In Chapter 23 of Howards End, the wych-elm tree on the estate is personified and described with intense and paradoxical visual language. Through this, it seems to embody the English life Margaret Schlegel desires, as it makes the tree seem friendly and the house welcoming:
It was neither warrior, nor lover, nor god; in none of these rôles do the English excel. It was a comrade, bending over the house, strength and adventure in its roots, but in its utmost fingers tenderness, and the girth, that a dozen men could not have spanned, became in the end evanescent, till pale bud clusters seemed to float in the air. It was a comrade. House and tree transcended any similes of sex. [...] [T]o compare either to man, to woman, always dwarfed the vision. Yet they kept within limits of the human.
The enormous tree is described as if it is an ordinary English person: a “comrade,” not a “god.” The repetition of the word "comrade" creates an inviting atmosphere, as it implies that the tree (and the house it stands over) are not just inanimate objects but are friendly to Margaret. This personification of the tree suggests that it isn’t separate from the lives of the people who live in Howards End, but rather has a positive and active influence over them.
The description of the wych-elm also uses nationalistic language. Stating that the English do not excel in the roles of "warrior, nor lover, nor god” implies that they do excel at being “comrades.” This seems more desirable here, as the reader knows that Margaret is discontented with the grandiose imperialist ambitions of those around her. She wants to live a simpler, warmer life. Howards End and its surroundings seem to suggest that this is a possibility. This description of the tree invokes a different aspect of English life for Margaret, one that is focused on home and not concerned with colonizing other countries.
The wych-elm is described as being both old and young, strong and soft, presenting the reader with a series of paradoxes. The tactile and visual imagery in Forster’s language presents the tree as “bending over” the house as a “comrade,” while having "strength and adventure in its roots.” The reader gets a sense of its enormity and its fragility through this juxtaposition. Although it is huge, with "girth, that a dozen men could not have spanned," it also has "tenderness" in its "utmost fingers.” Even its roots, which hold it to the ground, have “adventure” in them. Like the idealized England Margaret imagines, it is both ancient and full of new life, rooted to history and able to grow and change.
