Following Carolyn Merchant's lead, we spent considerable time reading this famous John Gast painting tonight. I hope you had as much fun as I did doing this interpretative work!
We decided that, as the title "American Progress suggests, the narrative argument of this painting furthers the story of westward expansion that a progressive version of history might champion--hunters fight off Native Americans, making way for settlers, which is followed by agriculture, and eventually trains, commerce, and civilization. We also crafted a antithetical or declensionist narrative in response to the painting, noting that this version of history doesn't do justice to the genocide implied in this westward colonial march, nor does it tell the ecological history of the decline of the buffalo, the Dust Bowl, or the laundry list of environmental problems associated with industrialization. Seen from one angle, this painting depicts the advent of a great nation; seen from another, it depicts the unjust use of force and ideology by one culture over another, leading to great ecological trouble.
Based on this good discussion, I tried to ask what I think will be the central question of our course. Namely, I wanted you to think about stories from American environmental history that might help us better address future ecological problems. We could argue that the declensionist reading of this painting might serve as a one such cautionary tale, reminding us not to overreach in our quest for progress. This might help us, then, tell a story what would "help perpetuate life from the land" in the future, to borrow Merhcant's phrasing. That is, we might avoid a future dustbowl, say, or we might argue that our lives would be better if we avoid destroying cultures that have stories about how to effectively perpetuate life from the land. The question for us to ponder this semester, then, is whether the wilderness story--that is, the history of the idea, the politics, and narrative implied in the word--is a story that might similarly help guide our behavior. As I scribbled on the board, that is, does the wilderness story help us perpetuate life from the land?
My hunch is that our reading of Roderick Nash will help us answer this. I think his answer is a yes--and I suggested tonight that it will be fairly enthusiastic yes--but I hope you can use the tools and questions Merchant offers to really engage with Nash's famous book.
As a reminder, you should read the preface, introduction, prologue, chapters 1-3, 12-14, and the epilogue. This is about 200 pages of reading--I hope you find it engaging and fun. I look forward to reading your questions and answers about the book in the comments here.
Should we buy into the idea of civilization versus wilderness?
ReplyDeleteMy initial answer to this question was to say that although wilderness is subjective, civilization would ultimately overcome it. But, then I started to think that what it really comes down to is a waiting game. Eventually humans will aide in climate change to the point where the Earth is uninhabitable. But just because humans won't be able to survive doesn't mean wilderness won't.
The ideas and beliefs of wilderness have changed drastically over many years. It started out being a frightening place full of horrible monsters and witches and progressed to be a sanctuary, a place of spirituality. What will wilderness be like when that’s all that is left? Will there still be “wilderness” since there won’t be anybody to distinguish between it and other areas?
Can we have an idea of wilderness and an appreciation for wilderness without having civilization?
ReplyDeleteI believe that it would be difficult to define something as wilderness if we did not have civilization to compare it to. Even though it can be argued that a city could be seen as a wilderness to come people I think that the large appreciation for wilderness and the definition of wilderness its self would have come into existence with out civilization. At one point in the book Nash talked about how native people living off the land in harsh conditions had no concept of wilderness at. Wilderness is something that is different from civilization in every way. In civilization human impact can be seen everywhere. There is a lot of technology present in civilizations where in wilderness there is not. Wilderness was not designed or conquered by humans and that's why I believe that those who lived in harmony with the wilderness did not have the same concept of it as people living in cities did. Wilderness to them was not something that they needed to overcome or were afraid of it was just where they lived. Much like cities and towns are nothing for people who live in them to be afraid of, they are just home.
Where is the line between wilderness and civilized life?
ReplyDeleteAre you in the wilderness if you have a cabin in the middle of the woods maybe with a family or a small group of people who live off of the land hunting, fishing, and gathering with minimal interference with the land? Living off of the land in ways like knowing if you are in a low land with a river that has a good possibility of flooding so instead of building up the banks around the river you move to higher land with less of a chance of flooding. I feel like doing things like this allow you to be more in harmony with the land because the alternative changes so many aspects of the environment. First if this place floods often then it probably makes the land in the area far more fertile and changing the flooding by building up banks and stopping it might stop crop growth in the area and at the same time stop certain animals from coming to the areas. Sure it may make it easier to live in the area but you have changed so much by living there. Where is the line of minimal interaction yet still living off the land? its lost in the little details like what does it mean to "Improve the quality of life" in an area. Who are you improving it for? the animals? yourself? I believe the word "wild" is in the word "wilderness" for a reason. Keeping the land relativity the same is an important aspect to wilderness but it doesn't mean you can't be there at the same time. Preserving land is a joke. If all people could understand that reaping certain parks of the environment for personal growth should be frowned on then their wouldn't have to be national parks and the definition of the word wilderness would actually make sense to me. I think that traditionally human interaction in good ways was definitely a part of the word wilderness. So where is the line between civilization and wilderness? I believe the line is in each person and it has to do with morals and a general understanding of actions and reactions. Every change you make to a piece of land may benefit you but who does it hurt?
Would you rather be the villain (one who stands for wilderness) or the hero (one who pioneers for civilization)?
ReplyDeleteBest said by Andrew Jackson: "What good man would prefer a country covered with forests and ranged by a few thousand savages to our extensive Republic, studded with cities, towns and prosperous farms, embellished with all the improvements which art can devise or industry execute"(Nash 41). Nash brought forth many of the basic ideas behind wilderness such as romanticism, primitivism, civilization, pioneers, and many more. He eluded to the fact that many of those who have tried to "preserve" or are very passionate about everything to do with wilderness are outcast from society and civilization but ultimately are praised for their work in the future. For example, Robert Marshall who received his master's degree in forestry from Harvard was characterized in Nash's perspective, "...as a radical, especially among professional foresters, but they proved to be harbingers of subsequent national policy" (Nash 204).
Today, a person who strongly believes in wilderness will still be criticized like Marshall was some 50 years ago. Based on my own personal beliefs, I would be a villain. When I think of a villain I think of a person who is continually doing radical acts in most times against his or her own people. Just because an act is radical doesn't mean it is always bad. Trying to "preserve" the land that is left on this earth for our own survival as a race is a significant issue, while we are trying to coexist. I don't think that "preserving" our own wilderness is radical; moreover, I think that "preservation" is necessary for all people to flourish.
Can wilderness have fair representation in what is ultimately a anthropocentric society?
ReplyDeleteAn unfair line is drawn in the sand between civilization and wilderness. That is to say, we classically consider ourselves the stewards of land, therefor we must protect the wilderness from ourselves. Unfortunately, mankind is incredibly fallible. If you think about it, we have been trying to build a utopia for ourselves for the better part of the last ten thousand years, and have yet to get it right. Yes, some folks get to live in luxury, but always at the cost of others. If we can't manage a fair society within our own species, how are we to manage our new second class citizen wilderness in the mix?
Does the Definition of Wilderness solely rest with the definitions given by European settlers?
ReplyDeleteI've noticed a trend that through the literature we have read so far that the definition of Wilderness has been one that seems to come solely from the European perspective/European Settler perspective. The big question I am curious about is whether this is because wilderness is truly a European based concept or if the definition and use of Wilderness was recorded in popular vernacular by any other civilization or part of the world. If this is not the case, than why was it something primarily derived from European civilizations?
Does the idea of civilization depend on wilderness?
ReplyDeleteRobert Marshall's idea that,"The basic importance of wilderness was its capacity for meeting human needs that civilization left unsatisfied" (202), was of particular interest to me. Thus far we have defined wilderness under the premise that it is what civilization is not. My thought is that wilderness was here before our time and will doubtlessly out live us. Doesn't it make more sense then to first define wilderness and then define civilization as the "other"? Wilderness provides what civilization lacks. Without it we lack the well rounded experience humans need. Each environment provides what the other lacks. That being said, I cant help but think that although the human psyche suffers under the constraints of civilization, thus requiring wilderness, is civilization necessary for a human to flourish in wilderness? Maybe, maybe not. I certainly don't crave the amenities of civilization as desperately as a crave the wilderness. But perhaps I would if they weren't so readily available.
ReplyDeleteHow has the depiction of wilderness found in literature, religion, and mythology affected our ever-changing perspective on wilderness? Has the effect been a positive or negative one? What would be different about our idea of wilderness if early literature depicting wilderness as all things evil had not existed?
I found it very interesting to see how much Nash spoke of mythology and religious texts and their affect on our view of wilderness. It really did seem to be a kind of fear-mongering; a way to keep people out of the dark, so to speak, and to be ignorant about the places outside of their homes and city areas. As Nash says, “To frightened eyes the limbs of trees became grotesque, leaping figures, and the wind sounded like a weird scream, “ (p.10-11). I think this comes from our tendency in mythology and fairy tales to label things as either good or evil, and wilderness unfortunately got grouped into the evil side. These sorts of depictions of wilderness really negatively effected our relationship with the wilderness. Fear is a very useful tool, and is used still today to get us to be afraid to learn about certain things. The morals of Christian texts also prompted people to believe that wilderness was an evil thing. This protestation certainly was very effective in making people fine with treating wilderness as property. Early Christians would even clear wild forests just to rid the land of the places where pagans held their rites. The less of it, the less evil there will be in the world, seemed to be the general logic.
However, literature also has had a positive effect on the views of wilderness. Without texts like Nash’s, which I understand to be a very influential one, the masses may not be as educated about what is going when it comes to wilderness politics and history. Modern dystopian novels often depict a world where the wild places are all used up, warning the reader to preserve the wilderness we have left. A compelling story can be a huge influence on our society. It can drive people to clear an entire forest or to chain themselves to a tree in order to save it. If our society been founded upon a more romantic idea of wilderness, perhaps it would be in better shape than it is today. Of course, romantics were not exactly the most in touch with reality, so maybe it would’ve been the opposite. Would the concept of wilderness even need to exist in a world full of romantics? Would we have a need for a definition of wilderness, or would we just live alongside it, with no voice in the back of our heads saying that there is something evil outside our front doors?
However, there are also other pieces of literature such as Martin Kreiger’s 1973 essay entitled, “What’s Wrong with Plastic Trees?” which intend to soothe our guilty consciouses. The modern dialogue about wilderness seems to be both “Save the wilderness!” and “Look at all these weirdo hippies trying to save the wildnerness”. It’s a strange time of conflicting ideals, driven partly by our modern literature.
LEah
Wildernism: wilderness as a concept of faith?
ReplyDeleteReading the chapter about Romanticism where wild nature is described as a new paradise, close to what people used to call „Garden Eden“, I came to think of the wilderness as a religion. As Deism did.
Not only Romantic artist but preservationists as well use to describe wild places with words such as „pure“ or „sublime“. A place where human beings can get insights as well as experience big delight. I was impressed of the relentlessness and the stamina of the preservationist’s movement – some outstanding personalities devoted or are still devoting their whole life to the rescue of wilderness. I guess that these people needed a big faith into wilderness which allowed them to achieve what they have achieved.
I wondered why. Where do these people take their convictions from? Wilderness is not something concrete, as Nash mentions. It is a concept, an idea created by human (American?) minds. Wilderness is not something seizable, it is figurative.
There are more concrete arguments against wilderness than for it. Most of the arguments in favor of wilderness are built on top of the belief that wilderness has a value. Nash mentions in his preface that „wilderness was valued and preserved for people.“ The value of making people happy. The value of preserving a certain balance between nature and humans. It seems almost like an utopia to me.
Fighters for the wilderness like Marshall often, they had everything they needed and could afford a comfortable life. Probably, wilderness gave them a meaning in their life.
Can ‘we’ (and/or the American Mind) make the distinction between nature and wilderness?
ReplyDeleteWe’ve talked about how our ideas of wilderness are bound to our ideas of civilization. I think another way of putting it is Civilization = A and Wilderness = -A. I suppose those two can be inverted depending on what you wanted A to symbolize, such as Order or Chaos. In either case, the point is that wilderness is the antithesis, or antipode as Nash likes to use, of civilization, and is defined not by what it holds in and of itself, but how it is the negation of civilization. Part of my point is addressing it in that fashion is that I don’t think nature should be defined in that manner, nor do nature and humanity need to be set up in opposition.
A second point, which is partially tangential:
An interesting parallel for me to draw is the perception of wilderness and the perception of indigenous peoples, and not necessarily just in how they are linked. For instance, Nash points out that the appreciation for nature started in the cities, by those who weren’t actively engaged with the land itself. It was when it had become a distant reality that the environment, nature and wilderness became something to appreciate. In the same manner, one could trace relations between Euro-Americans and indigenous peoples, in that indigenous people become romanticized when distant, but then demonized when close. When natives were on the edge of the forest, so to speak, they were feared and thus demonized. When they were on reservations and no longer posed the same level of threat, they were noble relics that held so much wisdom and sacredness. There is something in the immediacy and presence of these things that changed and changes the relationship.
Going back to my original point about the relations and distinctions between nature, wilderness and civilization, and tying it into my second point: Part of the implication of the assumptions and definitions of wilderness and civilization, is that other societies that don’t have this same relation are often therefore defined as uncivilized.
There is more to be explored in these tangents. There seem to be distinctions within the ordered and unordered within Tlingit society as well, but to what degree is something to be explored. Such nuances would take more than 12 minutes though.
Phillip Moser
ReplyDeleteAlaska was one of the very last states integrated into the United States of America. As such, it was able to benefit from a long and varied history of environmental protection in the United States. Between that, the remote nature of the landscape, and the inhospitable environment, Alaska’s vast reserves or wilderness were comparatively easy to obtain. Does this change the meaning of wilderness to the average Alaskan?
President Woodrow Wilson gave the go-ahead to purchase the Alaska territory from Russia in 1867. Between then and Statehood, Alaska received its first influx of visitors from the gold rush at the turn of the 20th century. Thousands of hopeful Americans streamed up to the Yukon, entirely unprepared for the stark and unforgiving environment they found. Similar to the pioneers of the old west, many found themselves reverting to awe at the vast forests, rolling tundra, and massive glaciers they found. Unlike the earlier pioneers, few thought of making a life up north. There was no sense of manifest destiny, of conquering the wilderness. When most turned up next to nothing for their impressive efforts to strike gold, they would flee back to the lower forty eight. It wasn’t until 1958 that Alaska gained statehood, and it would be a while still until the discovery of oil would bring the next influx of workers. Today, most towns and cities in the state have settled into established communities from centers of industry and profit. Those of us that do remain eke out a very scant distance from true wilderness. Wilderness, rather than a force to be conquered, is home. It’s where we work and play. It’s a matter of identity. Even in Anchorage, the state’s largest city, mountains loom large in the distance, and moose pose an occasional traffic hazard.
The national government has had authority over most of the land in the state, and has established wilderness areas for vast portions for most of our history. Compared to places like Montana, the state is not riddled by property ownership and exploitation. This law may rankle some, but the fact of the matter is that this non-ownership by the common man makes Alaska one of the easiest places to establish the concept of Deep-Ecology and Environmentalism. More than any other state, the cultural history of Judeo-Christian duty to divide and multiply has been held in check.