Abstract
In the context of the Anthropocene – in an era of climatic and ecological uncertainty – there is a common refrain: the stories we tell matter. They matter in the traditional sense in that they are symbolic; they provide us with much needed motivation and orientation. However, they also matter in the sense that they animate the world around us; they carry with them material-discursive weight. Ghosh’s book begins with the simple question: If climate change is the most important issue of our time, then why is it largely left out of the stories we tell ourselves? As an acclaimed Indian novelist, Ghosh is speaking specifically about the world of literary fiction and makes the case that climate inaction and climate’s absence in fiction may be linked. More broadly, he argues that the era in which we live, marked by irreversible geologic thresholds and teetering on the brink of ecological tipping points, may be remembered by future generations as The Great Derangement.
The book is divided into three large sections: (1) Stories, (2) History, and (3) Politics. The first section outlines how the stories we value – the ones that appear in year-end reviews and ‘best of’ lists – largely reflect our socio-cultural values. While this may appear intuitive, he indicates that literary fiction’s increasing inability to deal with collective action and the move toward individualized storylines shadows similar values in Western society over the past few decades. This trend is especially problematic given the extent of global climate change. He uses the lenses of history and politics to further drive home this point.
While I could mention any number of useful insights from this book, I will highlight just two. First, rather than focusing on the inevitability of the Anthropocene, Ghosh discusses how stories – and particularly the issue of which stories get told and valued – have shaped our predicament. Second, and related to the first, he nuances arguments suggesting that global climate change is the direct result of capitalist production by pairing it with empire. To this end, he suggests, ‘even if capitalism were to be magically transformed tomorrow, the imperatives of political and military dominance would remain a significant obstacle to progress on mitigatory action’ (p. 146). This drives home the geopolitical complexities of climate change, and further proves why the stories we tell about it matter.
There is much to like about Ghosh’s book. However, it does sometimes read as an extended thought-in-progress, making it difficult to follow in places. Moreover, while the book is fascinating because of its ability to address the multi-faceted questions of our current predicament, it also falls short in its ability to tie together answers in its conclusions. Still, the meandering nature of the text allows it to cover a wide array of pressing topics and ideas within the span of a relatively short and immensely readable book.
Literary fiction is seldom found in the geographer’s toolbox, but Ghosh makes a compelling case for the power of storytelling in his book. Despite its length, this book manages to touch on culture, politics, power, capitalism, empire, climate change, and the Anthropocene to name a few keywords. As we continue to grapple with the realities of what Ghosh considers in The Great Derangement, it will be increasingly important to pay attention to the stories we tell ourselves.