There is a lot we can learn about others in the how they
treat, and view, nature. Often we are quick to make judgments upon people who
abuse animals, and of course there is feigned-respect for indigenous peoples
and their actual reverence toward nature. But how are we to judge fictional
characters? Are we to critique the author, or the creation? Or is there a cultural
driving force propelling the narrative that we should place under the
microscope of scrutiny? If even possible to do so, these are not simple
questions to answer. However, by performing close readings of the texts, we may
get a closer idea of what that particular zeitgeist behind the book is. A good
example of this is to juxtapose the two divergent portrayals of nature found in
James Fennimore Cooper’s The Pioneers,
and Mark Twain’s The Adventures of
Huckleberry Finn. In comparing and contrasting the depictions of nature in
each one of these texts, it is easier to get a closer approximation to the
overall zeitgeist of the times, and to see how each of these texts reflects the
current cultural norm.
In attacking
the concept of the Idea of Nature in two great American texts such as these we
must closely look at the time in which they were originally published. Cooper
first published The Pioneers in 1823,
the United States of America was barely 50 years old, and much of the country
had yet to be explored. We get a clear picture of how early, Anglo-Saxon
Americans dealt with the apparent bounty and wildness of nature throughout much
of Cooper’s work. Being episodic in content, The Pioneers, as a text, easily helps us pick out examples
of the idea of this vastness of the continent’s bounty. One particular scene
that goes to highlight such thinking is the pigeon hunt. We are treated to a
frenetic episode where almost all the town has turned out to shoot large flocks
of the birds without regard for the need of conservation, as we would see
today. The narrator is quick to point out that “None pretended to collect the
game, which lay scattered over the fields in such profusion, as to cover the
very ground with the fluttering victims” (246). The only character to raise a
concern for such a practice is Nathaniel Bumppo, who is quickly rebuked by others
from the town. If we were to solely look at this particular episode, it would
be easy to argue that in this time, Nature was a force, not to be worked in
harmony with, but one against which to rage and conquer.
There
is another scene in The Pioneers
where Cooper presents the idea that Nature is made to be conquered. In chapter
XIX, there is an exchange between Louisa and Elizabeth, well-sheltered within
Judge Temple’s mansion. Being concerned that the howling they hear is not the
wind, Louisa exclaims that the sounds are those of wolves, driven from the
mountains. Elizabeth, confident in her station as Judge Temple’s daughter, and
in her position in the natural hierarchy as a human, makes the claim that “The
enterprise of Judge Temple is taming the very forests. How rapidly is
civilization treading on the footsteps of nature” (212). It does not take a
close reading of the text to correlate this sentiment with a common belief that
Man was put on Earth to act as overlord to the rest of nature, a concept common
in the dogma of most Christian teachings.
Yet,
we see, however, that Nature is not one to be so easily tamed and
conquered. In Chapter XXVIII, while
walking through the woods, against Judge Temple’s warning, Elizabeth and Louisa
are beset by a panther. Elizabeth, trusting her protection to her domesticated
mastiff, Brave, is almost over-run by the big cat, until the intervention of
Natty Bumppo. Later in the novel, Bumppo challenges Judge Temple, asking if the
laws of man stopped the panther from nearly taking Elizabeth. Here, Cooper is
illustrating that, regardless of where we might think humans fit in regard to
the food chain, our assumptions, and our laws passed through our assumptions
are moot.
So
where does the zeitgeist of the time fit in with Cooper’s The Pioneers? In this infancy of the country, it would be safe to
argue that rapid expansion at any cost was not only the cultural norm, but
viewed as the right of the Anglo-Saxon settlers. The 1820s and 1830s in the
United States saw the spread of urban centers, and burgeoning towns, along with
the expansion, and reappropriation of land belonging to indigenous peoples, and
the coinciding genocide of those native tribes. We could argue that readers of
Cooper wouldn’t have been outraged by the waste of the game, during the pigeon
shoot, nor would they have read the panther incident as anything other than
another reason to, as Elizabeth states in the novel “[tread] on the footsteps
of nature.” It would take another forty years before a shift in this zeitgeist
was to occur.
By
the end of the American Civil War, in 1865, the United States had seen
approximately 600,000 men killed, and countless resources and cities destroyed.
Crippled financially and spiritually, the American people were ready for a
change. Nineteen years later, Mark Twain first published The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
While Nature was still a force used to confront, challenge, and often
hinder Huck and Jim, it could be argued that Twain used the first eight
paragraphs of Chapter XIX to show how the natural world is a thing of beauty,
one to be worked with, instead of fought against.
Chapter
XIX of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
have been said to contain some of the most lyrical descriptions of Nature in
all of American Literature? Why? What purpose does such a description serve? Twain,
ever the satirist, could have been making a commentary on the objects we find
most appealing yet are the worst for us, in terms of our health and well-being.
However, upon closer reading of the text, we can find that there is a meaning
behind Twain’s descriptions, one of healing and tranquility.
Always
the wordsmith, in the first few paragraphs of Chapter XIX, Twain opts for using
words that lull the reader. “A kind of dull line,” “then a pale place,” “then
the river softened up,” all of these descriptions are meant to elongate the
reading, there are no sharp consonants, such as k or ch (114). Even the fact
that Twain uses the phrase “softened up” to describe the river is a strategic
choice to grant ease and comfort. This particular section highlights the sweet
moments hidden among life’s hardships. Huck and Jim, in these quiet times, are
allowed a bit of respite from the danger and the hardship they face moving down
the river, although not always in the most ideal of conditions.
Another
way Twain offers up Nature in a way of healing and tranquility is in language
that offers up, almost Eden-like pictures of Huck and Jim’s travels down the
river. Twain’s use of descriptions such as “so cool and fresh and sweet to
smell on account of the woods and flowers” to depict the breeze, and when Huck
tells us that “everything [smiles] in the sun, with the song birds just a-going
at it” readers who are familiar with the Judeo-Christian concept of the Garden
of Eden could easily draw the parallels, even more so when Huck states that “we
was always naked – day or night – as long as the mosquitos would let us” (114).
It is no coincidence, either, that Twain opted to use a first-person narrator
in Huck. Twain deftly executes the employment of the first-person narrator to
reach a broader audience with his message of hope and healing. We as readers
are more apt to empathize and agree with a narrator that is subjective and can
share our empathies, rather than a cold, emotionless, omniscient third-person
narrator dictating the actions to us.
So
we are still left with the question of “why?” when we read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Why is Twain so concerned that
we see the soft moments in day to day life? Why does Twain care if we relate to
Huck? The argument is there that Twain wanted to extend healing, peace, and hope
to Americans struggling with Reconstruction. The argument is also there that
Twain was ever the business man, and knew exactly what it would take to sell
books.
Where
would our zeitgeist lie? Are we like Twain, searching for the moments of peace
and unity with Nature? Or do we come down on Cooper’s side of the fence, where
Nature is ours to do with as we please? Much like the whole of American
Literature, we can argue that our zeitgeist lies somewhere in the grey area.
American consumers seem to be rapacious, with the insatiable desire for better,
faster, flashier. However, many American consumers are concerned with the
resources that cannot be renewed, finding more efficient ways to conserve, and
hopefully save Nature for the generations yet to come. In 50 years, we’ll
merely have to look at the texts produced during this time, to truly see where
the zeitgeist lay.
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