Thanks to NetGalley and Columbia University Press for the ARC!

Appropriately, Timothy Morton’s "Hell" is an inflammatory hot mess of a book.

Drawing on Dante, Milton, and Blake, the book (ostensibly) envisions a healthier relationship to the biosphere by dressing it in second-hand Christian and Buddhist iconography. It’s an exciting approach to a critical issue, and I found Morton’s reimagining of the divine both fun and interesting, as well as how they use it to critique “scientism” as its own form of religiosity. Or, as they put it, how they call for “a post-deist, that is to say, post-Enlightenment, indeed Blakean-Romantic, totally un-Hegelian fusion of Christianity and science, the complete opposite of intelligent design: the Stupid Accident theory.”

Based on that sentence alone, you probably have a pretty good idea of what "Hell" is like, and it's also where my appreciation ends.

This book is absolutely chaotic, proudly embodying a kind of squirrelly energy that will either entice or estrange readers. As an example, there’s a section in which Morton interrogates the etymology of “abba” as a name for God before suddenly saying our new name for the divine is “social media.” It’s a pivot that feels laughably unexpected and woefully irrelevant, sounding more like a 2014 evangelical youth pastor than anything else.

The frenetic nature of the text is mystifying; it’s written in the style of those professors who imagine themselves to be rockstars, unaware that they are frumpy, middle-aged, and a bit of a joke. That’s not a dig at Morton as an individual—those were my favorite professors. It is, however, an accurate summary of the kinds of digressions that populate the book, as the author attempts to unify almost every hot-button issue—from COVID vaccines to neo-fascism to AI—until it all slips out of their control.

Like many “grand re-envisionings” of sensitive topics, “Hell" feels limited by its preoccupation with cultural artifacts in lieu of their origin. Morton includes every one of their pop culture interests, but they rarely seem to enrich the conversation. To be frank, they often feel more like gestures towards relevance—“I know who Lil Nas X is. That’s cool, right?” Moreover, this book repeatedly circles around Trump, QAnon, and BLM, but their inclusion feels anachronistic and almost purely cosmetic. The alt-right icons simply feel unproductive, but the use of racial issues seems downright irresponsible. When Morton attempts to connect racism to speciesism, it rings disingenuous and reeks of the privilege of analysis without experience, and they are just as flippant in their use of sexual politics. As a whole, the author’s positionality often feels artificial—condemning white patriarchal structures without fully recognizing how much they enable this style of scholarship.

Ultimately, "Hell" is a letdown because it feels like there’s a premise here that would be fruitful if it were used responsibly in a book with a much tighter edit. In its current form, though, it parodies its own ecological urgency by reducing the climate crisis to a kind of pop cultural debate on par with children arguing about whether Batman could beat Superman in a fight.

That sounds like a joke, but I’ve probably forgotten a few pages in "Hell" that cover that exact subject.

Timothy Morton's latest work, “Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology”, offers an elaborate exploration of the interplay between religion, ecology, and spirituality. Building upon his previous works, particularly “Dark Ecology”, Morton takes readers on a journey that delves deeper into theology, drawing inspiration from the visionary Christianity of William Blake.

As a fellow admirer of William Blake, I found Morton's incorporation of Blake's poetry and engravings to be a highlight of the book. Blake's unique and often enigmatic interpretation of Christianity provides fertile ground for Morton's ideas to take root and flourish. Another unexpected companion in Morton's narrative is the music of British singer Laura Mvula, whose work served as a powerful soundtrack to my reading. Mvula's lyrics, with their poetic imagery and evocative language, are a fitting companion to Morton's exploration.

Morton's writing style is evocative and accessible, resembling more of a spoken discourse than a traditional academic treatise. However, there are moments when his arguments become tangled in complexity, making it challenging for readers to follow the thread of his reasoning (which might be something you are accustomed to if this is not your first time reading Morton).


At the heart of "Hell" lies a radical reevaluation of Christianity and its binary fostering interpretations. Morton skillfully elaborates on the nexus between religion, environment, ecology, and biology, challenging readers to rethink traditional notions of faith and salvation in the context of our current ecological crisis.

“Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology” is poised to become an important text in the field of eco-spiritual studies. While humanities scholars will undoubtedly find value in its insights, readers from all disciplines stand to benefit from its reflections on the urgent need for a planetary response to the climate crisis.

I sincerely thank NetGalley and Columbia University Press for granting me access to an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this thought-provoking work. It has been a privilege to engage with Morton's ideas ahead of its official release