Executive Overview
In the literary landscape of contemporary short fiction, few works achieve the quiet, ecological resonance of Luis Ortiz’s short story "The Arborist," featured in The Missouri Review’s online-only biweekly series, BLAST. Blurring the boundaries between creative memoir, magical realism, and environmental commentary, the narrative centers on a peculiar, tree-obsessed young protagonist navigating the sterile, unyielding landscape of Greenwood—a small town with an apparent aversion to its own botanical history.
Through the narrator’s discerning lens, trees are not merely static elements of the background scenery; they are foundational pillars of existence, historical archives, and living monuments capable of harboring memory, grief, and spirit. As the protagonist moves from a densely arboreal city high-rise to the concrete-heavy grid of Greenwood, the story unfolds as a poignant exploration of displacement, intergenerational longing, and an unusual adolescent connection forged beneath the glow of both physical and phantom trees.
This review-style investigative feature examines the thematic underpinnings of Ortiz’s work, analyzing its commentary on modern urbanization, human alienation, and the enduring, quiet persistence of nature in an increasingly engineered world.
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Detailed Chronology: A Boy, a Town, and the Living Bones of the World
The Anatomy of Greenwood
The narrative establishes its thematic weight immediately, casting trees not through romanticized poetic tropes, but as functional, vital infrastructures of the planet. "A tree can become stone. It can turn into fire. It can purify water… Trees are the living bones of the world. This is not meant to be poetic."
This utilitarian yet deeply reverent perspective crashes against the harsh reality of Greenwood, a town defined by its hostility toward greenery. Within a month of the narrator’s arrival, a majestic forty-foot locust tree in front of the bank is felled simply to clear sightlines for a new commercial sign. Shortly thereafter, a century-old oak on Market Street is reduced to wood chips to expand a convenience store’s parking lot. Even accidental destructions—such as a drunk driver obliterating Mr. Moto’s Japanese maple—underscore a broader, systemic civic indifference to arboreal life.
The protagonist’s father, seeking a return to a "serener way of life," dismisses the ecological devastation, uprooting the family from a vibrant City neighborhood rich with foliage in favor of a town characterized by utility poles stripped of branches and laden with heavy wires. The father’s nostalgia for his childhood on a farm near Ponce, Puerto Rico, highlights a generational disconnect. While the father yearns for a pastoral past that can never be recovered, the protagonist—grounded in the present realities of a barber’s son—recognizes Greenwood not as a sanctuary, but as a "Deadwood."
The Glass Tree and the Antique Shop
Seeking solace amid alienation, the narrator wanders into a local antique emporium and discovers a thirty-inch, winter-bare glass tree. Purchased through a meticulous negotiation involving an entire jug of loose change, this delicate, nutty-brown creation becomes a central talisman in the protagonist’s sparse bedroom.
When morning sunlight filters through its translucent branches, the glass tree casts sepia-toned fingers across the walls, physically and metaphorically grasping the narrator. This inanimate object bridges a deep-seated emotional need, echoing the mother’s environmental ethos ("Trees are old magic") and contrasting sharply with the father’s pragmatic, rational dismissals of nature’s mysteries.
The Chalk Sketches and the Meeting of Minds
The narrative shifts into the social ecosystem of the local school, where the protagonist’s obsession manifests as exceptional talent. Challenged by a teacher to draw tree leaves, the narrator delivers precise, rapid chalk sketches of maples, oaks, elms, sycamores, and even the prehistoric Wattieza—the earliest known tree on Earth.
This display of botanical precision catches the attention of Vera, a tall, observant classmate with pigtails resembling ram horns. Like the protagonist, Vera is an outsider transplanted to Greenwood by familial circumstance. Their shared displacement lays the groundwork for an unexpected bond, rooted in a mutual willingness to entertain the impossible.
The Midnight Apparition
Vera shares a profound secret: she believes the stump in her backyard is haunted by the pale glimmer of a tree ghost that materializes in the dead of night. Rather than dismissing her claims as adolescent fantasy, the protagonist validates her experience, meditating on the generous nature of trees. "A tree can hold many things. The body of a tree, its soul, is generous to a fault. It may even accommodate ghosts, just as it does an owl or a squirrel."
During a meticulously planned midnight stakeout in Vera’s backyard, the two adolescents peer through the kitchen window into the gloom. In a fleeting, transcendent moment, both teenagers witness an inexplicable, neon-flickering phantom glow rising from the decaying stump—an ethereal echo of a twenty-six-year-old maple cut down years prior. This shared vision cements their alliance, bridging their shared alienation from the rigid sensibilities of the adult world.
Supporting Context & Metrics: The Author and the Literary Landscape
Behind the Prose: Luis Ortiz
To fully appreciate the layered textures of "The Arborist," one must look to the multidisciplinary background of its creator. Luis Ortiz’s career defies linear categorization; his resume includes stints as an advertising man, swimming coach, illustrator, lifeguard, typesetter, teacher, book editor, 911 operator, and art director.
As a teenager in New York, Ortiz published a Puerto Rican poetry zine titled X-ray Your Zebra (XYZ) using a tabletop postcard letterpress. Writing primarily in his second language, Ortiz infuses his fiction with the visual precision of an illustrator and the observational acuity of a first responder. His recent contributions to publications like LatineLit and Nonstop Press continue to explore themes of cultural displacement, memory, and the intricate relationships between humans and their environments.
Thematic Parallels in Contemporary Eco-Lit
"The Arborist" arrives at a critical cultural juncture. As urban sprawl, deforestation, and climate anxiety dominate contemporary discourse, modern literature has increasingly turned toward "eco-fiction" and botanical anthropomorphism to process ecological grief. Ortiz’s narrative avoids heavy-handed didacticism, opting instead for a deeply internal, character-driven examination of how human cruelty toward nature mirrors our cruelty toward individuals who refuse to conform.
The motif of the tree functions on multiple levels:
- As Historical Archive: Tree rings and root systems record environmental history, mirroring the psychological imprints left by trauma and displacement.
- As Resistance: The quiet, unyielding growth of trees—and the fierce protection of them by the protagonist—serves as a silent rebellion against industrial homogeneity.
- As Sanctuary: Against a backdrop of emotional isolation, the natural world offers an unconditional, non-judgmental refuge.
Official Statements and Critical Reception
Literary critics and editors have lauded BLAST for curating prose that pushes narrative boundaries. While formal critical releases for short stories often emphasize stylistic innovation, the reception of Ortiz’s work highlights its emotional resonance and thematic depth.
"Prose too vibrant to be confined between the covers of a print journal."
— The Missouri Review (TMR Editors on the BLAST Series)
Reviewers have particularly noted the distinct narrative voice of the protagonist—an unapologetic observer who refuses to soften his edges for the comfort of others. The friction between the father’s idealized memories of rural Puerto Rico and the son’s unromanticized botanical reality has been praised as a masterclass in generational portraiture. Furthermore, the inclusion of Leon Wyczółkowski’s historic artwork Study of a tree (1852–1936) as the title image grounds Ortiz’s modern narrative in a centuries-long artistic tradition of human fascination with arboreal forms.
Future Outlook: The Legacy of "The Arborist"
As "The Arborist" finds its permanent place within the digital archives of The Missouri Review, its broader implications for contemporary storytelling are clear. The story challenges readers to reevaluate their relationship with the natural infrastructure of their own communities.
Looking forward, Ortiz’s narrative serves as a vital reminder of the stories embedded in our landscapes. Long after towns like Greenwood pave over their histories in favor of convenience store parking lots and commercial signage, the "living bones of the world" continue to bear witness. Whether through the sepia glow of a glass desk ornament, the chalk-dusted precision of a classroom blackboard, or the flickering phantom of a backyard stump, Ortiz demonstrates that true reverence for nature requires us to look closer, listen deeper, and honor the ghosts of what we have allowed to fall.
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