For my contribution
to the roundtable, I will examine the famous “Contact!” passage from The Maine Woods. After hostile
conditions turn him around from the alpine region on Katahdin, just shy of
Pamola Peak, Thoreau reunites with his companions and begins his descent.
Finding the alpine zone a hostile environment, Thoreau describes the path he
takes as the most treacherous he has experienced due to the hostile, elemental
forces around him (64). During his descent, Thoreau experiences what has been
deemed a moment of crisis:
“Nature was here
something savage and awful, though beautiful. I looked with awe at the ground I
trod on, to see what the Powers had made there, the form and fashion and
material of their work. This was that Earth of which we have heard, made out of
Chaos and Old Night. Here was no man's garden, but the unhandselled globe. It
was not lawn, nor pasture, nor mead, nor woodland, nor lea, nor arable, nor
waste-land. It was the fresh and natural surface of the planet Earth, as it was
made for ever and ever, — to be the dwelling of man, we say, — so Nature made
it, and man may use it if he can. Man was not to be associated with it. It was
Matter, vast, terrific, — not his Mother Earth that we have heard of, not for
him to tread on, or be buried in, — no, it were being too familiar even to let
his bones lie there, — the home, this, of Necessity and Fate. There was there
felt the presence of a force not bound to be kind to man. It was a place for
heathenism and superstitious rites, — to be inhabited by men nearer of kin to
the rocks and to wild animals than we. We walked over it with a certain awe,
stopping, from time to time, to pick the blueberries which grew there, and had
a smart and spicy taste. Perchance where our wild pines stand, and
leaves lie on their forest floor, in Concord, there were once reapers, and
husbandmen planted grain; but here not even the surface had been scarred by
man, but it was a specimen of what God saw fit to make this world. What is it
to be admitted to a museum, to see a myriad of particular things, compared with
being shown some star's surface, some hard matter in its home! I stand in awe
of my body, this matter to which I am bound has become so strange to me. I fear
not spirits, ghosts, of which I am one, — that my body might, — but I
fear bodies, I tremble to meet them. What is this Titan that has possession of
me? Talk of mysteries! — Think of our life in nature, — daily to be shown
matter, to come in contact with it, — rocks, trees, wind on our cheeks! The solid
earth! the actual world! the common sense! Contact! Contact! Who
are we? where are we?” (70-71).
In this passage,
Thoreau effectively screams out that matter matters. What has not been
sufficiently addressed in the prodigious scholarship on this passage—which has,
for the most part, privileged Thoreau’s distinction from the environment and
has attended primarily to his epistemological condition—is that Thoreau’s account
of this event is dominated by the material objects around him: the rocks,
trees, and wind, objects whose materiality he underscores with his emphatically
punctuated noun clause, the solid and
actual world.
Rather than provide
an in-depth analysis of this passage, however, I will focus on Timothy Morton’s
surprising fascination with this passage, surprising insofar as Morton is not a Thoreauvian and
in fact has dedicated much of his recent work to critiquing the normative
nature writing tradition associated with Thoreau.
Morton’s first reference to The Maine Woods comes in his 2007 book Ecology Without Nature, where he argues that Thoreau’s emphatic tone serves to distort nature. Morton thus holds the passage as an example of the sort of ecological writing that he celebrates for its attempts to “undo habitual distinctions between nature and ourselves” (63). In The Ecological Thought (2010), wherein Morton challenges dominant forms of environmental epistemology, he again cites the “Contact!” passage, suggesting that as we know more about the nonhuman world we simultaneously experience increasing alienation from nature so that “we may all now be experiencing what Thoreau wrote concerning the ascent of Mount Katahdin” (33). And just a couple of pages into Hyperobjects (2013), Morton returns once more to the “Contact!” passage in referencing the concept of the anthropocene, or the era in which humans have shaped the world on a geological scale (4).
The
material turn, and for the purposes of this position paper I use Morton as a
metonym for that scholarship, encourages us to not to privilege Thoreau’s
crisis of subjectivity at the expense of the material objects and nonhuman
world. More specifically, OOO’s emphasis on the autonomy and inherently
withdrawn nature of objects brings into relief the process of defamiliarization
that Thoreau experiences as he oscillates from traversing this landscape
“familiarly” to looking with “awe” at the materials surrounding him (70). The
New Materialist concern with radically reconsidering relationships among
matter, and its “insistence that humans, including theorists themselves, be
recognized as thoroughly immersed within materiality’s productive
contingencies” (Coole and Frost 7), dovetail almost seamlessly with Thoreau’s
newfound consideration of his own body’s materiality and his unsettling
“contact” with the “solid earth! the actual world” (71).
Both
New Materialism and OOO contend that matter and objects exist equally, without
affording humans or other forms of matter ontological primacy. This is a
radical suggestion for anyone, much less the Transcendentalist Thoreau whose
ideological investment in correlationism habituated him to think that the
“being” of nonhuman objects mattered insofar as it could be represented
anthropocentrically. What Thoreau must do is take the hermeneutical leap to
“conceive of a region uninhabited by man” (70). Otherwise familiar objects,
such as the ground, poplars, stones, and blueberries, in this case become
unfamiliar. Thoreau provides no details of how he perceives these objects, and
there is little sense of correlation or correspondence. Whatever meaning these
objects might have, it seems, is not immediately accessible to Thoreau.
Instead, in recognizing both unfamiliar relations between objects and the
inherent autonomy of objects, Thoreau rejects the sort of anthropocentric
ontology that both New Materialism and OOO critique.
As
David Robinson has illuminated, the difficulty in interpreting this passage
stems from Thoreau’s contradictory position: alienated from, while
simultaneously brought into contact with, the nonhuman world (137). That
contradiction extends to the difficulty of a materialist consideration of the
passage: whether to privilege autonomy or relationality. The question, then, is
whether the passage lends itself to an OOO or New Materialist interpretation.
Does it privilege the inherent withdrawnness of objects or does it describe a
complex assemblage of agential matter? Following Jane Bennett’s suggestion that
“there is no need to choose between objects or their relations,” and that OOO
and New Materialism have more in common than some polemicists might admit
(“Systems” 227), I will posit that the “Contact!” passage lends itself just as
easily to OOO as New Materialist interpretations. This may be why Morton
consistently cites this passage throughout the trilogy of books that mark his
theoretical transition from New Materialism to OOO. It seems, then, that
Morton’s refusal to jettison the “Contact!” passage, despite his transition
from New Materialism to OOO, thus serves as a valuable example for Bennett’s
attempt at theoretical détente.
Works
Cited
Bennett,
Jane. “Systems and Things: A Response to Graham Harman and Timothy Morton.” New Literary History 43.2 (2012):
225-33. Project Muse. Web. 10 Sep.
2013.
Coole,
Diana and Samantha Frost. “Introducing the New Materialisms.” New Materialisms: Ontology, Agency, Politics.
Ed. Diana Coole and Samatha Frost. Durham: Duke UP, 2010. 1-43.
Morton,
Timothy. The Ecological Thought.
Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2010. Print.
—. Ecology
Without Nature: Rethinking Environmental Aesthetics. Cambridge: Harvard UP,
2005. Print.
—. Hyperobjects:
Philosophy and Ecology after the End of the World. Minneapolis: U of
Minnesota P, 2013. Print.
Robinson,
David. Natural Life: Thoreau’s Worldly
Transcendentalism. Ithaca: Cornell Up, 2004. Print.
Thoreau,
Henry David. The Maine Woods. Ed.
Joseph J. Moldenhauer. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1972. Print.
1 comment:
Hey James, I really admire this new version! You're moving between OOO and NM very deftly here, without collapsing them into one another. Your intuition of pairing OOO and the Contact! Contact! passage seems dead on, to me, as does your insistence that Morton's passing references to this passage don't really do it justice in terms of thinking through its relation to the kind of project OOO sets itself. Your paper does a great job of highlighting the consonances between OOO and this passage, but this time, in reading it, I was simultaneously struck by the dissonances in that fit. The main source of that dissonance, for me, seems to come from the *tone* of the passage. That is, the content of the passage does indeed seem to refer to the alienness of object being--illustrating Thoreau's sense that matter's reality is eluding his mental grasp, and his struggle (also atop the mountain) to conceive of the world beyond or outside of human conceptions of it. But the tone of these thoughts--the affect of the passage--seems so remarkably different from that which predominates in OOO. Thoreau seems a bit panicked, really: his body is a ghost, he is a mind yoked to an uncannily alien thing, he seems unmoored, beside himself. OOO prides itself on this alienation--the decentering our human perspective is its political triumph, and it tends to describe the experience of alienation as one dominated by wonder and enchantment. But Thoreau seems to experience it as intolerable, or at the very least he wants it to be over--he demands contact, whereas OOO categorically refuses it.
So what I'm wondering here is--what might we make of the consonance of outlook, but dissonance of attitude, between Thoreau's account of alienation from matter and OOO's? What new perspectives on OOO, or posthumanism more generally, might get opened up by addressing the fact that Thoreau doesn't seem quite so sanguine about the prospect of renouncing "contact" with matter? And in this respect, would you call the contact passage an exceptional moment in Thoreau's thinking about his relation to the material world, or a moment towards which his thinking culminates?
FWIW, thems some thoughts--I think this paper has legs! I can't wait to see where you go with it.
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