Zachary Hand spends most of his time carving depictions of Biblical stories into a hollow tree on Apple Island, and this hollow tree symbolizes the importance of both art and religion to the islanders. In many ways, This Other Eden is itself a retelling of religious stories, taking the strongest inspiration from Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and Noah’s Ark (which also contains a great flood). Although Zachary is diligent about his work, he keeps returning to it to add more details, because he is never satisfied that he has depicted everything. This reflects how both art and religion are less about achieving specific goals and more about lifelong processes that require constant diligence.
Additionally, trees have special significance on Apple Island. Apple trees are what initially allowed settlers to live on the island, and a large tree was the lifeline that allowed many members of the Honey family to survive the great flood. Zachary Hand makes this connection between trees and survival even more literal by using the hollow tree as a house. Because the tree is full of artistic depictions of religious stories, it also represents how art and religion connect to survival. At the end of the novel, Zachary Hand decides to burn his hollow tree himself rather than let government employees burn it, symbolically offering his life’s work up to God rather than leaving it behind for white men who wouldn’t understand it. Ultimately, the hollow tree symbolizes how art, religion, and nature all intersect on Apple Island, sustaining the islanders.
The Hollow Tree Quotes in This Other Eden
Zachary worked by the light of a candle. As the carvings rose higher up the tree, he made them narrower and more convoluted in order to draw out the composition of each figure and scene so he would not run out of space before he ran out of mortal time, so that he would not complete a work at which he felt more and more he should finish his days laboring, dying as he etched the most elegant possible toes for a barefoot mother weeping for her child.
Zachary turned away and walked across the island toward where his house and the others were nearly done burning. The men from the mainland had missed Zachary’s tree so he went to it and got inside. He closed his eyes and ran the pads of his fingers across the carvings as if to decipher them by touch. He opened his eyes and followed the radius of each band of pictures. Really, they were crude. Most of the intricacies and nuances of expression and gesture and architecture and decoration had been those of his thoughts while he’d carved. Very little of the finesse of his ideas had made its way into the wood, he saw now. He gathered his candle and cross. He knelt and cupped up a cone of wood shavings and set it burning with his flint and steel. Smoke rose into the darkness of the hollowed trunk then refluxed and began pulsing from the opening. Zachary watched the fire grow until he was certain it would not smother, then headed for the water.