Pollan reminds us, “Evolution doesn’t depend on will or intention to
work; it is, almost by definition, an unconscious, unwilled process. All it
requires are beings compelled, as all plants and animals are, to make more of
themselves by whatever means trial and error present” (xxi). Pollan’s use of language
in the phrase “to make more of themselves” is fascinating here. Is he “only”
talking about reproduction, or is he talking about something “more,” in
the way that Thoreau might make “more” of himself? Is he saying that “making
more” of ourselves is an unwilled process? (Is Thoreau compelled to acquire knowledge, or un-knowledge, because of his own willed
intentions—or because of some other unconscious mechanism at work?) Will seems to enter at the register of desire and ensuing reciprocation. Further
embedded within Pollan’s explanation of the presence of will is the nesting of
artificial and natural selection. The notion of “artificial,” he says, is
derived from the word “artifact: a
thing reflecting the human will” (xxii). Natural selection, on the other hand,
encompasses the “no teleology” idea (see last paragraph). Artificial selection incorporates both willed
and un-willed processes (humans might choose how to further “engineer” an
orange, but the genetic material available for that engineering is a result of previous
“natural” selection). (I hope I'm getting this right. Correct me if I'm not...this stuff is really still confusing to me.)
I really like the fact that even though Botany of Desire is at face-value a biography of plants, it must also be a biography of the human
& animal desires that allowed the plants “to make more of themselves.” The structure
of Pollan’s biography, we might say, is co-evolutionary. I’m wondering if we
could also say that biography and nature writing are literary spaces where,
metaphorically speaking, “artificial” and “natural” selections (/decisions)
co-evolve alongside one another. For example, nature writers have reasons for
writing and arranging their writing just-so, reasons influenced by preceding random
encounters and preferences (these would be the metaphoric “artificial”
selections), but at the same time, the genre seems to be hinged the “chance” of
the woods—the happening upon the cinnamon bear or the water lily (this idea
could perhaps also be applied to the notion of the biographical archive—the
structure or “revelation” of the biographical narrative often depends upon the “chance”
of the archive—what we happen to find when we aren’t looking).
This strange exchange of content and desire seems to me like it could partly
account for the lack of a teleological structure that we are more likely to
find in a novel, for instance. (Maybe certain types of poems also follow this “no-teleology”
line? I’m not sure.) It seems to me that all of the texts we’ve read so far
this semester are partly willed and partly un-willed. Traill, for instance,
seems almost “unconsciously” compelled to provide scientific fact &
description (including tips for how to use plants medicinally)—okay, this idea
is partly problematic, but if the purpose of the book is to provide information
to immigrants, then it seems like in some respects we could say that she is not
“choosing” her genre—but on the other hand (the willed hand), the structure of
the text is also driven by what her readers want for their gift book (poems,
pretty pictures, etc.).
Disclaimer: While I was never “against” evolution in the way that many of my religious middle and high school classmates were, I never really understood it until taking a “History of” class during one summer in college. We read a bunch of books on the subject, including a huge chunk of On the Origin of Species and some other stuff like Darwin’s Dreampond. It was during that class that I finally learned about the “no teleology” idea (in probably too simplistic but hopefully not erroneous terms: birds did not evolve feathers in order to fly but instead as a consequence of the genes carried forth through natural selection). I still consider this the first big turning point in my intellectual development—finally “sort of getting” evolution. Anyway, I’m still totally fascinated by the idea of “no teleology” (the reason for this post).
Disclaimer: While I was never “against” evolution in the way that many of my religious middle and high school classmates were, I never really understood it until taking a “History of” class during one summer in college. We read a bunch of books on the subject, including a huge chunk of On the Origin of Species and some other stuff like Darwin’s Dreampond. It was during that class that I finally learned about the “no teleology” idea (in probably too simplistic but hopefully not erroneous terms: birds did not evolve feathers in order to fly but instead as a consequence of the genes carried forth through natural selection). I still consider this the first big turning point in my intellectual development—finally “sort of getting” evolution. Anyway, I’m still totally fascinated by the idea of “no teleology” (the reason for this post).
Jessica--I have been meaning to mention (and keep forgetting to tell you) that one of my undergrads wrote a thesis on anti-teleology in Darwin, which you mind find interesting, because it comes out of a similar fascination. I can give out a link, if you like: he won an Honors award for his work and is now studying Science and Lit at Washington U (for the Ph.D.). I also liked the willed vs. unwilled--will add this to my comments above.
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