If one is to refer to Caroline Levine’s definition of a form, The Overstory, as a novel, is a whole. Inside this whole, there is a multitude of other forms interacting with one another and structuring Powers’s (2018) narration. For one, the scene of Patricia’s testimony in the court is an excellent example of that: she confronts the network of law, one powerful form that forces her to obey. Patricia feels uncomfortable in the whole of a court room, being a part of a hierarchy, and knowing she is at the bottom of it. The fixed rhythm of continuous questions pressures her to delve deeper into her unique philosophy only to feel misunderstood. One might argue that she is unable to set her own rhythm of providing answers because she has to think before saying anything since Patricia knows her words can be used against her. Consequently, this mighty interweaving of forms that the situation presents creates a space in which Patricia feels weak and overwhelmed.
In a sense, Adam’s joining of the activist movement is him against the system just as much as Patricia. When applying Levine’s (2015) context to this passage, there is an established network, a part of which Adam’s friends want to make him. The ceremony of Adam’s joining has its own rhythm to it: starting with a song, it proceeds with words of dedication and ends with the making of a campfire. Adam is a part of a hierarchy, and is at its bottom, too; however, he becomes more of an equal to others as the night progresses. This connection of forms eventually makes Adam feel like he is a part of a whole and a kin. That distinguishes his situation from Patricia’s, who, because of the forms’ interactions in the court room, feels like a system’s enemy and an outsider. I believe that these two scenes demonstrate the ‘person vs. the juxtaposition of forms’ type of conflict, and this is why they are so important.
References
Levine, C. (2015). Forms: Whole, rhythm, hierarchy, network. Princeton University Press.
Powers, R. (2018). The overstory: A novel. W. W. Norton.