A classic feminist text canonized in various disciplines, including both environmental history and science & technology studies. It critiques mechanistic conceptions of the universe, celebrating instead organic views of the universe (as living), particularly where those conceptions intersect with radical, subversive, and revolutionary millenarian movements.
There are some fantastic sections on deforestation, militarization, mining, machines, heretics, revolts, and feminist history. Despite some materialist objections to vitalism, this book by Merchant is widely celebrated by various Marxists, including Andreas Malm, who spoke of the book in this way:
“Not only capitalism is implicated in ecological destruction: so is patriarchy. This realisation animates ecofeminism, which has produced some work that is also aligned to Marxism, although much more needs to be done in this sphere. One classic of this current, which also stand as one of the best books of radical environmental history ever written, is Carolyn Merchant’s The Death of Nature: Women, Ecology and the Scientific Revolution. A stunning materialist analysis of ideas, it shows how aggressively dominating attitudes towards nature – and women – grew out of the capitalist property relations that first took hold in England. Other prominent ecofeminists with various degrees of Marxist commitment are Val Plumwood and Ariel Salleh.”
Some excerpts I particularly appreciated:
p. 2-3: The change in controlling imagery was directly related to changes in human attitudes and behavior toward the earth. Whereas the nurturing earth image can be viewed as a cultural constraint restricting the types of socially and morally sanctioned human actions allowable with respect to the earth, the new images of mastery and domination functioned as cultural sanctions for the denudation of nature. Society needed these new images as it continued the processes of commercialism and industrialization, which depended on activities directly altering the earth-mining, drainage, deforestation, and assarting (grubbing up stumps to clear fields). The new activities utilized new technologies-lift and force pumps, cranes, windmills, geared wheels, flap valves, chains, pistons, treadmills, under- and overshot watermills, fulling mills, flywheels, bellows, ex-
cavators, bucket chains, rollers, geared and wheeled bridges, cranks, elaborate block and tackle systems, worm, spur, crown, and lantern gears, cams and eccentrics, ratchets, wrenches, presses, and screws in magnificent variation and combination.
p. 29:
The ancient Greek philosophers Anaxagoras (500-428 B.c.), Theophrastus (370-278 B.C.), and Dionysius of Periegetes (fl. A.D. 86-96) believed that metals were plants growing beneath the earth's surface and that veins of gold were like the roots and branches of trees. Metals were believed merely to be a lower form of life than vegetables and animals, reproducing themselves through small metallic seeds.
A popular Renaissance belief held about mining was the metaphor of the golden tree. The earth deep within its bowels produced and gave form to the metals, which then rose as mist up through the trunk, branches, and twigs of a great tree whose roots originated at the earth's center. The large branches contained the great veins of minerals, the smaller the metallic ores.
p. 45: By the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, conflict was already evident over the use and control of technology for energy production. The energy of the preindustrial economy was drawn from renew- able sources-wood, water, wind, and animal, including human, power. Watermills had been introduced into Europe slowly ever since Roman times, reaching Great Britain by the eighth century and Scandinavia by the twelfth, and were used for grinding grain, fulling (or shrinking and thickening) cloth, sawing timber, extract- ing oil from olives, and making paper. …Problems arose over the control of wood- lands for the building of ships, the substitution of coal for wood in the trades as timber supplies became scarce, and the use of the lord-of-the-manor's watermill.2 The impact of access to resources for differing interest groups can be illustrated by selected examples chosen from three historically changing ecosystems-the farm, the fen, and the forest. …The use of the manor's watermill as energy for the grinding of grain was controlled by the lord, who raised revenue from its use by the villagers and tenant farmers. At harvest time, grain was hauled to the mill and, for a fee, ground into flour, a practice that encouraged peasants to keep hand-operated mills in their homes and therefore to resist the advent of wind and water as new energy sources. Lords were careful to see that competing mills were not erected on manor lands, but it was more difficult to prevent peas- ants from keeping hand-operated mills at home.
Handmills survived into the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries in areas devoid of sufficient waterways, as security against winter frost, summer drought, and siege. Hidden handmills thus competed with the manor mill, human muscle with the manor's centralized inanimate energy sources-water and wind.
Evidence of centuries of attempts by landlords to obliterate peasant handmills has been found in scattered documents.
p. 76-77: Ideas that stressed the common consent of the people and mutual will of the community represented a formulation of the organic theory at the communal or socialist end of the political spectrum. Despite numerous variations in local rural social stratification and economic patterns, the peasant society of much of western Europe can accurately be described in terms of cohesive community responsibilities and common traditions and exemplifies the communal variant of the organic model.
In the communal variant, both the law of God and nature dictated an original equality among the parts of the village community, cooperative land use, and communal sharing of tools and goods. Moreover, the body of the people had the right to choose its own head by elective right. Consent of the community must validate the actions of the village officials who remained parts of the whole and subordinate to it.
p. 77: Agrarian communism in such villages reached a new level of cooperation with the introduction of compulsory tillage in response to population increases and land shortages: all persons in the village plowed, planted, and harvested at the same time in order to increase productivity. In many central European communities, as family groups split, land was periodically redistributed, to equalize the fertility, productivity, and accessibility of plots. These variations on the model of the organic community were established widely over most of medieval and early modern Europe, surviving in much of central and eastern Europe well into the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
p. 197: The Rosicrucian movement bore similarities to the millenarian mystical anarchists. The reputed founder, Christian Rosenkreutz, was supposed to have been born in 1378 and his tomb to have been discovered in 1604, the year of general millenarian reformation signaled by Kepler's 1604 supernova. Like the original "people's messiah," crusader Emperor Frederick I, Christian Rosenkreutz had traveled to the East where he learned his wisdom from Eastern sages. Rosenkreutz, a Paracelsist physician, was .dedicated to the life of an itinerant doctor who wore the garb of the people of each locale.
The _second Rosicrucian manifesto, the Confessio, which appeared in 1615, linked the brotherhood to millenarian and religious movements that had called the pope the Antichrist:
p. 218: Many fulling mills, driven by water power and used for shrinking and thickening cloth, had been built along streams by the late twelfth century. These operated by the rotary action of cams that lifted large hammers and then released them to deliver a blow to the cloth in the vat below. The fulling mill was also pressed into service as the village washing machine.
By the end of the sixteenth century, watermills were used extensively in the lead and tin industries for smelting and stamping and for hammering iron bars and drawing iron into rods. Large watermills of the type employed in paper and gunpowder manufacture required capital outlays in the neighborhood of £1,500.
p. 226-227: In England, because of the political tensions between order and freedom, the clock metaphor eventually became more convincingly articulated as a balance, symbolic of regulating the balance of power and balance of trade. As the machine technologies and capitalist modes of trade and manufacture, already a part of the growth of medieval guilds, markets, and towns, evolved toward industrialized capitalist society, machines, calculations, and measurements were increasingly integrated into the ·commercial and industrial life of European society.
The philosophy that the world was a vast machine made of inert particles in ceaseless motion appeared at a time when new and more efficient kinds of machinery were enabling the acceleration of trade and commerce.
p. 236: By the early 1660s, the British navy had become distressed over the lack of tall timber to repair the masts and hulls of its ships, reducing its ability to defend the nation. Its commissioners and officers requested that the Royal Society study the state of the king's forest reserves. The English diarist and founding member of the Royal Society, John Evelyn (1620-1706), began an analysis of the destruction caused by wasteful land practices and lack of conservation methods and in 1662 published the results in his Silva, A Discourse of Forest Trees and the Propagation of Timber in His Majesty's Dominions. Increasing numbers of shipping vessels were needed for commercial trade, glass-works and iron-works needed charcoal for smelting, and additional forests had been cut for pasture. "Prodigious havoc" had been wreaked through the tendency not only to "cut down, but utterly to extirpate, demolish, and raze ... all those many goodly woods and forests, which our more prudent ancestors left standing," a devastation that had now reached epidemic proportions.1
p. 237: Since the mid-sixteenth century, England's forest reserves had been declining, in conjunction with rapid increases in population, trade, and the growth of industries that depended on wood. Writing of the shortage of timber in the 1660s, Samuel Pepys (1633-1703) exclaimed in his diary, "God knows where materials can be had."2 At the time of the Civil War and the Interregnum, widespread destruction had occurred in the forests of the king and the gentry. Forest supervisors had not performed their duties adequately. England, emerging from internal troubles and looking again to the external defense of the nation, found the "wooden walls" for her protection lacking. Something more in the way of wise management and conservation had to be ·instituted if England's military and commercial superiority were to be maintained "since our forests are undoubtedly the greatest magazines of wealth and glory of this nation, and our oaks the truest oracles of its perpetuity and happiness, as being the only support of the navigation which makes us feared abroad, and flourish at home."
In his Silva, Evelyn called for the institution of sound conservation practices that would contribute to steady economic progress. Like many other intellectuals of his generation, Evelyn was a religious moderate of Latitudinarian persuasion and social philosophy. Latitudinarianism, a religious compromise arising after the English Civil War, retained the Anglican's episcopal form of government, but denied its divine origin.
p. 258: ANNE CONWAY'S MONISTIC VITALISM. Whereas the Cartesians and the Cambridge Platonists, More and Cudworth, were dualists, Anne Conway, like Van Belmont, was a monist. In her philosophy, there was no essential difference between spirit and body and, moreover, the two were interconvertible. She distinguished her views sharply from those of Descartes and also from More and Cudworth on these points. Body was condensed spirit and spirit was subtle, volatile body. Body and spirit were not contrary entities, the first impenetrable and divisible, the other penetrable and indivisible, as More had held. Matter was not dead, "stupid," and devoid of life, as Descartes and the Cambridge Platonists had thought. For Lady Conway, an intimate bond and organic unity existed between the two. Body and soul were of the same substance and nature, but soul was more excellent in such respects as swiftness, penetrability, and life.10
If, as More asserted, spirit was the principle of motion in dead, unorganized matter, and if spirit could see, hear, and sense of itself, then it would have no need for body or sense orga·ns. But since the soul felt pain and grief when the body was cut or wounded, the two must be united and of one substance. Otherwise the soul, as an independent substance, could simply move away from the suffering of a damaged body and thereby be insensitive to it.
p. 261: Anne Conway radically opposed Hobbes and Spinoza, both of whom had reduced nature to a monistic materialism that denied any distinction between God and his creation. Like Conway, they accepted the interconvertibility of all things, but their materialism admitted no distinction between lower and higher forms and saw God as interconvertible with corporeal species.
p. 261-271: Anne Conway wrote that "in every creature, whether the same be a spirit or a body, there is an infinity of creatures, each whereof contains an infinity, and again each of these, and so ad infinitum."
Like Leibniz, who wrote that there was nothing dead or fallow in the universe, Conway asked, "How can it be, that any dead thing should proceed from him, or be created by him, such as is mere body or matter. . . . It is truly said of one that God made not death, and it is true, that he made no dead thing: For how can a dead thing depend of him who is life and charity?"
p. 272-273: Significantly, in this new age when God had become an engineer and mathematician, nature in Fontenelle's fantasia had become a housewife. "Nature is a great housewife, she always makes use of what costs least let the difference be ever so inconsiderable and yet this frugality is accompanied with an extraordinary magnificence, which shines through all her works; that is, she is magnificent in the design, but frugal in the execution."
Fontenelle's book was translated into English in 1688 by playwright Aphra Behn. Although she approved of the idea of instructing women in science, Behn found the Marchioness somewhat less than convincing, because for a student her comments vascillated between silly and excessively profound.
p. 280: Leibniz applied his interest in a universal logical language and mathematical method to practical inventions which would foster the capitalist spirit. His design for a calculating machine which he called a "living bank-clerk" would, he believed, be useful in business, surveying, military affairs, and astronomy. He worked on a new kind of pump that could be used to remove water from the Harz mines in Germany. He designed "catadoptic tubes" of mirrors and perspective lenses to improve the science of optics and a submarine to aid in navigating through storms, dangerous seas, and naval combats.
p. 285-286: Why did Newton attribute such importance to the concept of fermentation? Fermentation had had a long and clear historical connection with motion and activity and could be viewed as a source of violent change. From a political standpoint a ferment carried the connotation of agitation-the inflaming and fomenting of passions and tumult. A ferment could "work up to foam and threat the government." In alchemy and chemistry changes in the properties of metals were thought to be produced by a ferment operating within them. The action of yeast on dough and the brewing of beer produced an internal commotion and effervescence. All were examples of new motions generated in both living and nonliving things.19
Newton, at work on his queries to the Opticks in the early 1700s, still presumed these violent motions resulting from fermentation to be operative in cosmic chemical processes. The fermentation of sulfurous steams with minerals deep within the "bowels of the earth ... if pent up in subterraneous caverns burst the caverns with a great shaking of the earth," generating tempests and hurricanes, landslides and boiling seas. In the air fermentation caused lightning, thunder, and fiery meteors.20
But fermentation was not only an important cause of violent cosmic motions resulting from chemical reactions, it was also a cause of the life motions of animals and vegetables. It was responsible for "the beating of the heart by means of respiration," and of "perpetual motion and heat." Without fermentation as an active principle, "all putrefaction, generation, vegetation, and life would cease."
p. 288: Similarly, although the mechanistic analysis of reality has dominated the Western world since the seventeenth century, the organismic perspective has by no means disappeared. It has remained as an important underlying tension, surfacing in such variations as the Romantic reaction to the Enlightenment, American transcendentalism, the ideas of the German Naturphilosophen, the early philosophy of Karl Marx, the nineteenth-century vitalists, and the work of Wilhelm Reich. The basic tenets of the organic view of nature have reappeared in the twentieth century in the theory of holism of Jan Christiaan Smuts, the process philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead, the ecology movements of the 1930s and 1970s, alternative analyses in nuclear physics (the "bootstrap" model), and developmental theories in psychology. Some philosophers have argued that the two frameworks are fundamentally incommensurable. Although such a perception of the dichotomy is too extreme, as the fusions between the two perspectives discussed in previous chapters have shown, a reassessment of the values and constraints historically associated with the organic world view may be essential for a viable future.