A revelatory novel (or parable) of art, adventure, and radical politics, set in a world on the precipice.
A philosophical fable, Crocosmia centers on Maya as she recollects the “great turning”—a moment of radical social and ecological change effected in part by the art of her mother, Jane. As Maya recalls her upbringing—from a commune run by anarchist nuns to a time of rural isolation before her mother’s disappearance—Mellis’s prose gorgeously conjures a life defined by revolutionary thought and action and the interplay and tension between family life and political commitment. At once a fantasy, a handbook to political thought, and a work of eco-fiction, this lush novel meditates on how, in a world on the precipice, dreams of communal care can bloom.
Crocosmia is a bright, hardy flower that appears in damaged landscapes. This story—centered on a fantasy of killing all the patriarchal “heads of state” at once and then patiently describing how a post-capitalist society might repair and reorganize itself—hits a philosophical, fable-like register. Mellis’s prose is lush and often incantatory, blending political theory with speculative worldbuilding and associative “architectures,” so that reading it feels both elliptical and conceptually dense. In that sense the characters are almost deliberately forgettable; they function less as psychologically rounded individuals than as emblems, voices, and positions within the larger visionary argument about abolitionist politics, ecological remediation, and the liberation of consciousness. Does it work for me? Not really. But I admire it anyway.
I feel like this book is the type that has so much it can’t be appreciated on the first read; I certainly did not. I knew it was because of certain concepts I didn’t understand, and this book appears light but really requires in depth analysis. Maybe on a reread I may score it higher.
“They built a deck around a cedar hundreds of years old with a swerving trunk, a “leave” tree spared from logging because of its inconvenient sway, unconducive to milling, too wildly grained, giving a lesson in how to escape the predations of industry.”
Genuinely what is this book even trying to say. It goes from “private property doesn’t exist” to “beheading world leaders for the revolution” to “video games are bad” within five pages of each other
Put me down with those who wanted to love this book, but just couldn't do it. Word salad is maybe a little harsh, but each paragraph is a chaotic tumble of loosely connected words. There is also a disconcerting combination of naive earnestness and a callous, burn-it-all down mentality I'm used to finding in very young online groups where "guillotine the billionaires" is a serious, primary policy proposal. I am afraid I will not be continuing with this one.
A hopeful story about a more cooperative, more ecological approach to human society that emerges after the "Great Turning." Told mainly through exposition and summary, so very slow moving.
Crocosmia's trance was so mesmerizing, once I fell into it I often forgot I was reading. It felt more like a song. And I think that's special because while this book is political and critical of a capitalistic hellscape, it's actually really hopeful and utopian and fitting within these dreamy lyrics. If you choose this book my suggestion is you allow it to take you for a ride rather than forcing it to be whatever you think a book is. I hope you're pleasantly surprised.