“The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”

― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

"Doing the right thing is boring, exhausting, and totally worth it in the long run."

― Film Crit Hulk, Twitter Post*


          People love them some martyrdom. It's noble. It gets you remembered. And it speaks to that little, almost negligible voice in your head that tells you to jump when you stand on the edge of a tall building. So naturally, the dramatic and ideologically simple world of Hollywood is full of martyrs. The silver screen teems with those who sacrifice themselves for what they believe in. William Wallace, Kyle Reese, The Iron Giant. But maybe that's crap. Maybe the people who make the most difference in the world aren't the ones who die for what they believe in, but the ones who live for what they believe in. And of those two types of people, Elzéard Bouffier is one of the latter.

          Bouffier's life is beyond humble. His job is to watch over animals. Any portion of time not spent tending to his flock is devoted to his true goal: to repopulate a desolate valley with trees. All day, he collects acorns, sorts them, and plants them in the arid soil. He expects only ten percent of his trees to survive. This notion does not deter him. Day after day, he plants hundreds and hundreds of acorns. Nobody is paying him to do this. Nobody even knows about it, save our narrator. Whatever he does, he does because he believes it is the right thing to do. Even when lush forests and thriving villages begin to spring up around him, the man never seeks recognition for his actions. He simply continues to plant trees. And in doing so, through sheer power of will, he becomes like as unto a god.

          The Man Who Planted Trees is not just a story of an extraordinary man. It is an imploration to us all, asking us to become more like Elzéard Bouffier. It asks us to plant our own trees, whatever form they may take. We should not rush blindly into the nobility of death, like our protagonist during the first World War. Instead, we should steer ourselves towards the humility of life. It will not be easy. It will be harsh and monotonous. Only ten percent of our efforts will bear fruition. And at the end of it, people may not be aware that we had anything to do with it at all. But it is undoubtedly the right thing to do. It creates beauty where thought impossible. It improves countless people's lives. It really is worth it in the long run. Only by living humbly can we hope to return water to the desert.



*Yeah ha ha this seems like a joke, but Film Crit Hulk publishes some of the most brilliant and insightful film articles on the web. Here's his piece on Gravity, which goes into the simplicity of the story and how it amplifies the visceral tone. I definitely had this piece in mind when I was writing my defense of Akira.