Natural Magic: Emily Dickinson, Charles Darwin, and the Dawn of Modern Science II

Because I had such a hard time finding good reading material over the winter, I got out of the habit of reading regularly, and now, with spring, I am, as usual, distracted by new projects. Nevertheless, I do find this book useful and will continue reading it, but at a very slow pace. Since starting this blog, I have found that learning about the cultural and scientific developments of certain periods can be quite interesting. This period is especially interesting to me compared to others, because it includes both the U.S. and England from the late eighteenth century to the late nineteenth century, and I've already read a lot about it. Another period that I covered, less thoroughly, the French Enlightenment, was also interesting, but it seems to have ended by the late 18th century, before science really took off. This particular book is somewhat adventurous, because it links subjects that aren't usually associated with each other: poetry and science.

The chapters alternate between Darwin and Dickinson. So far, Bergland seems to be more neutral on Darwin than Janet Browne was in the earlier biography that I discussed. She draws a lot from Darwin's version of events, whereas Browne has a slightly more sociological take on Darwin. Overall, the impression I have is that Erasmus Darwin was thought of as somewhat of a crank by his son, Robert, and Robert attempted to raise his children a little more conservatively. Browne provides more of a sense that Robert considered his older son, Erasmus, smarter than Charles, because he breezed through school and became a doctor, like Robert and his father, whereas Charles wasn't very academic and liked to collect things in the outdoors. However, they were all quite shrewd about money. Robert married into the wealthy Wedgewood family and grew wealthier from his investments, and Charles married his first cousin from the Wedgewood side and never worried about money much. I haven't got very far in Bergland's book, but Browne portrays the younger Erasmus as somewhat of a dandy: though he did well academically, he did not practice medicine and socialized a lot in London, never marrying: there is some evidence that he was gay. I am watching to see how Bergland's account will play out later, but so far she hasn't conveyed the sense that Charles had a slight inferiority complex while he was growing up and psychologically was geared to be very careful about his work as an adult in order not to appear like a failure.

One area where Bergland does a good job is in conveying how the sciences were not widely part of the academic curriculum in the early-to-mid nineteenth century. The Darwin family traveled to Edinburgh and elsewhere for three generations for medical educations, because there was nothing available in England at the time. In this respect, though Dickinson's family wasn't at all scientific, the academic environment in Amherst was far more science-friendly at the time than it was at Cambridge and Oxford, or even Harvard and Yale. Amherst College was founded in 1821, and it may have had a better science faculty than the older colleges. Dickinson attended Amherst Academy for high school, and the curriculum there was atypical for females: it included math and science. While Dickinson's family wasn't poor, it wasn't rich: her grandfather, Samuel Fowler Dickinson, went bankrupt and moved away to Ohio. The original Dickinson Homestead, where Emily lived initially, had to be sold, and she moved to a lesser property for the remainder of her life.

Although I've got a long way to go in this book, I am trying to piece together a history of British empiricism and how it intersected with American empiricism. Empiricism in Britain has an extremely solid footing dating from the eighteenth century, from David Hume to Thomas Malthus to Charles Darwin. Though various forms of spiritualism became popular periodically, affecting Robert Owen and Alfred Russel Wallace, and perhaps even George Eliot, Darwin was a complete skeptic and knew from the start that it was all nonsense. With the religious history in New England, Emily Dickinson was also predictably affected. That is something that will interest me in the remainder of the book. For me, it ties in with Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. Emerson reminds me a little of a cult leader: who, today, discusses Transcendentalism as a serious movement? Though Emerson came from a good family, he was poor while growing up. However, his first wife was quite wealthy, and when she died from tuberculosis after just two years, he inherited that wealth. He decided not to work and form his own intellectual movement. I have never studied it in any detail, but it seems like a mishmash of Romanticism, the enjoyment of nature, and an undefined form of spiritualism. Emerson was not himself a true naturalist and didn't enjoy slogging through the wilderness in search of specimens. I think that he actively recruited people for his movement, and he specifically wanted to develop Thoreau as the naturalist spokesperson for Transcendentalism. It seems that he was often at odds with Thoreau, who was simply too independent and stubborn to follow Emerson's instructions. I suspect that, at heart, Emerson wanted to be seen as an informed evangelist. He actually favored literature and poetry over science, and, though he was twenty-seven years older than Dickinson, she may have made an excellent recruit for Transcendentalism – if he had ever heard of her.