout though, and this narrative technique makes it easy to read and even easier to get hooked on what might happen next.

The plot is perfectly placed for the modern day and uses a lot of themes and issues which are so relevant to society as we know it right now. The timeline is a little further ahead of us, with AI running a lot of corporations and using humans as the ‘face’ of a business in order to make other humans feel more at ease. This, crazily, isn’t so hard to believe and makes the more sci-fi elements of people being able to take root in the ground, a little easier to swallow.

Although I absolutely loved the premise, I did find the plot a little simplistic why is why I give it the 4-star rating - it was easy to see where it would be going and nothing particularly shocked me whilst reading. It is a strong read though and I would recommend it – it’s also quite short and well-paced which helps to make it a compelling read.

Overall, Arborescence is a brilliant premise and one that is so suited for society at this moment in time - it reminds us how important it is to remain human. Thank you to NetGalley & Little Brown Book Group UK – Fleet for the chance to read the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

For more of my reviews check out Kindig Blog