What comes across for me in Cooper first and foremost is the intense joy and pleasure that her outdoor escapades seem to give her. She seems to be willing to expose herself to the elements and immerse herself in the experience of “nature” even when it might cause her a lot of physical discomfort (i.e. “the teeth of a sharp wind” etc. on March 4th). For all the discomfort, what is gained is a “virtuous glow which is not to be picked up by cowering over the fireside” (ibid). Being in nature is an incredibly joyous pastime for her, and a sensuous one at that. In her descriptions of her experiences she engages all of our senses – it’s not only the obvious impressions like the colors of the flowers or even the songs of the birds or frogs that are worth noting for her, it’s also the temperature of the air, the fragrance of tiny buds, the taste of maple sugar etc…The joys and pleasures are sensuous. The word “pleasant” is her word of choice for describing desirable sensations, and it seems that often she evaluates “nature” depending on whether or not it’s a source of desirable sensations. On May 19th, for example, in her discussion of the European species’ encroachment on American native plants, the only explicit reason she gives for why the situation is not desirable is the fact that the native plants are “prettier” (ergo more pleasant) than the native ones. (This is only one passage though, and I’m not sure whether this is a general trend or not).
But there’s more to Cooper’s experience of nature than just sensation. She seems to be preoccupied with the question of language and the naming – proper naming that is - of “nature.” Sensations need proper labels. It seems that to Cooper a rose by any other name would not smell as sweet. She is concerned with decorum – simple yet beautiful flowers demand simple yet beautiful names. In other words, flowers need “pretty” and “natural” names, not scientific, dead terms (June 23). While recognizing the need for naming and classifying, typically scientific pursuits, Cooper warns us about our tendency to “overflo[w] with science” (June 23). I get the sense that she is sensitive not only to the beauty of “nature” but to the beauty of language as well - just as immersion in nature should give us pleasure, so should the (poetic) names of flowers. She wants them both (names and flowers) sweet and pretty. “Botany” corrupts our ability to enjoy “nature:” it destroys our “natural, unaffected pleasure in flowers” (June 23). What is interesting about Cooper’s critique of science as a corrupting and alienating force is her notion that the corruption and alienation occurs through (scientific and dead) language. Language is the medium through which we experience nature, and if we lack proper language, the experience will be ruined.
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I think what Cooper is feeling, by 1850, is the increasing professionalization of American science, which nevertheless has had no memorable effect on what ordinary people know about American nature. Audubon, too, felt the tailwind coming the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia--but while he tried to be as scientific as possible, even hiring (as I mentioned in class) the Scottish ornithologist William McGillivray to scrub his prose clean and add state-of-the-art anatomical descriptions (left out in my edition) to the end of his bird biographies, Cooper seems to want to establish a kind of middlebrow approach to science--one that hankers after the accuracy of scientific knowledge but preserves the transparency of the language used by ordinary folks.
ReplyDeleteIncidentally, there is an article I found online that does compare Cooper and her Canadian contemporary Catharine Parr Traill. It's not very good, but it might give you some preliminary ideas if this is a topic you might be interested in pursuing further: http://external.oneonta.edu/cooper/articles/suny/2001suny-dyer.html.