My
First Summer in the Sierra
John Muir presents nature commentary
blended with scientific notations. Muir’s
blending of flora and fauna is novel because animals are made to seem natural
while man, suffering from a veneer of civility, must struggle to reacquaint
himself with the outdoors and, in turn, his own God-given innate
qualities. I say Muir is novel because
animals theretofore (before Muir) had been represented as primal and
uncivilized while man was God-like and needing to be increasingly civilized
(including various native peoples around the world). Muir prefigures, in a pre-Modernist sense,
the idea that Western man as animal is capable of primal instincts, and that
our innate, God-given qualities allow us to accomplish much or destroy much. Muir takes off his shoes and stockings at one
point—he becomes one with nature, and in the process the various layers of
staid, nineteenth century civilization fall to the wayside.
Muir actually attributes human
qualities like happiness to the animals.
In fact, happiness seems to the abiding anthropomorphic quality of the
various creatures he observes. Muir
re-attributes purpose to animals and gives man a new role: chronicler of
natural history and observer of present-day plants, trees, and animals. The theme of the commentary is conservation—that
plants and animals must be cherished, protected, and enjoyed, not disregarded
and forgotten. For example, at one point
Muir mentions mastodons from a former era.
The mastodon would have been a new concept to nineteenth century readers
because the science of reading old bones was so new. Muir embraces the science of natural history because
he believes that studying the past is the key to preserving and protecting the future.
Muir as nature diarist incorporates
multiple disciplines: scientist, rhetorician, poet, and chronicler. Muir’s writings have the ring of the Book of
Genesis in that the animals seem as new as the day God created them. Muir seamlessly blends past and present in
nature such that images conjured in our imaginations make us more appreciative
of what we can go out and see today.
Muir drapes his commentary in origins: that of nature and that of man,
and that both come from God. The latent
allegory here is that the happy creatures of God need protection by man and
must not be hunted to devastation. Man
is capable of much evil. His attitude
towards nature is the best encapsulation of his own nature. In other words, only by reacquainting
ourselves with nature may we as mankind rid ourselves of the evils of the
twentieth century: genocide, world-wide wars, exploitation, and extinctions.
Perhaps if Muir were to talk to us
today he would say that the twentieth century was indeed a lost cause, but we
have the power to make the twenty-first century worthy of the majesty summed in
his pages. We are indeed worthy of this
marvelous responsibility but only by working together. Muir does not forget the Lord, nor does he
forget man’s personal role in caring for the Lord’s creation. What a wonderful, wonderful message! And I think that is something of which we as
a people are capable.
“The American Forests” (From Selected Essays*)
Part environmental panegyric, part outdoors
American jingoist sendup, part geographical overview of emergent,
trans-national conservation trends, “The American Forests” is John Muir’s
treatise on the importance of government intervention in protecting forestry by
inscribing first in laws and also in industry the protections endemic to saving
our national treasures, to wit the redwood, the live-oak, and the cedar. Muir looks not only to Europe but also to Asia
in his survey of late nineteenth century governments seeking to protect forestry
as a means of not only sustaining natural resources but also burnishing
national heritage. Muir prefigures in a
very prescient way the connection between ruination and contamination; in other
words, that by destroying a forest, we destroy our God-given blessing and in
turn corrupt the God-given nature inherent in the soul of everyone. The American forest is Muir’s stand-in, his
synecdoche, his pars pro toto, for
the American approach to conservation and protecting the environment. The forest is such an impressive stand-in for
the totality of nature, that when Muir opens his piece by describing the
breathtaking, seemingly endless beauty of American topography, my mind
immediately returned to my pre-matriculation days as an undergraduate when I
trekked through the Appalachians. I
remember climbing to the top of a mountain and observing the sea of green in front
of me. I was amazed. Muir’s writing recalls in me that same
feeling.
Muir acknowledges the inevitability
of man’s ownership of nature. In a very
Progressive fashion, Muir privileges government over private ownership; it is
no surprise the manner in which the seeds of conservation might have been sown
in the mind of then-Vice President and soon-to-be President Theodore Roosevelt
in 1900 when this essay was published.
Muir excels in metaphor. When he concludes
with the “Uncle Sam” personification, Muir summons the mythical, allegorical
fighting spirit of the nation to remind us that the best of what we are as a people
is what the pilgrims found upon their landing: green forests, lush landscapes,
and untouched vistas. (In Muir’s
estimation, the Native Americans arrived significantly close to the pilgrims’
landing so as not to have much of an effect on the environment.) The major challenge of the twentieth century
was, then, preservation, conservation, and environmentalism. Muir masterfully uses metaphor to make the
nineteenth century reader environmentally self-aware, a quality we as
twenty-first century readers take for granted.
Symbolism continues to be very
important in environmentalist rhetoric because it not only focuses the
attention of the lay reader, it also allows the essayist to engage in
discussion of the effect of the military-industrial complex on the environment
by usage of familiar terms like “Navy” and processes like logging which conjure
images of environmental desolation. The
thread of Muir’s argument is that only American laws will protect the
environment from ruination at the hands of private industry and the
military. What is ironic is that Muir’s
words continue to be as powerful as any specific piece of pro-environment legislation. Inspiration trumps legislation.
*I didn't realize we were restricted to the first portion of the book until after I had completed writing this.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.