Wednesday, May 22, 2013

My First Summer in the Sierra and “The American Forests”


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.

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