Cronon’s introduction of the wilderness as being constructed in our image, which he acknowledges is the image of the “elite tourist and wealthy sportsman” really drew me in as a reader (79). I am very interested in Milton’s use of images and reflections in Paradise Lost, especially in discerning “good” images and reflections from “evil” ones. Cronon acknowledges the difficulty of seeing the wilderness as unnatural and a construction since it “hides its unnaturalness behind a mask that is all the more beguiling because it seems so natural” (69). The wilderness, according to Cronon, holds up a mirror in which we “too easily imagine we behold Nature when in fact we see the reflection of our own unexamined longing and desire” (69). The call of the Romantics seems to advocate the importance of self-consciousness and being able to recognize “the Other within” as well as “the Other next door” (89). We are called not to separate ourselves from nature but rather to recognize “the autonomy of the nonhuman world” and how our perceptions and understanding shape our relationship with ourselves, the natural world, and others (87).
Showing posts with label Valdes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Valdes. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Self-awareness and Self-criticism: Paths to Humility and Respect
William Cronon’s “The Trouble with the Wilderness; or Getting Back to the Wrong Nature” provides practical solutions to the troubling notions the cultural construction of the wilderness has taught us. The notion of needing to protect a wilderness that is “pristine” and out there, rather than the nature that surrounds us in our neighborhoods and cities, is a serious impediment to the host of environmental issues we face. In this respect, Cronon’s argument echoes the concerns articulated by Price. We need to be more self-conscious about the spaces we inhabit for ourselves and future generations. However, most people cannot think, or do not care to think, of life on Earth beyond their own moment in the sun. Peter Guther’s observation that man has a linear relationship to time is what inhibits man from taking environmental issues seriously (Byerly 54). As Cronon notes, the idea of the wilderness allows us to think of it as our “real home,” as opposed to the homes we live in, and “evade responsibility for the lives we actually lead” (81). Unfortunately, I think the Christian doctrine of apocalypse and afterlife erroneously contributes to a laissez-faire attitude regarding the environment in which people are comforted by the idea of rapture and Heaven or the afterlife as their “real home.” The idea of separate states of being, life on Earth and life in Heaven, is analogues to the notion of life in and outside of nature and “reinforce[s] environmentally irresponsible behavior” (89). Thus, Cronon notes that “[o]ur challenge is to stop thinking […] according to a set of bipolar moral scales in which the unnatural and the natural, the fallen and the unfallen, serve as our conceptual map for understanding and valuing the world” (89). Instead, we must resist the urge to be “dismissive and contemptuous of humbler places and experiences” and through “self-awareness and criticism” allow the wilderness and the natural world to “teach profound feelings of humility and respect” (87).
Cronon’s introduction of the wilderness as being constructed in our image, which he acknowledges is the image of the “elite tourist and wealthy sportsman” really drew me in as a reader (79). I am very interested in Milton’s use of images and reflections in Paradise Lost, especially in discerning “good” images and reflections from “evil” ones. Cronon acknowledges the difficulty of seeing the wilderness as unnatural and a construction since it “hides its unnaturalness behind a mask that is all the more beguiling because it seems so natural” (69). The wilderness, according to Cronon, holds up a mirror in which we “too easily imagine we behold Nature when in fact we see the reflection of our own unexamined longing and desire” (69). The call of the Romantics seems to advocate the importance of self-consciousness and being able to recognize “the Other within” as well as “the Other next door” (89). We are called not to separate ourselves from nature but rather to recognize “the autonomy of the nonhuman world” and how our perceptions and understanding shape our relationship with ourselves, the natural world, and others (87).
Cronon’s introduction of the wilderness as being constructed in our image, which he acknowledges is the image of the “elite tourist and wealthy sportsman” really drew me in as a reader (79). I am very interested in Milton’s use of images and reflections in Paradise Lost, especially in discerning “good” images and reflections from “evil” ones. Cronon acknowledges the difficulty of seeing the wilderness as unnatural and a construction since it “hides its unnaturalness behind a mask that is all the more beguiling because it seems so natural” (69). The wilderness, according to Cronon, holds up a mirror in which we “too easily imagine we behold Nature when in fact we see the reflection of our own unexamined longing and desire” (69). The call of the Romantics seems to advocate the importance of self-consciousness and being able to recognize “the Other within” as well as “the Other next door” (89). We are called not to separate ourselves from nature but rather to recognize “the autonomy of the nonhuman world” and how our perceptions and understanding shape our relationship with ourselves, the natural world, and others (87).
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
The Picturesque is Pure Intentionality
In “The Uses of Landscape: The Picturesque Aesthetic and the National Park System,” Alison Byerly discusses the idea of the American wilderness as a cultural myth rooted in the aesthetic category of the picturesque. Byerly notes the shift of the American wilderness from the sublime to the picturesque. The wilderness was increasingly “contained and controlled” making it impossible to see the landscape as extending to infinity. The picturesque framing of the wilderness becomes embodied in the national parks. Byerly argues that the aestheticization of the wilderness as national park removes the landscape “from the realm of nature” and transforms it into a “legitimate object of artistic consumption” (53). Byerly provides a brief history of the picturesque movement and notes the paradox of the picturesque as both aesthetically democratic and elitist. The picturesque allows anyone to become an artist and frame a picture, however, money and leisure time was (and is still) needed to go on picturesque tours as well as a large estate in order to participate in picturesque landscaping. Byerly illustrates how our national parks also operate under this paradox. The national park are available to everyone, however, the activities aimed at experiencing nature are not. The idea of “experiencing” nature or the wilderness takes a comical turn in the essay when Byerly discusses the Sierra Club’s 1966 ads against congressional proposals to build dams in the Grand Canyon to make the river deeper for visitors to use powerboats to view the canyon walls. The full-page ads ran with the headline: “SHOULD WE ALSO FLOOD THE SISTINE CHAPEL SO TOURIST CAN GET NEARER TO THE CELING.” As the headline illustrates, in order for nature to be appreciated or preserved it must be linked to art. The headline argues that the Grand Canyon is an aesthetic object that we have framed and “must therefore be protected for the same reasons that we protect all parts of our cultural heritage” (59).
I really enjoyed Byerly’s analysis of the national parks as embodying the cultural myth of the wilderness. The wilderness is defined in opposition to the realm of civilization, in other words, the wilderness is where humans are not. However, Byerly notes the paradox of this definition because “spectatorial presence is essential to the idea of the wilderness” (58). Byerly finds the “old question” of a tree falling in the forest perfectly capturing the paradox: “a tree standing in the forest is not part of the wilderness unless a civilized observer is there to see it” (58). Byerly links appropriation of the framing of the wilderness with the framing of the picturesque. Like the picturesque landscapes of “counterfeit neglect” where “the passage of time was artificially introduced and carefully controlled,” the national parks are artificially and carefully controlled to appear “wild” and pristine. The picturesque is therefore not an accident of “found art” but “pure intentionality” (55). Byerly notes the invisible hands constructing the picturesque wild. A. Starker Leopold’s report on the philosophy of wildlife management claimed that “observable artificiality on any form must be minimized and obscured in every possible way” so “a reasonable illusion of primitive America could be re-created” (60). However, when Yellowstone was allowed to burn the public was outraged. The public preferred the artificiality and wanted it preserved rather than see the “true” wilderness.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Manipulation of Natures
Like Amber, I was also drawn to the questions of nature/nurture in Mansfield Park. While Fanny is innately good and moral, her education and manners are a result of her upbringing in Mansfield Park. Fanny’s innate characteristics are “improved” upon at Mansfield Park and when she returns to Portsmouth she realizes that Mansfield Park is her true home. There is little doubt of the impact of the environment on the formation of the self. However, Austen problematizes the concept of nature vs. nurture throughout the novel. One example, is Maria and Julia’s behavior. Although Maria and Julia were raised as gentlewomen, they behave poorly toward Fanny and immorally in their relations to Henry. Both sisters are drawn to Henry’s charm and become competitive in their quest for his affections. The sister’s behavior illustrates the hypocrisy and corruptibility of the aristocracy. Unlike Fanny, the sisters are duped by his charm and insincere emotions. The entire novel reveals the ability to alter one’s nature for utility and self-interest. Outward looks are deceiving and everyone must use reason to discern a person’s “true” nature. This made me think of the Spanish saying, “Ojos vemos, corazones no sabemos” which literally translates into “Eyes we see, heart we don’t know.” Henry and Mary also represent the corrupting influence of the environment.
Henry and Mary were raised in the city and know how to manipulate their natures effectively in order to pursue their own self-interests. A telling episode is Mary and Mrs. Grant’s conversation about marriage in the beginning of the novel. Mary reveals that marriage is a “maneuvering business” and everyone is “taken in” (). Mrs. Grant tells Mary that she has attended “a bad school for matrimony” and that Mansfield Park with “cure“ Mary and Henry without “any taking in” (). Mrs. Grant assures Mary that she and Henry will not be taken because they will be the ones to manipulate the situation. Mrs. Grant tells Mary to have “a little imagination” and that if “one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, then we make a second better” and thus the would be “evil-minded” “are more taken in and deceived than the parties themselves” (). Thus, Mary tries to manipulate Edmund to change careers and convince Fanny to marry Henry in a plot to assure her close relations to Edmund. Henry is the constant wooer and plays with Maria, Julia, and Fanny’s emotions, which in the end disgrace Maria. Henry, however, can still recover form the scandal and marry well.
I also found the juxtaposition of Mrs. Grant’s and Mary conversation and the discussion of improving Sotherton well done. The connection between the manipulation of both human nature and the environment was very interesting. Mrs. Norris’s constant need for social approval reveals her to be highly interested in the utility and constant improvement of nature to promote social mobility and exhibit taste. Mrs. Norris says that if she owned Sotherton she would “not think of the expense” and would “have everything done in the best style” (). Mrs. Norris is focused on augmenting the aesthetics of the ground and thereby her status as a person of taste.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
The symbiotic relationship of man and the environment in Wordsworth's Prelude
Instead
of waking up to the usual and annoying sound of my alarm this morning, I woke
up to the sound of rain. The rain came suddenly and in a matter of seconds was
a pretty fierce down pour, it was beautiful. However, the beauty gave way to
fear as the wind picked up and became audible in my bedroom. I don’t know what
I was afraid of, perhaps the hearing and imagining the power of Nature. The
wind that is benign most days was making its presence known, making it voice
heard. Ok, that’s a little anthropomorphic and anthropocentric, but that’s one
way and for some the only way we understand Nature. For example, one of my
students pointed out on Monday how the gloomy weather was fitting for midterms.
I agreed and added that it was fitting for both students and teachers. Both
incidents made me think of the Wordsworth’s lines in Tintern Abbey “the mighty
world / Of eye and ear, both what they half-create, / And what perceive” (lines
106-108). The symbiotic relationship of man and the environment is
paradoxically both real and imagined. We have a real and tangible relationship
to nature and the interrelated system, but we also project onto nature our
hopes, fears, desires, and emotions. For example, SAD (Seasonal Affective
Disorder) demonstrates the real impacts of the environment on the self.
Wordsworth’s Prelude illustrates the
symbiotic relationship of man and the environment and the impacts of the
environment on the self.
Wordsworth’s
describes Nature, specifically the wind, as his muse. Wordsworth apostrophizes
the “gentle breeze” and refers to wind as a “[m]essenger” and “friend” (lines
1, 5). Wordsworth’s childhood and adolescence is shaped by Nature and describes
his soul as having “[f]air seed time” and growing up “[f]ostered alike by
beauty and by fear” (lines 306,307). The coupling of the words fear and beauty
allude to moments of sublimity. Wordsworth’s “destroy[ing]” and” plunder[ing]”
of nature evokes the feeling of nature responding to his actions. For example,
after preying on captive birds Wordsworth states “I heard among the solitary hills
/ Low breathing coming after me, and sounds / Of undistinguishable motion, steps
/ Almost as silent as the truft they trod” (lines 330-333). Wordsworth’s conscience
causes him to hear footsteps which he imagines are chasing after him. Nature
can be a beautiful and gentle muse and can cause terror and fear. Wordsworth
acknowledges that Nature “oftentimes, when she would frame / A favor’d being” pursues
them “[w]ith gentleless visitation” though to achieve “the self-same ends” “employ[s]
/Severer interventions” which Wordsworth states was his experience with Nature
(lines 364-366, 369, 371). Nevertheless, these moments of sublimity “[t]he
terrors, all the early miseries, /Regrets, vexations, lassitudes” have “infus’d”
Wordsworth’s mind with “thoughts and feelings” now make up a “calm existence” when he is “worthy of [himself]”
(lines 357-362). Wordsworth’s Prelude
is an example of the symbiotic relationship of man and the environment, both
real and imagined.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Wordsworth, the worshipper of nature
In the expanded Preface to the 1802 Lyrical Ballads, Wordsworth articulates a revolution in style and language. Wordsworth’s poetry presents the “incidents and situations from common life” in the “language really used by men” (409). Wordsworth rejects the notion that the “incidents and situations from common life” are undignified poetic subjects and that poetic language must be ostensibly ornate. The poet, according to Wordsworth, “thinks and feels in the spirit of the passions of men” and writes “not for Poets alone, but for men” (417). Therefore, poetic subject matter and language should express the “general passions and thoughts and feelings of men” as they are associated with things they know, namely, the Nature within and without (417). Otherwise, poets and their poetry are encouraging “admiration which depends upon ignorance” and pleasure from “what we do not understand” (417). Wordsworth engages the Enlightenment’s emphasis on reason and understanding to advocate his shift in style and language and “excite rational sympathy” (417). Nature becomes the vehicle through which man can understand himself and cultivate this “rational sympathy.”
Through Nature man can understand his own mind and through poetry he can see “the image of man and nature” (415). The poet, according to Wordsworth, “considers man and nature as essentially adapted to each other, and the mind of man as naturally the mirror of the fairest and most interesting qualities of nature” (415). The framing companion poems “Expostulation and Reply” and “The Tables Turned” articulate the importance of studying and contemplating nature. In “Expostulation and Reply” the narrator compares reading books to “drink[ing] the spirit breath’d / From dead men to their kind” (lines 7-8). In “The Tables Turned” the narrator rejects books and declares “Enough of science and barren art; / Close up these barren leaves;” (lines 29-30). Wordsworth is not rejecting knowledge but rejecting the early modern movement to close off from nature in favor of solitary confinement with ideas. Closing off from nature and turning solely to books is associated with death and emptiness, limiting the knowledge of the self that is acquired through the introspection of our image in nature. In “The Tables Turned” the narrator invites the readers to look up from their books stating “Come forth into the light of things, / Let Nature be your teacher” (lines 15-16). In “The Tables Turned” nature offers a true and accessible light, whereas in “Expostulation and Reply” light is being “beqeath’d” from one person to another. Nature has “powers” that can"feed" us and excite our minds via “wise passiveness” (“Expostulation and Reply,” lines 21-24). Wordsworth advocates contemplating accessible forms in nature to teach us more about ourselves.
In “The Tables Turned” the narrator states that “One impulse from a vernal wood / May teach you more of man; / Of moral evil and of good, / Than all the sages can” (lines 21-24). How exactly the vernal wood teaches man about himself and of “moral evil and good” Wordsworth does not explain, but he does know that “Our meddling intellect / Misshapes the beauteous forms of things; / -We murder to dissect” (lines 26-27). The enjambment functions to emphasize how our isolation from nature distorts the beauty of our minds in nature and the beauty of nature in our minds. We violate nature in order to understand and justify this violation in the name of progress. However, the religious resonance of the line “We murder to dissect" to the commandment “Thou shalt not kill” drives home the violation. Wordsworth as a “worshipper of Nature” illustrates Williams’s point about the death of God and the embrace of nature. For Wordsworth nature is “[t]he anchor of [his] purest thoughts, the nurse, / the guide, the guardian of [his] heart, and soul / Of all [his] moral being” (Tintern Abbey, line 110-112). Nature can teach us about ourselves, each other, and our environment. Poetry, according to Wordsworth, is the language that can show us an “image” of both.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
On Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell and Alternative Perceptions
The readings were very interesting, but I was particularly drawn to Blake’s The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Blake argues that the contraries of attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, and love and hate are necessary elements for human existence and progression. Blake categories these contraries according to the religious constructs of good and evil, respectively. Blake rejects the separation of these contraries, particularly of the body and soul, arguing that the body and soul are inextricably linked and form a whole. The body and soul, as well as the contraries mentioned above, are interconnected aspects that govern human nature. Blake rejects the limiting religious constructs of good and evil and the Enlightenment’s privileging of reason above energy and imagination. The erroneous notion that the body and soul are distinct limits our understanding of human nature and the forces at work within us and around us. Blake advocates a change in perception from the finite and senses-based to the infinite. Blake states “If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite” (26). Blake challenges the reader to step outside the confines of religious and Enlightenment constructions of human nature and explore alternative modes of perception. In order to fully understand the seeming dualities of human nature, Blake argues that one must converse with angels and devils alike. For this reason, I loved the challenging Proverbs of Hell.
The Proverbs of Hell were very complex and insightful. Blake makes an explicit connection between man and nature stating, “Where man is not, nature is barren” (20). I am still wrestling with this proverb and what exactly Blake means by nature. The proverb is a bold statement that immediately triggered the query: If a tree falls but nobody is around to hear it, does it still make a sound? Is there no nature if human beings are not there to witness it or partake in it? Does our energy and vitality contribute to Nature in such a significant way for it to be barren without us? I am I missing the mark completely? Perhaps nature and man are two seeming contraries that are really interrelated like reason and energy.
Another proverb I found interesting was “No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings” which reinforces Blake’s assertion that we should use our creative energies in conjunction with reason and not be afraid of intellectual and creative freedom (14). The proverb “improvement makes strait roads, but crooked roads without improvement made, are roads of Genius” contrasts the Enlightenment notion of progress with the innate Genius of Nature (19). A road is strait if it is man-made or manipulated through improvement, whereas the crooked or “natural” roads are “roads of Genius.” Blake aligns the “crooked” with the “natural” and with Genius, whereas the strait road is not inherently strait but made so. Religion and the Enlightenment impose artificial constructions of human nature, preventing the recognition of innate contraries that make human nature appear “crooked” but are really marks of Genius.
Blake advocates altering our perceptions in order to move toward more sophisticated ways of understanding ourselves and our surroundings. The episode of the protagonist who finds himself “sitting on a pleasant bank besides a river by moonlight, hearing a harper” whose theme “[t]he man who never alters his opinions is like standing water, and breads reptiles of the mind,” reinforces the need for mankind to alter our perceptions (34). As the Proverb of Hell has taught us, we should “[e]xpect poison from standing water,” or West Nile virus. Stagnant ideas and imposed religious and cultural constructs limit our perceptions of human nature and the natural world. We need to use our energy and not let our creative forces atrophy in the name of reason or religion. Ultimately, we need to accept the union of contraries as part of the natural world and human nature.
Blake, William. The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Boston: J.W. Luce and, 1906. Archive.org.The Library of Congress, 31 July 2009. Web.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)