This book is such an odd mix of deeply peaceful landscapes, and deeply disturbing scenes. We see the world, mostly, through the eyes of Talmadge, a generous, quiet, but emotionally stunted orchardist, who puts as much thought and care into pruning his trees individually, and his orchard as a whole, as he does into maintaining and carefully shaping what few emotional attachments he has to others. Opposite him is the wild child who took refuge on his orchard, a survivor of some very terrifying trauma, and who spends the rest of her life trying to come to terms with that trauma. Talmadge is himself traumatized at an early age, by the loss of his mother and then his little sister; he has, one might say, an abiding need to nurture and protect those around him.

For all that it’s a rather difficult book, in some ways the Orchardist is also very uplifting and reassuring - in an “ashes to ashes” sort of way. That said, I did find that it dragged on a little bit, and there were parts that seemed unnecessary and just poorly edited. On the whole I enjoyed it, but wasn’t overwhelmed by its cleverness or lyricism.