Dennis Ayan’s Cotton Seed Tree is an interesting atmospheric and psychological novel, looking at the liminal space between memory, perception, and reality. The novel focuses on Emma, a young woman expecting her first baby. Much of the book focuses on her memories and her thoughts, as her pregnancy and her secrets seem to mentally destabilize her. The novel has a dreamlike writing style, blending beautiful images and an ominously confusing atmosphere.

Emma is married to Mark, although it’s not particularly passionate or close between them. She meets Daniel, an appealing, almost magnetic, stranger who later reveals himself to be one of Mark’s old friends,  and things between them quickly turn romantic and passionate. Many of Emma’s thoughts consider both her identity as an unfulfilled wife, and as a participant in this intense and confusing affair. She looks at key moments in both relationships from different angles, and wonders about her role in her own story.

When Emma discovers she is pregnant, her mental questions multiply. Who is the baby’s father? Who does she want the father to be? There are hints that Mark may not be able to have biological children, but it’s not expressly clear that this isn’t his baby. A child by another man, though, would definitely destroy Emma’s marriage, and the volatile and manipulative Daniel would make a terrible father, even if he’s proud of impregnating her. Could she have a child with a different genetic father? How much does Mark know? Does Daniel love her, or does he just love playing these games?

The symptoms of pregnancy and signs of her coming child just destabilize her more. There’s a creepy sense of paranoia, with signs that either someone is stalking and threatening her, or she’s losing her grip on reality. Confusing, anonymous messages appear on her phone. Items aren’t where she left them. Is she just confused and preoccupied, or does she have an external enemy?

The cotton seed tree in the title is a recurring symbol in the novel. Its drifting white pods are at once innocent and menacing, clinging to Emma as reminders of how fragile her grip on reality has become. These seeds float without direction, just like how Emma drifts between Mark’s quiet stability and Daniel’s destructive passion, never able to commit to either. And the floating seeds will eventually become new trees, just like Emma’s pregnancy.

Cotton Seed Tree raises intriguing questions about memory and perception. It’s both relatable and deeply strange. In relatable moments, Emma feels like a realistic person. I think everyone has thought a new relationship or a new partner was perfect, only to question this feeling later, and wonder why we didn’t see their flaws earlier. This relatability makes it easier to care for Emma, and join her in her search through her memories and experiences, trying to understand herself. In her strange, unsettling experiences, the sense of curiosity keeps readers invested, even when it’s unclear whether Emma is experiencing a mental break or being threatened and tormented by someone close to her.