Oh, Garrard...

My Limb

I reach to the heavens

hoping to grasp

the meaning of my existence

I struggle to comprehend

the haphazardness of 

my thoughts

they strain upward

searching for

something

it is elusive

yet,

before me

The puffs threaten

my purpose 

my being

my soul

my place

my place...

As I sit here thinking about Greg Garrard "critical approach" in his text, I'm left wondering, does he have one?

As I run down my limited memory of critical approaches (structuralism, reader-response, new historicism, new criticism, etc.), I'm left with thinking that Garrard is speaking as a social critic, green critic, and some post-colonial. That is, a critical stance that takes into account literature (e.g. Silent Spring), cultural indicators of various movements (e.g. the "Green" movement), and some discourse relative to a group that believes its agenda is correct, regardless of whom it affects (e.g. a "Western" mindset and hubris).

After reading the book, I'm left with the impression that Garrard is relying information, making readers think about various ideas from an ecocritical perspective, maybe even consider the bigger picture of our existence. But I don't believe he is really taking a stance--he is cautious, calculated. I think that's fine; yet, I am left thinking, "Ok, now what?"

Further, I'm not convinced (but I think I could be) that Garrard is an ecocritic. I'm content to call him a social critic with a green bent that relates material fairly well to that dynamic. But, of course, I'm not an ecocritic, so maybe I am not sure what one is to begin with.
Nevertheless, I did mark several passages I found useful. The trick, for me, is to figure out what the heck I marked or noted. As you can see, my methods may be a bit dated, but they do work. Kinda.
Certainly, one of Garrard's purposes is to make us, his readers, become more critical of our environment and how our interaction(s) within it affect the present and future (and to some degree, the past). However, I think Garrard does give ecocriticism a mighty big pair of shoes to fill; he writes, "Ecocriticism makes it possible to analyse critically the tropes brought into play in environmental debate, and, more tentatively, to predict which will have a desired effect on a specific audience at a given historical juncture" (14).

Now, I think we can read Garrard in a few different ways. First, the most common I think, is that people should exercise their understanding of the planet and make connections that will better sustain our living sphere. In a (biodegradable) nutshell, be more attentive to what we do to and on Earth and consider the consequences of those actions on the bigger picture.

However, I think a more spartan reading can be made; one that suggests a Marxist or anti-consumerism agenda where population growth decreases, use of nonrenewable resources comes to an end, and we live in the woods and instead of toi--let's just say, use pine cones. I envision Thoreau watching, and taking careful notes about, ants battling it out as he wanders around Walden.

But many of us can't be like Ol' Henry, so we accept the romance (or pastoral) position to make ourselves feel better about throwing the piece of paper on the ground and driving to school every day--the whole 2.4 miles (which was nothing back in the day).

But we are not bad people, we live the life we've been conditioned to live. This romance we tend to have with leaving it all behind and making it on our own out in "da wood" certainly has its appeal, but few of us (beyond Chris McCandless) would dare go out and really LIVE out there. Well, much beyond a weekend; we need our comforts--have we not earned them?

Once we step outside the hubris (a word I've grown rather fond of lately, so forgive me) of our pastoral and/or religious beliefs (and I'm hedging here, I know), then we consider wilderness and the reality of nature. Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my!  Garrard uses John Muir to demonstrate that there are many things in nature that can kill us (68). From my view, this observation offers a reality check to how we interact with the globe. Yet, the failing in Muir's assessment and others in the "Wilderness" chapter is that we are part of nature and can do our own tidy bit of damage to other species, even our own. Further, to extend (and flip) this concern, just because we are part of nature does not mean we are not responsible for it. At this point, I see this text's value as helping us build "a more effective rhetoric of transformation" (72).
Because we're all toast anyway in 2012....


Ok, I don't believe that, but lightning, literally, just struck outside my apartment, so I'm a little nervous.
Speaking of apocalyptic discourse, I think it certainly has become common place in our society, most notably, in our politics. But even again, apocalyptic rhetoric (or ecocriticism) forces us to take more responsibility, which is the recurring theme in Garrard's text.

I'm going to digress for a moment and throw a jab or two at Garrard, because I don't like how he's decided to handle Native American (American Indian) cultures or nations. In fact, I think his attempts to include them are naive and ignorant to the reality of that group's experience. Although his attempts may prove fruitful for many readers, the casual and nonchalant nature of his discussion, at times, puts those educated (to some degree) about Native American cultures in an uneasy position. One I find limited.

Nevertheless, Garrard's chapter on "Animals" makes readers consider an animals place in our culture--and ourselves in our own conception of animal. How is this useful? Again, Garrard is pointing to responsibility to each other and fellow dwellers of Earth.
I'm having to come back to this post time and time again because of loss of power or internet access, which is a testament to my (perhaps, our) dependence on technology. I digress. One of the statements Garrard is making is about how humans are the ultimate animals on Earth, and in being such animals, we control other animals. This control sets us up as the group responsible for the Earth's problems.

Many of us know about the island of plastic in the Pacific ocean called the Pacific Gyre (which Google won't show anyone); the same ocean that many animals depend on for food, but because of human trash, they are eating plastic instead of food.


It's a sad scene to be sure.
However, I want to return to the text (odd how I keep digressing from it, no?). Another useful aspect of Garrard's book that we as readers can take away is how we interact (or not) with nature. Consider in recent years (and currently on Discovery Channel) the number of nature shows demonstrating for us (as we sit comfy on our couch) the wonders around us: Blue Planet, Planet Earth, Life. These visual (and auditory) displays set before us, like we are kings, are what Garrard calls "ecoporn" (151). These programs could create a false impression of nature because viewers see what took weeks, or even months, to film compressed, edited, and chopped up (by commercials) in the space of forty-four minutes--the typical time for an hour long episode, minus the wonderful advertisements).

Garrard, I believe, begins to turn his work from an ethos, to logos, and finally to pathos argument, which is where he has been hinting at the entire time and what he has peppered his entire work with. By writing this way, he leads readers to the conclusion that we must look at the reality of our situation, understand how our culture(s) are influencing our global understanding, and gives us some firepower with which to take action. We, as scholars, have the ability to educate others about this balance of nature and culture and how it (among other things) could become a common component of our scholarship. In short, he is giving us another lens to see everything through--the lens of life.