Muir's natural interconnective world

"God’s glacial-mills grind slowly, but they have been kept in motion long enough in California to grind sufficient soil for a glorious abundance of life, though most of the grist has been carried to the lowlands, leaving these high regions comparatively lean and bare; while the post-glacial agents of erosion have not yet furnished sufficient available food over the general surface for more than a few tufts of the hardiest plants, chiefly carices and eriogonæ. And it is interesting to learn in this connection that the sparseness and repressed character of the vegetation at this height is caused more by want of soil than by harshness of climate; for, here and there, in sheltered hollows (countersunk beneath the general surface) into which a few rods of well-ground moraine chips have been dumped, we find groves of spruce and pine thirty to forty feet high, trimmed around the edges with willow and huckle-berry bushes, and oftentimes still further by an outer ring of tall grasses, bright with lupines, lark-spurs, and showy columbines, suggesting a climate by no means repressingly severe. All the streams, too, and the pools at this elevation are furnished with little gardens wherever soil can be made to lie, which, though making scarce any show at a distance, constitute charming surprises to the appreciative observer. In these bits of leafiness a few birds find grateful homes. Having no acquaintance with man, they fear no ill, and flock curiously about the stranger, almost allowing themselves to be taken in the hand. In so wild and so beautiful a region was spent my first day, every sight and sound inspiring, leading one far out of himself, yet feeding and building up his individuality."

In this descriptive passage from Muir's book,"The Mountains of California," (1894-Chapter 4, "A Near View of the High Sierra"), Muir takes the reader on a visual tour of an area of the high Sierra Mountains where he first fell in love with mountains; where he spent a good portion of his life and through an area he obviously loves. While giving a visual tour he is also concurrently explaining to us how essential and interconnected we and nature are, even following events which we would normally term,"catastophic." He implies the average person sees large scale events, such as the forming of mountains or the changing of their shapes through natural events as negative--that no good can possible be at the area where the event began or ended. We unengaged citizens would naturally assume destitution is the only possible outcome. He says if we really want to learn and know more, by spending time we will observe some naturally occurring order and purpose of nature.

In this passage Muir says God is responsible for this wonder and sight and from the enormity of glacial events, there is good and purpose:
"God's glacial-mills grind slowly" and "kept in motion long enough in California to grind sufficient soil for a glorious abundance of life. . ."

He continues to explain the functional outcomes of glacial events: "though most of the grist has been carried to the lowlands, leaving these high regions comparatively lean and bare; while the post-glacial agents of erosion have not yet furnished sufficient available food over the general surface for more than a few tufts of the hardiest plants, chiefly carices and eriogonæ."

He tells us even though there is ". . .sparse to no vegetation in the higher areas of glacial activity. . ." it is the way it is supposed to be. He tells us what nature did provide is nourishment enough for the the "hardiest plants, chiefly, carices and eriogonæ." (Side note, I looked up carices and eriogonæ and found no definition in any online dictionary, but every reference was given back to this single passage by Muir).

He then describes what is thriving and why, and does so in eloquent and poetical terms: ". . .And it is interesting to learn in this connection that the sparseness and repressed character of the vegetation at this height is caused more by want of soil than by harshness of climate; for, here and there, in sheltered hollows (countersunk beneath the general surface) into which a few rods of well-ground moraine chips have been dumped, we find groves of spruce and pine thirty to forty feet high, trimmed around the edges with willow and huckle-berry bushes, and oftentimes still further by an outer ring of tall grasses, bright with lupines, lark-spurs, and showy columbines, suggesting a climate by no means repressingly severe." His purpose here is to say, you might think conditions are severe, but folks, look what is thriving, and. . .it is thriving because it is the order of nature.

He continues to regal the unexpected beauty of nature and what springs from its naturalness or in this case, the waters: "All the streams, too, and the pools at this elevation are furnished with little gardens wherever soil can be made to lie, which, though making scarce any show at a distance, constitute charming surprises to the appreciative observer. In these bits of leafiness a few birds find grateful homes. Having no acquaintance with man, they fear no ill, and flock curiously about the stranger, almost allowing themselves to be taken in the hand."

Muir alludes to the wild and the beauty which can be, both sublime and something that the interested observer would find, only if engaged in the seeking of beauty and the exploration of the wild. He tells us likes Thoreau did, that getting closer to nature, taking the time to embrace, engage and become a collaborator enriches our lives without end: ". . .In so wild and so beautiful a region was spent my first day, every sight and sound inspiring, leading one far out of himself, yet feeding and building up his individuality."
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Kindred Spirits or Convening Beauty

"Kindred Spirits" by Asher Brown Durand,1849

I really struggled with making a single choice from the immense amount of Ruskin material. The man could split a neutrino into micro-neutrinos and still not be done. He had the gift of verbosity and genius! I found it, at the very least, overwhelming to read him. I decided to wait on deciding on a passage until my mind was clearer (ill with meds, now better) I reread passages of his "Modern Painter" today, with greater appreciation and one passage that completely moved me: "A mass of mountain seen against the light, may at first appear all of one blue; and so it is, blue as a whole, by comparison with other parts of the landscape. But look how that blue is made up. There are black shadows in it under the crags, there are green shadows along the turf, there are grey half-lights upon the rocks, there are faint touches of stealthy warmth and cautious light along their edges; every bush, every stone, every tuft of moss has its voice in the matter, and joins with individual character in the universal. . .(Modern Painters, 3.294)

How does Ruskin's passage above, relate to the stunning painting, "Kindred Spirits," by Asher Brown Durand? Durand's painting depicts American artist Thomas Cole and American poet William Cullen Bryant surrounded by the Catskill Mountains of New York. Durand's painting considered a "defining work of the Hudson River School" (http://www.nga.gov/exhibitions/durandinfo.shtm), and is filled with shade upon shade upon nuance upon shadow and light of nature's finest colors; add the magnificent view of the valley and river; the light pouring through the scenery and colors. . .This magnificent portrait by one of the Hudson River School's artists begs the question: How does one describe to another why or how they find beauty?

I like to think one strand of nature's color, alone, or one tree, or a single shade of one tree's green, would not alone, give pause or create a sense of wonder leading to the sense of beauty; rather it is the overwhelming number of nature's shades, nuances and combinations of color, together, which Durand so beautifully captured in "Kindred Spirits," which creates beauty.

I have always been humbled by the nature's palatte. We humans cannot come close to imitating or recreating these. Since I was a small person, I have stopped family member's conversations while we traveled to say: "Will you look at the shade of green? Have you seem seen such a delicate pink?" Ruskin said it so much better, (again:) "A mass of mountain seen against the light, may at first appear all of one blue; and so it is, blue as a whole, by comparison with other parts of the landscape. But look how that blue is made up. There are black shadows in it under the crags, there are green shadows along the turf, there are grey half-lights upon the rocks, there are faint touches of stealthy warmth and cautious light along their edges; every bush, every stone, every tuft of moss has its voice in the matter, and joins with individual character in the universal. . .(Modern Painters, 3.294) -- and Durand painted this thought, most magnificently.
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Team Dickens members

We are lagging!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please blog and be blogged!

The Dark Veil Pre-Vails

Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Minister's Black Veil" oozes Dark Romanticism.

Summary:
Parson Hooper (main character) is a minister (good and light) who comes to a regular church service wearing a black (evil, darkness) veil which covers his eyes. He does not acknowledge the veil at its first revealing, and discusses it only when forced to, but at all costs, never gives it up and wears it to his death bed. A simple veil, just a couple layers of dark crepe, was so off-putting that the man of the people became a complete outcast of the people.

The veil could be said to signify darkness, secrets and/or sin which is direct contradiction to Parson Moody's life purpose: to bring purity of heart to the people he was ordained to serve. As a veiled minister he was eventually shunned by all and seen as someone who forced all who viewed him to think about the "why" of veil. It made people uncomfortable and angry that he was forcing them to acknowledge not only his darknesses, sins, but theirs. He might have also been saying why are you rejecting someone who believes different than you....

In Paragraph 10: ". . .till Mr. Hooper had ascended the stairs, and showed himself in the pulpit, face to face with his congregation, except for the black veil. That mysterious emblem was never once withdrawn. It shook with his measured breath, as he gave out the psalm; it threw its obscurity between him and the holy page, as he read the Scriptures; and while he prayed, the veil lay heavily on his uplifted countenance. Did he seek to hide it from the dread Being whom he was addressing?"

Paragraph 10 is brilliant. It demonstrates both good and evil in the same line: ". . .it threw its obscurity between (walking the line between good and evil) him (darkness now) and the holy page (the ultimate light or the Puritanical beliefs that Hawthorne was raised on, which he is said to distain), as he read the Scriptures (good); and while he prayed (good), the veil lay heavily on his uplifted (the darkness is laying on the good) countenance. Did he seek to hide it from the dread Being (devil, evil, Hades, whatever your hell is).

Paragraph 13
"At the close of the services, the people hurried out with indecorous confusion, eager to communicate their pent-up amazement, and conscious of lighter spirits the moment they lost sight of the black veil. Some gathered in little circles, huddled closely together, with their mouths all whispering in the centre; some went homeward alone, wrapt in silent meditation; some talked loudly, and profaned the Sabbath day with ostentatious laughter. A few shook their sagacious heads, intimating that they could penetrate the mystery; while one or two affirmed that there was no mystery at all, but only that Mr. Hooper's eyes were so weakened by the midnight lamp, as to require a shade. . ."
I love the use of lighter spirits. . .black veil. . ." in the same line. Goodness and light co-existing; living life with our human angst and conflicts.
Then use of circles: "Some gathered in little circles, huddled closely together, with their mouths all whispering, in the centre;

Paragraph 22:
This should be a time of great human joy, marriage; and not just any marriage, but the marriage of the "handsomest couple..." "That night, the handsomest couple in Milford village were to be joined in wedlock."

Hawthorne again uses darkness and light, in the same sentence: "Though reckoned a melancholy (sad) man, Mr. Hooper had a placid cheerfulness (happy) for such occasions, which often excited a sympathetic (melancholy or dark) smile where livelier merriment (happiness/light) would have been thrown away."

The townspeople at the wedding were waiting for the good character of the minister to return when he came to officiate the wedding: "There was no quality of his disposition which made him more beloved than this. The company at the wedding awaited his arrival with impatience, trusting that the strange awe, which had gathered over him throughout the day, would now be dispelled."
The paragraph goes on to feature darkness, light, the supernatural; then added nature and the beautiful maiden dying and some Gothic symbols. He performs his duty, while shaking the bridal party to their core and then while toasting the couple catches a glimpse of himself wearing the veil, then rushes back into his own psychological darkness:
". . .But such was not the result. When Mr. Hooper came, the first thing that their eyes rested on was the same horrible black veil, which had added deeper gloom to the funeral, and could portend nothing but evil to the wedding. Such was its immediate effect on the guests that a cloud seemed to have rolled duskily from beneath the black crepe, and dimmed the light of the candles. The bridal pair stood up before the minister. But the bride's cold fingers quivered in the tremulous hand of the bridegroom, and her deathlike paleness caused a whisper that the maiden who had been buried a few hours before was come from her grave to be married. If ever another wedding were so dismal, it was that famous one where they tolled the wedding knell. After performing the ceremony, Mr. Hooper raised a glass of wine to his lips, wishing happiness to the new-married couple (romance, earthly happiness) in a strain of mild pleasantry that ought to have brightened the features of the guests, like a cheerful gleam from the hearth. At that instant, catching a glimpse of his figure in the looking-glass, the black veil involved his own spirit in the horror with which it overwhelmed all others. His frame shuddered, his lips grew white, he spilt the untasted wine (spilt blood?)upon the carpet, and rushed forth into the darkness. For the Earth, too, had on her Black Veil."
Paragraph
Great jab at his religion: If I can show my private transgressions and sorrows, shouldn't you?: "If I hide my face for sorrow, there is cause enough,'' he merely replied; ``and if I cover it for secret sin, what mortal might not do the same?''

Also a excellent poke at Romanticism where his girlfriend or bethrothed Elizabeth, abandons him for showing his human weakness to her:
"Lift the veil but once, and look me in the face," said she.
"Never! It cannot be!" replied Mr. Hooper.
"Then farewell!" said Elizabeth."

I never met an epigraph. . .

Circles
I chose this answer: ". . . this epigraph comments or elucidates the meaning of the text." as the purpose of Emerson's use of his "Circles" epigraph:

Nature centres into balls,
And her proud ephemerals,
Fast to surface and outside,
Scan the profile of the sphere;
Knew they what that signified,
A new genesis is here.

In using just a few, spare words to form his epigraph, Emerson has given us a large message: Nature (life) is an omniscient, never-ending sphere (circle). The circle has both physical attributes (ball)--which are constantly replenishing (ephemeral), and the circle has human attributes. . ."Scan the profile of the sphere: Knew they what that signified, A new genesis is here." This is his hello to readers. . .Man, are you Thinking? Man. . .what is your character and did you know you form your character by a circle of truth, which is then surrounded by another circle of truth, without end?

Emerson completely supports his epigraph through the use of a monster-size ecliptic salvo in the first paragraph of "Circles." He sets us up to expect (and delivers) many great ideas (Nature, Man Thinking, Circles, Character, Ephemeral qualities of life), throughout this essay, with this opening paragraph:

"The eye is the first circle; the horizon which it forms is the second; and throughout nature this primary figure is repeated without end. St. Augustine described the nature of God as a circle whose centre was everywhere, and its copious circumference nowhere. We are all our lifetime reading the copious sense of this first of forms. One moral we have already deduced in considering the circular or compensatory character of every human action. Another analogy we shall now trace; that every action admits of being outdone. Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth, that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning; that there is always another dawn rise on mid-noon, and under every deep a lower deep opens."

Paragraph 3:
"There are no fixtures in nature (ephemeral). The universe is fluid and volatile. Permanence is but a word of degrees. Our globe (earth, ball, circle) seen by God is a transparent law, not a mass of facts."

Paragraph 5:
He is again discussing character, the human condition: "The key to every man is his thought. . ."The life of man is a self-evolving circle, which, from a ring imperceptibly small, rushes on all sides outward to a new and larger (ephemeral) circles, and that without end."

Paragraph 20:
He reminds us again in this paragraph, we are humans; and our world is a fleeting, passing, replenishing thing:
"The natural world may be conceived as a system of concentric circles, and we now and then detect in nature slight dislocations, which apprize us that this surface on which we now stand is not fixed, but sliding."

A reader can easily find connections to the epigraph in ALL of the "Circle."

"Beware when the great God lets loose a thinker on this planet"
He did just that with Emerson.
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COMPLETE ASIDE:
I was one of the students from this class who admitted to overlooking reading one of the epigraphs from Emerson or Thoreau earlier this week. Although I used one myself for my Keats Fact Sheet, I didn't read the one from the esteemed author. Be sure I won't do it again. Now I am haunted by them, I see them everywhere (feel like this could be a Seinfield episode, "Jerry, ya should have heard the epigraph that guy used on me. . ."). I added one purposefully to a project due for my Rhetoric class. Upon peer review of the project, only one comment on the epigraph was received. While the message of MY epigraph, in my mind, could not have been more clear and purposeful, my peer reviewer asked what I meant by it. So then I started thinking. . .why did they not understand it when it was perfectly clear to me!

Nature is not temporary but we are

Craig Wolfe photography

My first read-through of Dorothy Wordsworth's "Floating Island" was mmm . . .I wasn't especially enraptured by it. I decided to try again by reading it out loud to myself.  By the end of the first stanza it was excruciatingly clear the spareness of words was obvious and . . .I heard myself talking out loud, "This makes all the sense in the world." 

Harmonious Powers with Nature work
On sky, earth, river, lake, and sea:
Sunshine and storm, whirlwind and breeze
All in one duteous task agree.

In this first stanza Wordsworth focused on describing the physical state of the highest power, our known Universe-the World and some of its components: sky, earth, the forces of its nature, and how they all work harmoniously together, to bring us quite a world to live in.  Wordsworth's use of the Universe and its interconnected components sets the stage for the reader to think: how powerful, what an awe-inspiring world.
 
She then imagines or sees, ". . .a slip of earth. . .loosed from its hold. . .see it float. . .obedient to the wind.” Vivid imagery. . .of a piece of Earth coming off in some mysterious way and it changed into something light enough to float on the wind. The imagination soars.

Once did I see a slip of earth,
By throbbing waves long undermined,
Loosed from its hold; -- how no one knew
But all might see it float, obedient to the wind.

She imagines or sees the piece of Earth on the Lake, where more creatures of the universe reside, thrive and share a world:

Might see it, from the mossy shore
Dissevered float upon the Lake,
Float, with its crest of trees adorned
On which the warbling birds their pastime take.

She describes life's basic needs: "Food, shelter, safety. . ." that the birds and all other living creatures find in Nature, at the lake. The call to fundamental needs that all living things share, invokes strong feelings in the reader -- We all need these! She paints a tranquil, sublime Nature scene from where the reader can find stillness, which then gives rise to “Big R” higher, more powerful emotions.

She goes on to infer, although the birds live here, so do we (interconnectedness again) and how the world as we know it, "A peopled world it is. . ." is but a tiny world in the great scheme of the infinite universe.” She reminds us we share the same needs and space with all living creatures. This calls in the “devotion to beauty; the worship of Nature.” She moves us to think our world, large as we can know it to be, could in fact, be very, very small in the scheme of the infinite universe. And how we might be connected to the larger universe and its unknown components.

Food, shelter, safety there they find
There berries ripen, flowerets bloom;
There insects live their lives -- and die:
A peopled world it is; in size a tiny room.

Skipping a few stanzas Wordsworth closes out by describing how we might be taking a Nature walk on a pleasant day and notice a piece of our familiar physical world, perhaps a landmark, gone, without any forewarning. We may not know where it went, what it became, but we can be sure it's continuing the preordained cycle of life by dissolving to a fragment of something else, to begin the cycle all over again. Again, the worship and devotion of nature and its powerful and sublime beauty; a call to the reader's imagination.

Perchance when you are wandering forth
Upon some vacant sunny day
Without an object, hope, or fear,
Thither your eyes may turn -- the Isle is passed away.

Buried beneath the glittering Lake!
Its place no longer to be found,
Yet the lost fragments shall remain,
To fertilize some other ground.

Side bar: Wordsworth's poem conjured up a strong recollection. I lived on the East Coast in the mid-1990s. I was away from home during the great December 1998 Northwest floods which created havoc in every possible way with people, their plans, the physical world. Everyone at home was inconvenienced, all pre- and post-holiday plans had to be changed and the flood had to be “dealt with.” Most of my family lives in Oregon and Washington, so I was given many stories and pictures describing their experiences with the great flood.

The description of their experiences were words to me until the day I drove the Columbia River Gorge from Portland to Eastern Oregon in May, following the floods. I was startled beyond any words I have yet to find, when I saw that the shape of the Columbia River bed by Cascade Locks had altered noticeably. The curve had turned more snake-like, sharper, and the river's shore was now much closer to the road.

The flood and all its power, had dramatically changed a piece of nature which I had enjoyed all my driving life. I had always been able to predict the next curve and therefore go on a slight autopilot to enjoy the amazing Gorge views of river and cliffs. I had always felt until the moment I took the slight right turn onto the short stretch of road where the river bed changed, that Nature was a good thing. I had felt most secure in my familiarity of the road. Until that moment when I discovered the unexpected changes, it had been my road.

When I saw the river's bank now fixed much closer to the road, I was unexpectedly afraid, startled, disoriented, completely and wholy undone. I understood right then, right there, this was not my road, I am merely borrowing it and its experience. I felt to my depth, how HUGE and POWERFUL nature is and how truly small, really temporary, I am. Thanks Dorothy Wordsworth!

Sheer cliffs, sheer terror, don't walk there Edgar!

"Don't walk there Edgar!" I found myself thinking just that so often during a few portions of the first half of Edgar Huntly and often, during the second half to completion of the Charles Brockden Brown's story.

Page 152: "My return to sensation and to consciousness took place in no much tranquil scene. I emerged from oblivion by degrees so slow and so faint, that their succession cannot be marked. When enabled at length to attend to the information which my senses afforded, I was conscious of a time, for a time, of nothing but existence. It was unaccompanied with lassitude or pain, but I felt disinclined to stretch my limbs, or raise my eye-lids. My thoughts were wildering and mazy, and though consciousness were present, it was disconnected with the loco-motive or voluntary power."

Summary: Edgar slowly regains consciousness and with it, many painful sensations of various kinds and degrees, but soft! he has no recollection of how he arrived at the darkness, became hurt, who or what caused his unconsciousness. It takes a period of time for him to mentally process his state and once he does, he moves even more slowly, because what he discovers next about himself, he really didn't really want to know.

Edgar begins his awareness of arriving somehow in the darkness that he soon discovers is a cave, "My return to sensation. . ." which immediately and without permission, engages the reader and forces them in a subliminal way, to begin feeling and speculating. As a human being, we cannot read the words "return" and "sensation" without beginning the process of asking questions and experiencing a sensation ourselves. Why is that?

Use of the words, ". . .return to sensation," could be called creating imagery, by choosing words which makes the reader react automatically with a memory of their own or a memory of some type of sensation.

When a reader sees the word, "sensation," it's a muscle reflex reaction or another piece of imagery at work. The word "sensation" takes the reader, without permission, right into sensations or memories of sensations of their own. It's the type of word that elicits a physical reaction. Think of the word, "sky diving." What happens? It creates an automatic response.

The word "return" implies Edgar has been gone. It's human to begin speculating and wanting to fill in the blanks. If you are returning, Edgar, where have you been? If your sensations are returning, what did you lose, when, how and will you get those sensations back?

The more picturesque author may have simply said: "My jaw, ribs, head, arms are throbbing-are they broken? There is white-hot heat radiating from these places, and the pain. . . Are my ribs and legs broken? Why can't I open my eyes? And where is the light? Where. ..am...I???"

What is gained by writing more picturesque or specifically, is finite knowledge. The reader is told what is happening. There is no need to speculate or imagine. You have been given the facts.

What is lost by writing in a more picturesque style is the reader will not necessarily become engaged in the reading because there is no stimuli or imagery to force engagement. There is no need for the reader's imagination to conjure up the types of injuries, circumstances, because they have already been told.

It's a more passive style of reading; a more active style of writing. The author can spell out without ambiguity, what is taking place. The reader is able to "flow" through the reading-writing with less pause, greater understanding, less need to analyze and no invitation particularly, to participate in the story.
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