Meta-Postmodern View of the Earth

Most of the class discussion focused on unknotting the potential different perspectives to be found in Kingsnorth's (fairly general) idea of giving the earth back its lively voice. Where the lines were to be drawn between the animate and the inanimate was of special importance; what can, and should, be given its own identity? The consequences of this to climate change fiction, which Kingsnorth just began to touch on, were also looked at. We need to combine our abilities and intelligences with those of the natural world in order to combat the catastrophic changes we are facing.

In the same way that Le Guin's "Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction" invites us to find new forms for our stories, Kingsnorth invites us to find new forms for the environment as a character in our stories. As climate change becomes more urgent, this becomes less of a choice and more of a responsibility.

Let's Get Meta: Why Nature Breathes and Sings Beneath Humans

This week's reading by Kingsnorth spurred much debate internally. While whisking through his argument, I picked up that many found themselves siding with Kingnorth's assertion that nature is "alive and kicking" and a clear hierarchy of existence does not need to be spread apart by ecological factors.  Our blog moved toward the trend of environmental innocence and the concept of equilibrium within the scope of a breathing nature and being able to write about such a topic without floating into the intensely trying diction tied with it.

Much of the posts and comments questioned the idea of inanimate versus the animate. This is, ironically, simply too complex for us to answer. Questions of how and statements of grey bleed thorough the digital spaces of an unrelenting code. I do not believe we can solve the dispute of what is labeled inanimate, such as a stapler, or whether it has lengthened to the still-very-much-alive plants and trees and flowers and mosses and algae and...and...and...We cannot know because we do not yet understand the comprehension to giving a voice to something that (sort of) already does.

Do we feel odd speaking for a friend that is next us? Writing a personal story about a breakup when you know that past partner could read it? Tweeting something potentially offensive about an unnamed family member but the lines are only so thick? They have their voice. We have ours. How can we gain the correct voice, correct tone and diction in the same way they wish to be represented?

"Glorious failures are always more interesting than unambitious successes." -Paul Kingnorth

-PanLibDem

META- King of the North...er....Kingsnorth

This week's discussion was lush with musings about the earth's feelings, and comparisons of modern day literature to Kingsnorth's writings. The comments challenged the idea that the point of his writing was to figure out how the world feels, but rather what can survive most efficiently in the world. The comments discussed how humans need to be able to adapt, implying that maybe Mother Earth does too.

Another commenter said maybe we need to band together, like the Knights of the Vale, the Night's Watch and the Wildlings, to defeat the massive, looming questions charging at us. I think we've made a step in that direction simply by creating this blog- and starting to think about nature and all that it entails as a class.

I think for each group, this week's discussion really made us take a step back and delve into the perspective of nature, and how bias our own perspectives can be.

Earth, AKA Dirt

Let's not turn into philosophers, friends. Philosophers stress over what things are, and how that affects us. That's not us: we take things that we sorta know, then transcribe them into original stories/media that hopefully garner attention/profit. And we love the art of it too, I guess. 

The earth, to a philosopher, can mean everything and anything, which sucks for them. To a writer, something potentially meaning everything and anything is awesome. It can fit into any story we want to tell! Isn't that great?

...

You're not getting as pumped about this as I thought. What, you minoring in philosophy? 

Alright, let me explain.

You're writing a story for Big Oil Inc., who will pay you a million-gabillion dollars to make a story that makes the earth, the only planet we can call home, a distant, foreign thing. So, you take a note from Kingsnorth, and alter the perception in your story to make the planet come across as a machine, or some kind of factory that needs figuring out. You make riches beyond your dreams, and retire in the mountains, since they're the only bodies of land safe from floods.

Or!

You're writing a story for Fuck Big Oil Inc. Inc., who will pay you thirty cents and a 'Stupid Is As Stupid Does' bumper sticker from 1996 to make a story that makes the earth, the only planet we can call home, a familiar, lovely thing. So, you ignore Kingsnorth, call yourself PeasantSouth, and alter the perception in your story to make the planet come across as a lovely pre-teen keen to adult verbiage and sentence structure. Corporations don't stop polluting, but you feel better about yourself and the new habit you picked up of shaming friends and family who use plastic utensils. 

Or, or, or!

You're writing a story for you. 

You don't need anyone telling you what to make the planet.

Except you, of course!

Yes, listen to some philosophers, listen to Kingsnorth, and compare their thoughts with your own. Craft a perception of the planet from all of these thoughts that fits you and your writing.

Go nuts, don't make us look like Mars. 

-beaked tentacle monster unaware of their creator

Raise your hand if your house plants totally talk shit about you behind your back

I talk about my mom a lot on here. Well, I talk about my mom a lot in general.

But my mother has always said she is a spiritual person. She believes in a higher, non-malicious power and she believes it lives in her plants. My mother, bless her pea-pickin’ heart, talks to her plants. Coos at them. Tells them they’re so strong and powerful and beautiful.

So, if the Ents do rise up and take back over the planet, I think my mother will be just fine.

I understand what our friend Kingsnorth is trying to say here. Let’s put a voice to the planet. Let’s make her a character. Let’s have a novel from her perspective so we can cause a sympathy for the planet that she hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

But guys, don’t you think that’s awful presumptive of us? Can we pretend to know how the planet’s “mind” works? Can we even begin to put a voice to that? A human voice nonetheless? How else would we even write a story from the planet’s perspective than to humanize it?

It is one thing to talk to the planet. To encourage its growth. To tell your plants their beautiful and to respect Mother Nature. But how the hell can we pretend to talk for her? It is wrong to write from the perspective of a culture that is not your own, when you do not experience the hardships they do. How is this any different? I don’t think this is the answer, but I think old Kingsnorth is onto something. We just have to find a way to otherwise represent the planet in our art.

I sound pretty hippy dippy right now.

You really do turn into your parents.

Go Hug a Tree

"The notion that the non-human world is largely inanimate is often represented as scientific or rational, but it is really more like a modern superstition." - Paul Kingsnorth

Why do humans consider themselves at the top of the ecological pyramid?

Kingsnorth's quote made me think about my perceptions of the inanimate world and question what that means to me. When I think of inanimate, I think of a dry erase marker or a stapler. I do not think of nature. I find myself thinking of trees and flowers as animate, after all, they are living. Just because something isn't able to talk or "feel" something, does that determine it as inanimate?

Maybe trees have feelings, too. I'm going to go hug a tree now.

Science is Dead.

Did you know that dolphins have a language so complex they call each other by name? New research shows that bats do, too. On the Smithsonian website, you can read an article about how bats argue with one another. Octopuses and squid are color blind--only able to see black and white-- and have the ability to camouflage themselves. Western Scrub-Jays hold funerals for fallen birds, calling out so others can mourn.

I bring this up to say, I like the idea Paul Kingsnorth brought up when he said, "What would a novel look like if it were written by someone who sang to the forest, and believed it sang back?"

I feel as if nature has been singing the whole time, we just forgot how to listen. Maybe, in the height of technology, now is the time to listen again? If now is the time to listen, how do we even start?

Fresh Cut Grass

I read a while back that the scent of cut grass, that crisp green summery smell, was in fact blades of grass calling out to each other. The blades warning those around it of what was to come so they don’t fall to the same fate. How morbid to think that in that blade’s dying breath all it could think was “save yourself.” A yard freshly cut turns your bare feet green, a result of the onslaught and murder the blood of thousands, but a nice even lawn for us humans. Who invented lawns anyway?

               It feels almost selfish to think that humans are at the top of the ecological food chain. That we domesticate grass and other plants just to cut them down for our entertainment. Then there are those that very much do not belong to us – the Rainforest perhaps – that humans have claimed and subsequently destroyed. This feels like a lonely existence, that humans are wiping out and causing everything to go extinct because we believe we own the land. There is so much life around us to be ignoring it.

               Paul Kingsnorth mentioned several authors that are good examples of making the land into characters, but my mind kept thinking of one author that was unmentioned: J.R.R Tolkien. Particularly his ents. Remember that scene where Pippin and Merry were in Treebeard’s arms for hours while the forest communed and ultimately decided nothing was to be done? That is what I imagine is happening with the world right now. Until our world walks out of the forest and sees the wreckage that humans have caused, they might still hold a backseat. I for one am okay with trees rising up and fighting back and maybe take down a wood chipper or two.

Happy blogging, ribbit ribbit.

What does Game of Thrones, Winnie the Pooh, and Harry Potter have in common?

"Most classic novels in the western canon are examinations of the human psyche, or the relationships between small groups of people and their societies. They are studies of the individual human mind. But what about the mind of the world itself? If awareness, consciousness, feelings – life – all extend far beyond the human domain, why do novels continue to behave as if humans were the only actors? Why do we turn over the same exhausted soil again and again? What would a novel look like if it were written by someone who sang to the forest, and believed it sang back?" - Paul Kingsnorth

This quote stood out to me because of the general assumption that it would change the reality of the stories that we know. Perhaps, it just made me think of the relationship that nature plays within a story, for example; we know that Winnie the Pooh lives in The Hundred Acre Woods, but the woods aren't seen as alive unless they are being portrayed as evil and warped images. Does that function the purpose that the author is trying to make? What about the mandrakes from Harry Potter? They are alive, we know their purpose (even if it is just a plot device,) or is it because the main function of the story is about the human characters and not the plants that refutes whether the story has nature as a living machine. To dive deeper, if we look at Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire by George RR Martin) the character Bran goes on a journey where he has to become part of living web of the world through old trees and learns by the Children of the Forest. He is literally connected into the world and lives within it as it lives within him. Does this meet the same standards that Paul is looking for? 

Do you believe that we have lost touch with nature and the environment within modern Western literature? 

-A boy that wants a turtle... 

META - Ghosh & Global Warming

Many of the posters this week for the Ghosh work, of course, discussed climate change and global warming and the hand humans have had in contributing to climate change. Many raised questions about man's responsibility in climate change and how mankind can go about handling the change. Are we responsible? how are we responsible? and what can we do to improve what we are faced with, regardless of how it occurred and who started it? are all questions that have been raised about climate change. Others discussed how writers have a certain power of expression when it comes to dealing with climate change and ways of handling the situation.

The Happening is a terrible movie and I will stand by that

So. We don't want more stories like The Happening. That goes without saying. Mark Wahlberg is not that cute and we'd only watch it to hear Zooey Deschanel's sweet, angelic voice and even then we're watching it three glasses of wine deep with a group of friends so we can laugh when Wahlberg says we have to "stay ahead of the wind." Really, what does that even mean Mark Wahlberg? That's an impossible thing.

Terrible.

However, we've got some disagreements amongst our posters this week. Some of us feel that writing about climate change isn't happening because it is just too stressful to begin with. Some of us feel that there IS literature about climate change, it just exists within the YA realm. And still others think that climate change literature should not be backed away from, that if it does exist, there should without a doubt be more of it.

Just as long as it doesn't look like The Happening and Mark Wahlberg is not involved.

Amitav seems to have struck a nerve amongst our writers. We want more climate change fiction. We want other people to tackle it. We want people to read it. Understand it. Feel something about it. However, this particular poster thinks we need to ground ourselves a little bit.

Maybe climate change fiction doesn't exist because people don't buy it because people don't believe climate change is real.

It's a nonprofitable genre.

Maybe.

Muncie English Students On Climate Change And Fiction. What Do They Know? Do They Know Things? Let's Find Out!

In ancient Greece,

because that's how every exciting blog post starts,

but in ancient Greece, there was this concept called Kairos, which loosely translates to 'right time' or 'opportunity.' Basically, it means that your argument isn't shit if it isn't delivered at the right time.

In some of these blog posts, I've noticed this concept thrown down onto the metaphorical table of discussion as a key flaw in Amitav Cocktail's main argument. At the time, I have no doubt that his logic was sound. But media moves quickly in the 10's (tens? teens?), and something that seems unrealistic in terms of its ability to influence far and wide can switch its odds very quickly. Like dance hall, or the abrasive return of fanny packs.

As of right now, climate change denial is about on par with flat earthers on the 'Well That's Not A Smart Thing To Agree With" scale. Yet its prevalent enough to warrant concern about our fiction, our media, our future generations' ability to do more than just talk about it. Attempt to correct the errors of climate change is a massive undertaking that seems like a world of effort - because it is. A single person probably might have trouble realizing their true ability or potential to change the world for the better - especially with the political roadblocks that might intimidate them on the way.

Back to cli-fi. First, terrible biting of sci-fi in terms of name-brand recognition. Second, perhaps some of the posters were write in the notion of there being an increasing amount of popular stories dealing with climate change. But, as mentioned previously, climate change still has its fair share of doubters/counter-lobbyists. Whatever amount of media there is on it, it's not enough. This is an issue that un-ironically affects every living thing on the planet. With those stakes, we can't afford to allow ignorance to plant its seeds like a weird seed planter that hates Al Gore.

If you're writing a story or work that you might consider too heavy-handed with it's portrayal of climate change, here's my take: no hand is too heavy for a weight as heavy as the earth. Go hard or go home. Fuck subtlety. If the threat to our planet continues, then there'll be no people. If there's no people, there's no readers. If there's no readers, there's no writers. And if there's no writers, then what in the hell are we going to do with these English degrees? I'm not the teaching type!

-a water type without a trainer

Climate Change in Fiction

When reading Amitav Ghosh's article about the lack of climate change in literary fiction, I at first felt skeptical. Including the examples that Ghosh provided in the article, I was also able to name a few other short stories and novels that I had read dealing with subject. However after taking a closer look, I realized that all of these works were framed and constructed as disaster pieces. All of these works dealt with climate change at its worst. Most of these included subjects like: tsunamis taking over entire cities, tornados destroying small towns, or even earthquakes breaking off an entire state from our country. All of these scenarios were extreme, we as humans have pushed "Mother Nature" too far and now we must pay the consequences. Which brings me to my question, why do we treat climate change as if it is something that is entirely out of our control?

What's great about literary fiction is that writers are able to discuss and question social norms and problems that we abide to. In the past year I have read multiple readings dealing with police brutality, the struggles of sexuality and identity in Western civilization, and immigration. I am not saying that climate change  is heavier than these other topics, I  do believe that latter carry more weight. However, climate change is still a pressing issue. But why we have ignored climate change? I understand that it is easier to focus on the individual, compared to trying to hone in on an entire civilization, but why have we completely turned our backs on the subject?

Why do we treat climate change as if it's something that's already set and done?

Straying away from literary fiction, I think it is also important to discuss how climate change is portrayed in the media. While I believe that it's important that people acknowledge climate change. I feel as if the media has twisted the narrative on climate change. We have placed the weight of climate change on the shoulders of the consumers, instead of targeting the producers, instead of targeting the beasts functioning and thriving under capitalism. I believe that this has also had an effect on the discussion of climate change in literature, because of instead of seeing this as a growing societal problem, we see this as a problem that we must face as individuals.

Crisis of Culture

It does not really snow in Indiana anymore, and not once have I thought to write about that. When I think about why, I remember the fondness I had for snow as a child. I think maybe I do not write about it's absence is because it saddens me that we do not see it anymore.
Ghosh writes about culture being a driving force in the changing environment. We have taken more now that mother nature can give, and now we have to watch the story unfold.
We have overwatered lawns.
We have purchased massive vehicles, sucking gas and giving off fumes.
We have massive pools filled with gallons of water.
We have flattened forests for the lumber we need.
And the worst part is, we did it all to live a more lavish life.
Our "Land of Plenty" attitudes have created the environmental issues we see. I think the worst part is that we have the information, most do not care.
I believe writers do not write about climate change because it is all changing so rapidly we do not know how to process. Additionally, every writer I have ever met feels everything just a little deeper. Their hearts are always a little more full of emotion. I think that is why I do not particularly write about climate change, its not easy saying goodbye to piles of snow.
Ultimately, I want to know if my peers feel like this as well. Do you perhaps avoid this topic in your work because its uncomfortable?

Amitav Ghosh: where is the fiction about climate change? It's literally everywhere

Ok, so first of all, I think this article is a bit outdated. In just the last two years, stories about climate change have become increasingly popular.  Additionally, I'm not sure why the author cites a bunch of movies in his argument, when the article is asking why there isn't enough climate change in fiction. Yes, some of them are adaptations of novels, but still I think a better example could have made his argument stronger.

Secondly, the article doesn't seem to address Young Adult fiction as a source for climate change fiction. This is problematic, because it doesn't recognize YA as a serious part of fiction literature. I would argue that it is perhaps the most important area for climate change to be a theme, as its readers are likely the demographic who will be most affected by climate change and need to have a role in it.

There are so many YA novels that have running themes that involve climate change, and do not involve sci-fi elements like extra-terrestrials. In fact, YA has a whole sub-genre called "eco-fiction" that addresses many environmental issues.  (a list can be found here:http://guides.library.illinois.edu/c.php?g=347864&p=2345360)

Amitav "Oh My" Ghosh and Why Fiction and Climate Could Coexist

Amitav Ghosh’s article about climate change and fiction does raise realities and concerns valid for anybody in the writing community, however loosely it may be. We don’t often see many fictional media texts that use climate change as the forefront or vehicle for their story or its arc. He creates an honest perception of the public’s assumed interests and the originator’s intent to sell an idea as both compelling and probable. With this in mind, my question is simple: What texts have you seen or listened to that did use climate change in fictional realms that do not branch off into the surreal/magical, terrifying, or apocalyptically romantic? A follow up question: What dignifies the sense of improbability for readers and observers? Is it the lack of knowledge, disregard of the truth, confusing rhetoric and language, or something else entirely? If you believe it to be something else, why and what makes our public (including us) so disconnected with this crossover facet of science and of literature?

“…let us make no mistake: the climate crisis is also a crisis of culture, and thus of the imagination.”

-Amitav Ghosh, “Where is the fiction about climate change?”

As a clear advocate for all sides of a conversation, do you believe newer generations of writers will utilize social topics such as climate change to slide their fictional stories into a relevant mainstream, nonfictional debate and discussion? In other words, could we use available fiction texts to progress those in the science community and, in turn, to the public’s perceptions? We have grown in a time of retelling old stories in new ways. And we have lived in a world mostly accepting of climate change and been immersed in these discussions ever since Bush’s presidency. I’d like to believe that this new but very real environmental development isn’t being used not because it is boring or difficult to latch onto without adding characters like a magical elf, hungry zombie, or something like, let’s say, an authoritative tyrant with the mental capacity of an irrational and rash decision-making leader of a country’s Twitter account, but because the newness of climate change (historically speaking in comparison to others) is tough to tackle in an extended form without a predetermined outline for doing as such.

One concept stuck out from the text to me, to paraphrase: nature does not make leaps, it demolishes in an unpredictable manner. Isn’t this true for all first-time instances and ideas? When Gustave Whitehead said, “Yeah, I’ll fly this bat-like contraption before those brothers in North Carolina…”, was the public going to believe him? Frankly, a quick search proves it is still being debated within the aviation community. So, what does this have to with the climate crisis? Because it is new, people will find it unthinkable. Do you think this is the issue with fiction and climate change?

Lastly, can audiences remain interested in high science-based fiction like climate change? Do we have so few examples of novels (and even poems) because of appeal? Can climate change sell as a backdrop and driving force? If we look at a medium experienced more by Westernized communities, it might be apparent. With The Day After Tomorrow, critics went after “scientific inaccuracies” and it holds just above a 40% on Rotten Tomatoes. With The Happening, well, it has an 18% on Rotten Tomatoes. Critics seem unsure of these films, but when we peer into audience share, we see a slightly different story. The first film was the sixth-highest grossing film in 2004. The latter eventually made over $100 million in profit from the box office. Even if those viewers found the films, at least, semi-unfavorable, they found it fascinating enough to spend money on it. My last claim is that people were and remain attracted climate change concerns, we just don’t have the mode or storytelling blueprint for (objectively for the majority) successful media.

Your ever-fearful being,

-       PanLibDem

Meta- "Artificial" Nature

There was a lot of points made in both the launch and the query posts for our first blog assignment. Each writer had their own reaction and thoughts on both the of the readings; "The End of Nature" by Bill Mckibben and"Nature is Everywhere" by Emma Marris. A trend I saw in the post was the concept of "artificial" nature and how what we call nature is in reality not true nature. The natural "true" wilderness has been taken out by human influence and although it has not gone extinct it still suffers from human's control over it. We are not connecting with nature but subjugating it to our own whims. When you mow your lawn is that not pushing nature back so you have a nice lawn to look at? Is what we do in nature truly connecting with it? Does being in a park and hiking trails or having picnics connect us to nature? Are we able to really relate to nature? 

META - Invasion of Body Snatchers

The launch and query writers for our first week of posts, fell into a trend of writing about how we connect to nature as humans. The writers have adverse reactions to the pieces discussed; “Nature is Everywhere” by Emma Marris and “The End of Nature” by Bill McKibben. A thread throughout the variety of interpretations is a simple question. How do we relate to nature? Is it as simple to say that humans are destroying everything in its path and not connecting, or is there a connection in the small acts like; clean-ups, picnics, a hike, and more. To dive even deeper, is there nature we believe we are connecting to even real? This thought-provoking inquiry made an appearance in a few pieces for the week, and it left an unsavory taste in my mouth, like watching Invasion of the Body Snatchers too many times.

-          I need to go camping more often…

Wild

There really are no true ‘wild’ spaces. This goes for national and state parks which are groomed and controlled with fire, the management of permissible species, stay-on-the-trail rules, etc. They’re controlled carefully, and as Emma Marris says, “it takes a lot of work to make these places look untouched.” If we go to these parks and spaces labelled as showcasing ‘wilderness’ and ‘wildlife’, (which, no, we don’t necessarily control the animals, their individual movements and behaviors, so they are still free-roaming animals) how much are we really interacting with a nature as Bill McKibben describes, a world separate from humans?

Marris questions whether this is truly interacting with nature, (her working definition as that which is marked by the presence of multiple species, of thriving life) since humans and especially children, can’t do anything at these parks. We can’t climb the trees. We can’t take the pine cones or pick the flowers. We can’t dig up the dirt with our fingernails. We can’t veer off the trail. There’s no room to tinker.

So I’m left wondering (a lot), how do you connect with nature? Do you have a picnic, hike, sit and look, wait until no one's around so you can breathe, break the rules, and get your feet dirty? What do you do in this space? Where is Nature for you? (inside yourself as a deep-seeded feeling that it gives you, or just under the trees on campus? ...ah)

Bill McKibben Is Sad

My mom used to mall walk. Well, not in a mall. My mom used to mall walk in my high school after hours. If that makes sense. She’d go round and round and round the second floor. She’d stare at the same lockers. Breathe in the same, musty air.

My mom was also on a committee to build a nature walk through the outskirts of my home town. The phrase “build a nature walk” is contradictory to me. And also seemingly to Bill McKibben. For humans to build an almost sidewalk like construction through what could be considered wilderness, tames it. Makes it no longer wilderness, but a human-tainted park. When McKibben references walking through Mill Creek, he says it was, “… changed profoundly as when it shifted from pristine and untracked wilderness to mapped and deeded and cultivated land.”

Bill McKibben seems to feel the way I do, that true wilderness and nature is now even harder to find. In his words, we have built a “human creation,” and have destroyed the wild. So my question for you is, do you think we can still find wilderness, even with our destruction and power?