A review of this book in ‘National Review’ (Sept 2024) struck a chord. Dickinson’s and Darwin’s “desire for the integration and synthesis of the things of the material world, without sacrificing the sense that the physical universe remained a place of mystery and marvel,” suggested Baudelaire’s “Echoes” and “Correspondences”, or, better yet, Flannery O’Connor/Teilhard de Chardin’s “Everything that rises must converge.” Transcendentalism. Spiritualism. Electro-Magnetism. The 19th century mind, its worldview and constellations, remain a mystery to me. I had hoped in some small way to get inside Emily’s and Charles’ heads and those of their contemporaries.
To that extent, this book did not disappoint. I particularly appreciate the footnotes and bibliography, and look forward to reading “Darwin’s Bards” among other serendipitous discoveries. I’ve not read much of Dickinson and certainly less of Darwin himself, so I have that to look forward to. I feel a wee bit like Keats looking into Chapman’s Homer.
At the same time, I think the links-evolutionary or otherwise-from Darwin to Dickinson are a bit weak, to put it mildly. They both liked dogs. And flowers. James Russell Lowell was one of Darwin’s pallbearers and Emily read the Atlantic Monthly which JRL edited at some point and where Asa Gray’s July 1860 review of Origin of Species “was probably the first place Emily Dickinson learned of Darwin’s idea about evolution.” There are an awful lot of probably’s and maybe’s and may have’s and perhaps’s scattered throughout this book. I get it that not much is known of Emily’s life, but excessive speculation seems to be a mainstay here. Indeed, there may be as much or more of a connection (specifically, Thomas Wentworth Higginson) between Emily Dickinson and abolitionist John Brown as there is between Dickinson and Darwin. One must read this attentively.
I should also add that, as a biography of Charles Darwin, this is very enjoyable. When I listened to the National Review-sponsored podcast The Great Books (Episode 329) “On the Origin of Species”, I’d have thought that Ms. Bergland (the interviewee and author of this book) was an expert on Darwin rather than a professor of literature and creative writing. She seems to really know her Darwin.
There are very minor editorial errors in this book (at least two “it’s” that should be “its”) and a missing word here and there. There is some—too much—repetition and a certain amount of “chaos” at times, as if RB has too much material that all deserved to be included but was hard to integrate smoothly. Perhaps the editor could have tightened up some passages. I should mention that I do a LOT of underlining and !?*-ing, and there are a few places where I scribbled “rubbish”, “gibberish”, or “gag-worthy” in the margin. For the record, I wasn’t at all interested in RB’s religion, i.e., her Sermon on Climate Change with which she ended the book.
Given the tenuousness of the Darwin-Dickinson linkage, I found myself often reminded of a sentiment attributed to one George Tyrell to the effect that ‘looking deep into the well of history one often sees oneself’. I suppose the same is true when gazing through the telescope or microscope of history. We see there what we want to see, like the face of Jesus in a piece of avocado toast.
Nonetheless, in the end, I learned something about both the 19th century mind, and the 21st century mind. I’ll give this a solid 4.