The American chestnut was one of America's most common, valued, and beloved trees―a "perfect tree" that ruled the forests from Georgia to Maine. But in the early twentieth century, an exotic plague swept through the chestnut forests with the force of a wildfire. Within forty years, the blight had killed close to four billion trees and left the species teetering on the brink of extinction. It was one of the worst ecological blows to North America since the Ice Age―and one most experts considered beyond repair. In American Chestnut, Susan Freinkel tells the dramatic story of the stubborn optimists who refused to let this cultural icon go. In a compelling weave of history, science, and personal observation, she relates their quest to save the tree through methods that ranged from classical plant breeding to cutting-edge gene technology. But the heart of her story is the cast of unconventional characters who have fought for the tree for a century, undeterred by setbacks or skeptics, and fueled by their dreams of restored forests and their powerful affinity for a fellow species.
Susan Freinkel is the author of American Chestnut: The Life, Death, and Rebirth of a Perfect Tree. She is a San Francisco based writer who most often writes about science and medicine. Her articles have appeared in a variety of publications including: Discover, Smithsonian, Reader's Digest, the new York Times, Health and Real Simple. American Chestnut is her first book."
Freinkel provided just what I was looking for: a short, readable overview of the history of the American Chestnut in American culture, its decline due to the ascomycete fungus Cryphonectria parasitica, and all of the attempts to restore it using breeding and genetic modification. She went into personal detail about the main figure in the story, including William Murrill, who identified and studied the pathogen at the NY Botanical Garden; Phillip Rutter, the super badass curmudgeon who lives off the grid on his farm in the woods, is obsessed with evolutionary ecology and history, and co-founded the American Chestnut Foundation; and William Powell, the guy working to put blight resistance genes into chestnuts directly.
I am interested in chestnuts as a flagship, staple perennial polyculture food crop. As far as I can tell (I haven't seen anyone speculate so flagrantly) they were at one point the largest producer of food in the Eastern US. They fed the enormous flocks of passenger pigeons, native Americans and settlers, squirrels, and practically any other professional or amateur seed predators around. Chinese and European chestnuts have been domesticated for ages and easily substitute into a perennial polyculture farm like Mark Shepard's. But I hear the American tree is better - while its nuts are smaller, the trees produce them in greater abundance, and they are tastier. When the restoration program succeeds (and I have no doubt at this point that it's just a matter of time), the tree will be essentially wild. That's what I want: a wild ecosystem that makes tons of food. I am having a hard time envisioning non-native trees in my ideal restoration agriculture.
There are three main paths of research in the modern era include that of the ACF, back-cross breeding to obtain the immunity genes from Chinese chestnuts and then eliminate undesirable genes; that of ACF NY, genetic modification; and that of the ACCF, cross-breeding survivors to stack immunity among 100% American trees. By 2013, some of the genetically modified trees have been planted at the NYBG and elsewhere.
Mark suggested in his talk that, following standard disease ecology, if people had just left American Chestnuts alone when the blight struck, a few would have survived, sufficient to repopulate. In the beginning of the book, it seemed like Freinkel was implying this wasn't the case, that the trees were doomed by an accidentally super-thorough disease. Pennsylvania was the only state to employ a systematic removal plan, and they couldn't convince any other states to spend money on it. But later in the book, people she talks to say pretty certainly that cutting was a major factor in preventing the tree from weathering the blight. While most states didn't enact a formal program to destroy the diseased or threatened trees, the logging industry had been waging that war for decades anyway. Many resistant trees were surely killed simply because they were worth good money. Once they were doomed to die anyway, even people who valued their nuts saw no reason not to cash in on the lumber. It's a good example of the synergy between human forms of ecological destruction - in this case, logging and invasive species.
While Freinkel provided most of what I hoped she would, there were plenty of things I would love to have her talk more about. Perhaps some of this is specious, since the tree may have disappeared before these things were studied. But anyway: more about the ecology of the tree, how creatures interacted with the burs and nuts, where the tree grows and how it relates to other plants, and most especially how it evolved! Tim Flannery implied in The Eternal Frontier: an Ecological History of North America and Its People that the nut-squirrel ecosystem in North America was in some way unique, but he didn't get into how or how that happened. I would also have loved more on the cultural relationship between native American cuisines and economies and the chestnut. Besides all that, Freinkel did a good job, though.
How astonishing and emotional is it that chestnut trees killed by the blight a century ago have been putting up shoots every year since then, only to have them killed by the blight whenever they get big enough? So much trying, so much frustration. Poor trees.
I was lucky enough to see one of Powell's GM chestnuts at the NYBG the same week I read this book. They planted like a dozen last year, and all but one seems to have died, either completely or back to the roots.
I was recommended this book by my mother, an ardent gardener and lover of nature. From the start I was curious about it, and over the course of her reading it she shared many little tidbits here and there that only further piqued my interest. I was lucky enough to grab it from the library shortly after she finished the book, and together we've now embarked on our own minor mission to discover an American Chestnut in the wild. Only time will tell if we'll be successful. This is the sort of passion that this book has the ability to evoke, though. I firmly believe it will soon create a new generation infected with a brand of chestnuttiness.
The story of the American Chestnut is not a particularly singular story. Other trees and species have followed a similar fate, and therein lies the strength of the story itself. What the chestnut has that other plants and species do not, is an intrinsic weaving of its life with our own, and an all too quickly forgotten fate. This is a fascinating story, a very human story, and one that will ultimately affect how restoration and conservation goes in the future. Will the American Chestnut be brought back? I have faith it will, and that the passenger pigeon will as well. The question, however, is in what form will these things be brought back? It made me incredibly happy that Susan Freinkel discussed that issue in detail. It's one that will soon (hopefully) be a more common discussion.
This book is fascinating and really heightened my interest in trees and the complexities of them. Forestry, by its nature, is complicated and I'm glad that the author really discussed how vital every part of the ecosystem is to restoration. I would highly recommend this book to anyone and everyone - it has within it the chance to start some important discussions that more people should be participating in.
I, for one, look forward to the full return of this species.
More of a 2.5. It's a breezy little read written in that non-committal sappy way of human interest stories, which is fine if that's you're looking for in the book, but there's something poorly aged about that angle only 13 years after this book was published in 2007.
I. Symbolism
Take the title. It's not clear what's "perfect" about the American chestnut. What does it mean for a thing which exists to be perfect? Wouldn't that imply no need for change? But that's exactly the problem with the tree - it couldn't survive change. Or is it perfect because it represents America? In that case, if the Chestnut is a symbol of American purity, there are two issues.
1) The chestnut was a staple tree of the indigenous communities living in America prior to colonization. They go largely ignored by Freinkel except for a one-off reference at the very beginning, treated like they existed just to keep the seat warm for colonizers who they taught The Ways of the Chestnut. Those communities would be the true symbol of American purity then, not the idealized Appalachia of the 20th century, and it would be important to have their voices included in the history of the American Chestnut. Of course this is not that. It's a history of America in a chestnut. Which brings me to
2) It becomes increasingly uncomfortable to think about the implication that American purity (here translated as white landowners) was ruined by foreign agents in the form of the Chestnut Blight, and that a rigid program of genetic re-culturing was necessary to protect against this invasion and preserve the species. I'm not saying this was Freinkel's intention. It's hard to unsee the implications of this aesthetic choice however, and if you don't see the problem with this narrative of (white) American exceptionalism carved into a "perfect" tree I don't know what to tell you.
II. Material
Freinkel doesn't have a systematic critique of the forces at work in American Chestnut. She wants to be an environmentalist and against exploitation, it seems, but when you can only count trees as $ it's hard to stand firmly in favor of the environment. Hence why when she circles back on the cause of the loss of the American chestnut she's prone to primarily focus on historical globalist reason (for lack of a better term): international trade pre-genetics and committed forestry. It's why when mentioning the harms of surface mining on the environment she couches it in the legal requirement of mine operators to restore/remediate land they work on at cost.
What goes generally avoided (although she mentions in passing twice) is that it was the indiscriminate panicked rush to massacre the existing American chestnuts before they lost their economic value that likely had a heavy hand in their decimation. What is glossed over is that the federal law that mandates mine operators to restore land is functionally a trust system where states have primacy of oversight, effectively making it fangless, especially in regions where mining companies are the political power brokers. What must be deduced from these blind spots is that Freinkel is a sentimentalist for a dying species without a clear vision of the system that has been killing it. This book is best suited for one of those 5 Minutes of Hope spotlights that news stations loves to dispense as medicine for the jump scares they call coverage but which is actually ad revenue.
Overall
As something other than the quirky collection of a dozen technocrats, hard-nosed scientists, and fiscally-driven organizers, American Chestnuts fails to make a point. It takes less than a second to notice that the introduction begins by saying that "those that did bear witness to the tree's disappearance...were the rural poor" before introducing the first voice of the book as "the late Barney Barnhart, a wealthy Pennsylvanian businessman" who seems to embody the kind of privileged "chestnuttiness" that the book is interested in noticing. Not Others, the unheard. Not the vitality of the tree itself. Not its function in culture, society or economy - beyond the occasional price tag. Ironically, not even the way in which capitalism hampers the ability of researchers to research ways to preserve the species except towards future profits for paper/pulp companies: The Institute of Forest Biosciences Freinkel mentions in chapter 8 closed in 2019.
It points to a well-meant but uncritical trivia whose most engaging character almost encapsulates the spirit of this book. William Murrill was the first scientist to catalogue the Chestnut Blight and would use it as a pin in his cap when writing his congratulatory third-person autobiography despite being "remarkably unsentimental about the plight of the chestnut." It's pleasant, but its pleasantness feels like complacency. It's a grand shrug. I'm not sure what else could have been expected in as politically unconscious a time as 2007 though. What would this book have been in 2020, I wonder?
Wow. An absolutely magisterial book. I was riveted by the account of the chestnut tree's importance to Appalachian communities, ecosystems, and economies, especially since the main examples come from southern Virginia. It helped me understand how so many people subsisted in the mountains for generations.
The story of the chestnut blight's spread, and the ways scientists and politicians strove to counter it in the early 20th century, was reminiscent of covid's spread and the responses to it.
Many scientists and enthusiasts have tried to bring back the American chestnut, through tree breeding, gene manipulation, and biological control of the blight. I appreciated reading about the various methodologies used, as well as the relationships and conflicts between the scientists. Freinkel perfectly encapsulates the dynamic nature of a scholarly community, where everyone is striving toward a similar goal in different ways.
I wanted to read this book to learn more about the American Chestnut after “The Wild Trees” by Richard Preston peaked my interest. I wanted to learn more about the American Chestnut, the tree itself, the biology of it. However this book touches little on that and is instead a history of the disease which killed off the American Chestnut and all the things we have tried to bring it back. Very interesting to know the history but not exactly what I was looking for.
I like books about insurmountable problems and the people working on them with a sense of futility. I think if I read this book during more lockdown-heavy phases of COVID, it would have driven me insane.
The legacy of the American chestnut is as much cultural as it is botanical, as shown in Susan Freinkel’s superb book length study, American Chestnut: The Life, Death and Rebirth of a Perfect Tree (University of California Press, 2007). For the uninitiated, the American chestnut, the dominant tree of the Piedmont and Appalachian forest canopy of the eastern states prior to European settlement, was wiped out by the twin scourges of a root fungus in the mid-19th century and an Asian blight in the early-20th century.
The politics and in-fighting involved in the discovery, diagnosis and treatment of the chestnut blight are seedy and sad, a case of misspent energy and misguided actions. As a keystone species, the American chestnut supported a whole system of life which was greatly diminished and weakened with its disappearance. It has taken us too long, in respect to the chestnut blight, to realize a simple human evil can only be overcome by a great human good.
The story of the chestnut’s restoration is the story of men and women driven by something much deeper than personal profit. The specter of biotechnology and genetic engineering looms large and threatening over the attempts to restore the chestnut. While Freinkel in no way grasps the scope of ecological restoration’s complications, she at least mentions the difficulties faced by chestnut advocates in reintroducing the trees to their drastically altered native range. One criticism: Freinkel could have given even more historical context concerning the tree’s abandoned place in our culture.
I may be a little biased on this book because this is a subject that has always fascinated me. This is a comprehensive and absorbing account of the whole story of the American Chestnut. From a description of its admired qualities and its crucial role in rural Appalachia, to the arrival of the Asian-origin blight at the turn of the last century and the subsequent die off of an estimated three to four billion trees over the next twenty five years. But what is most interesting is the near century of work that has been done since trying to bring this tree, which was once as common as the oaks, back to Eastern forests.
Freinkel's research is well documented and meticulous, and she presents all sides, including some things that might surprise you. (For instance, a program that has found that tree saplings thrive on the loose, rocky soil scars of mountain-removal mining.) She admits to some of her biases, such as a discomfort at the possible implications of bioengineering efforts, but then goes on to report them clearly and without favoring her opinion. Most notably, she admits to never have caught the "chestnut bug" -- the infatuation with this tree that has led so many people to dedicate so much of their lives to restoring it. I am actually grateful for this, because it allows her to keep an impassionate viewpoint to everything.
In any case, a far more absorbing read than I expected. But then again, I am the type who gets all excited at finding chestnut sprouts in the forest, so I may not be the best judge.
Very interesting subject matter, and I thought the author was excellent. That's what you get when you have science writers writing on scientific subjects instead of partisans or journalists. You don't get much half-baked non-sense or misunderstandings of the subject. Freinkel interweaves her thoughts and observations throughout the story, but does not attempt anything more than an exposition of the subject at hand. The book is not a prescription, and I don't feel like it was lacking a prescription for the reader about how to act next.
Ultimately, the book was depressing (for me). I am a lover of forests, and the coda of the book only serves to remind me that even when we restore such an important tree as the chestnut, we have already lost more than can ever be replaced (and we're losing more, at an increasing pace, all the time). It seems the only true remedy to our abuses to nature will be human decline.
This was a very readable account of the blight and the current efforts to restore the tree. I hadn't realized that there were several different approaches being taken - let us hope that one succeeds in our lifetime.
A fascinating story about the near extinction of the American Chestnut due to the Chestnut Blight, and the ongoing struggle to restore the tree (even using gene technology!). Very interesting!
Enjoyable and enlightening account of the devastation that the loss of the American Chestnut played in Appalachian life and of the efforts to restore the species in the wild. This book certainly reveals how we humans have affected our environment. As a native of Patrick County, Virginia, the book was particularly interesting to me because the author interviewed people that I know in the area. There were a couple of very small errors that only a native would notice: the name of the wife of one of the sources was incorrect and a mountain was placed in the wrong county, among others. Minor, I know, but it kept me from giving the book four stars.
3 1/2 stars. I started this nearly five years ago and just now finished it. So I guess that tells you it's not exactly a page turner. I much preferred Freinkel's excellent "Plastic: A Toxic Love Story." However, this is still a worthwhile book--it just might be more interesting to a real tree aficionado than to someone with a casual interest. I did enjoy learning more about the history of the chestnut tree, the disease that killed it off, and the attempts to revive it. I have a special fondness for stories about people working in obscurity to pursue and improve upon their passions, like all the folks trying to bring back the American chestnut.
This was an enjoyable and informative read overall, but it did feel like the author left some pretty important questions and perspectives unexplored. A deeper probe into how nostalgia and cultural obsession around the American chestnut (at least as explored in this book nostalgia and obsession from primarily white men in academia) are used to justify the amount of resources and capacity poured into saving the American chestnut when so many other species and communities (both ecological and human) are in active crisis. There was a minor interesting chapter at the end that discusses the idea and discourse around environmental restoration, but that just felt like an add on.
A fine idea for a book. But it got kind of sloppy and tired before the end. Or maybe I did. It's kind of hard to tell sometimes. Telling the story of a chestnut has multiple paths and this book kind of tried to travel them all. There was the chronology across time. And the different approaches. And the personalities involved. And the different related species and their points of origin. But somewhere in this braid has to be a book and in the end this book got lost. And perhaps that's because as the tree seems like it is about to make a comeback, it also seems about to be gone forever.
Detailed and very readable history of a story we usually get the short version of. The author traced the development of many of the strategies for breeding blight-resistant chestnuts, and all the logistical and ethical dilemmas that each strategy raises. Considering all the other tree diseases we're facing today, and how well the book was done, I think this is a must-read for ecologists and tree people.
Super informative but lacks the poetry of The Overstory, one of my favorite books of late. The author and the people she interviews clearly have great love for the chestnut, but that love wasn't as infectious to the reader. Still enjoyable (also relatively short). Sobering reminder of the harms we have done our planet in the last 100 years.
Here is a book about the near death of a species and the efforts to revive it. It is also about what an obstacle course this revival has become. The book is a little old so read the book then read the internet to see how close to reality the dream has grown. The book is very informative and well written. Anyone interested in ecology should read this.
Fascinating. Intriguing. Maybe even inspiring. Very well written. I knew the basic outlines of the story of the American Chestnut and the Chestnut Blight before reading. In Sussex County, NJ I have seen numerous smaller American Chestnuts - some producing chestnuts (with their extremely sharp spined outer casings).
Read this book many years ago, but it certainly isn't a book for everyone. I enjoy reading and learning about plants because I grow plants for a living and went to school for it. This book is about the American Chestnut Blight that killed off nearly all of our native chestnuts, and how scientists are working on reviving it through modern science and genetics and breeding.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
It was a book club read from my boss, lol. I found some of it interesting. However, I wish the writing wasn't all over the place. It was hard for me to keep track of what year and who we were talking about. overall, it was amazing how many dedicated their life to try to bring back the Chestnuts and their journey of doing so.
A really interesting book about the history of the chestnut blight and efforts to restore the tree to its natural state. Amazing how his tree dominated the landscape of the East as recently as 120 years ago. A nice work of environmental history.
This book was an excellent balance of history and storytelling. I was aware of chestnut blight, but prior to reading this I was completely unaware of the trees former provenance and the impact on society and biodiversity.
An informative treatise on a species I knew nothing about--the American Chestnut. It's the tale of yet another ecological disaster and the hardworking and dedicated folks trying to save the species. A bellwether.
I was recommended this book when I began researching the American Chestnut. Upon completion, I have a greater understanding for the lore and emotional meaning of the tree. Difficult for me to get through though due to the lack of actual science discussed.