I am not sure that there is a convention when it comes to reviewing books, but it is probably customary to expound on the contents before declaring a verdict. Permit me to reverse the order here and to state immediately that I am entranced with this work. It is scholarly, extremely well written, and introduces me to an author hitherto unknown - to me at least. The title is apt - there was magic between the pages for this reader.
Darwin has been the bedrock of my belief system for almost as long as I have cogent memory of such things. Of Emily Dickinson I knew very little, confined only to popular poems that have been frequently cited in other works, and the phrase "Hope is the thing with feathers" that has been used almost ad nauseam in ornithological circles.
Dickinson and Darwin never met, and Darwin had but the briefest knowledge of Dickinson, (if any at all), through the conduit of a mutual friend, Thomas Wentworth Higginson. Darwin, however, featured in Dickinson's life in a substantial way, and she embraced his view of nature divorced from belief in divine creation. Neither Darwin nor Dickinson were regular churchgoers, in a time when lack of observance was viewed with suspicion and disapproval. The majesty of nature was sufficient testament to the origin of species long before hominids appeared on Earth. While some contrived to fit new discoveries, and unassailable fossil evidence, into biblical accounts, there was increasing skepticism about the Genesis creation story, and subsequent events such as the universal flood. The belief in the interconnectedness of all life was becoming ever more widespread.
At the time, the study of nature was viewed as suitable for girls and women, and their contribution to the growing fields of geology, biology, chemistry and other disciplines - science as it came to be called - was substantial. It was only when science became more specialized and careers opened up for men that it came to be viewed as a preserve for males, with women lacking the temperament and intellectual capacity for such esoteric pursuits.
Science was deemed more precise, more definitive, grounded in evidence, remote from literature and poetry, yet neither Darwin nor Dickinson ever accepted that this separation existed.
It is interesting to speculate how they would have reacted to the schism between the religious right and science today, where many advocate the teaching of creationism in science curricula. I suspect they would have been alarmed.
When Darwin died his fame was universal, his place in history assured. Dickinson, on the other hand, was an obscure New England poet, barely published. Darwin was entombed in Westminster Abbey with all the pomp and circumstance that such an honour demands; Dickinson was buried in a small cemetery close to her home.
The fact that they have been brought together in this riveting work is cause for great celebration.
I don't think it is an exaggeration to claim that I know Darwin well. Now it's time to get to know Emily Dickinson much better.
Thank you, Renée Bergland, for opening up a panoply of fascination for me. This is just the beginning.
Natural Magic: Emily Dickinson, Charles Darwin, and the Dawn of Modern Science - Princeton University Press
Renée Bergland
Hardcover - US$32.00 - ISBN: 9780691235288
440 pages, 59 black-and-white illustrations
6.125 x 9.25 inches (15.31 x 23.125 cm)
Publication date: 30 April, 2024