Gaspard Koenig, Humus

Gaspard Koenig © AFP

Koenig sets out to write a novel on contemporary ecology and ends up with something that just fits the current mood—a book that claims to think, but really just circulates familiar ideas everyone already knows. Honestly, the starting point sounds pretty solid. You get two agronomy students, Kevin and Arthur, each heading down totally different paths to rethink our relationship with the earth: one bets on the market, the other goes all-in on radical cultivation. It sets the stage for a clash—green capitalism versus hardcore ecology. Except, that clash never happens. The conflict is announced right away, then shown, but never actually built up. Instead of real drama, the novel just hands out positions. Characters in this story are more like concept carriers. Kevin’s the eco-entrepreneur, Arthur sticks to the land. Their journeys don’t really collide—they just follow a script. There’s no surprise. No inner struggle. No real change. Instead of discovering a situation, the reader just recognizes a framework. Because there’s no real conflict, the narration loses any sense of urgency. You don’t feel pushed to follow these characters to the end; their stories are obvious from the moment they’re introduced. This weakness gets even clearer in how the book handles ecology. Soil, humus, worms—these are supposed to make us think about materiality, slow change, transformation. But they never go beyond simple motifs. The book brings them in, but never really digs into them. Even the writing style—quick, clear, efficient—adds to the problem. Sure, it makes the book easy to read, but it never thickens the story. The writing supports the ideas but never pushes them, never complicates things. Smoothness turns into a flaw when it blocks any spark or friction. Koenig tries to balance novel and essay. That balance isn’t there. The book doesn’t have the rigor of real analysis or the punch of real fiction. It sits comfortably in the middle, easy to read, but never daring to shake things up. Humus feels like a finished text before it even starts. Answers show up before questions, positions before situations. What’s missing isn’t the right intention or even a relevant topic. What’s missing is real work.