THE MEANINGS OF VEGETAL LIFE

This morning I made my usual coffee (cone filter, dark roasted, pre-ground) and then threw some sweetgrass strands onto the hot stove burner. Nothing fancy -- just the long blades the cats scattered around when they started sleeping in the box of drying sweetgrass. I pick the strands off the carpet to make this daily smudge. It’s an ordinary habit, a small household act. Then I go to the computer and find this on an academic listserv.

Manuscripts and proposals solicited for "CRITICAL PLANT STUDIES: PHILOSOPHY, LITERATURE, CULTURE" BOOK SERIES (RODOPI PRESS)

Series Editor: Michael Marder (IKERBASQUE / The University of the Basque Country, Vitoria)

The goal of the Critical Plant Studies, a new book series at Rodopi Press, is to initiate an interdisciplinary dialogue, whereby philosophy and literature would learn from each other to think about, imagine, and describe, vegetal life with critical awareness, conceptual rigor, and ethical sensitivity. Literary works featuring plant imagery may be analyzed with reference to philosophical frameworks, while philosophical discussions of the meanings of vegetal life may be enriched and supported with the tools of literary criticism. Another dialogic dimension of the series entails a sustained engagement between Western and non-Western philosophies and religious traditions, representative of the human attitudes to plants. This “cross-pollination” of different fields of knowledge and experience will become possible thanks to the fundamental role plants play in human life, regardless of their backgrounding or neglect.

Ethically stated, the aim of the book series is to encourage an incremental shift of cultural attitudes from a purely instrumental to a respectful approach to vegetal beings. This is particularly important at the current time of the global environmental crisis, when massive de-forestation, seed patenting, and profit-driven agriculture threaten the very future of life on the planet. Not only will works included in the series shed light on the being of plants, but they will also assist us in critically thinking through the crucial issues and challenges of the contemporary world. Bioethics and genetic engineering, of which plants were the first examples; the role of spirituality and holism in the techno-scientific age; the reliance of our imagination and creativity on elements of the “natural” world; global food shortages and sustainable agricultural practices; the roots of our thinking and writing in other-than-human, vegetal processes, such as growth and decay, germination and branching out, fecundation and fruition—books included in Critical Plant Studies will, in one way or another, touch upon these and related themes central to the philosophy, literature, and culture of the twenty-first century.

Thus, we are looking to publish a mix of specialized manuscripts and introductory texts on the theory, literary criticism, and religious or aesthetic appreciation of plant life. Each title in the series will combine at least two of the disciplines listed above, with preference given to cutting-edge methodologies in comparative literature, comparative philosophy, comparative religious studies, etc., and trans-disciplinary approaches. Analyses of plant-related writings and artworks from any historical period and geographical area will be welcome.

Please, forward all queries and proposals to michael.marder@gmail.com

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Ikerbasque Research Professor

Department of Philosophy

The University of the Basque Country,

Vitoria-Gasteiz

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I was okay with this until I got to “cutting edge.” I can even handle “trans-disciplinary” approaches. I mean I can talk about sweetgrass as incense, as ceremonial substance, as locally growing plant, as rhizomatous and therefore tied to the theories of DeLeuzeguattari about social action, and I can talk about it in Blackfeet life and as a tourist promotion. I could even mention the little home company that sells sweetgrass perfume. But is that what they want? I could contrast it with the culture of wheat, the rows and rows of genome-addled plants that cannot grow without human intervention and support. Sweetgrass grows where there’s an opportunity -- like soil disturbance or where there’s been a fire, like the little ones along the railroad where “hot boxes” (stuck wheels that scrape instead of turning) start them, and where the soil is wet, like in barrow pits along highways. You have to find it strand by strand, which makes it tough. So is that a difference in degree or kind?

How does local sensory information key into philosophical discourse and what does this particular plant, sweetgrass, have to do with being Basque? You could ask any local Basque sheepherder, I guess, since they’re likely to know it. In fact, being able to find sweetgrass in June sort of separates outsiders from insiders. I cheated. I ordered a “plug” from a nursery in the midwest and planted it in a box in my yard so it couldn’t escape. In a couple of years it has filled the box and I’m ready to give away plugs. Or should I sell them? Is it right to sell a kind of grass that has religious associations? How much should I explain about smudging?

Sweetgrass smells that way because of coumadin, the blood-thinning drug that in excess kills rats. (They die horribly, thrashing. No one tells you that.) MANY people take coumadin to prevent clotting. It’s in sweet clover, the yellow airy near-alfalfa that’s all over Montana roadsides in June, as well as in sweet pine which is really the balsam fir that the Sweetgrass Hills should have been named for. Is this the kind of stuff that this publication wants?

What about an article on sarvisberries and how they are used in pemmican? Then there’s ceremonial sarvisberry soup. What about tobacco: ceremonial substance, bundle-preservative, and social lubricant? I wonder whether any Christians will write about the meaning of unleavened bread and/or fermented grape juice, AKA bread and wine. Is this ethnobotany?

I looked up Michael Marder. He has THREE Magna Cum Laude degrees. He’s one of those rarefied philosophers spinning off of post-everything. Would he pay attention to a grounded old prairie thinker like me? I thought I’d find out for you so I sent him a copy of this. He said, “Thank you for your email. If you wish to propose a book for the series I would be happy to consider it.” Then he thought for a while and asked, “P.S. I am not sure how to take your characterization of my work as "spinning off of post-everything." My book on Jacques Derrida had 'post-deconstructive' in the title; other than that, I fail to see how you could reach this conclusion. It would be helpful, if you could clarify this point for me. Having said that, I will be looking forward to a potential book proposal from you, in case you are interested in submitting one to the series.”

In short, “if you come onto my turf, you will have to play by my rules.” Fair enough. Maybe one of my readers would like to propose a book. I don’t understand Marder’s rules and he never laid them out in rows. He DID respond to my email quickly and did NOT take my bait. In fact, this is one of the more intelligible calls for writing that show up on the academic listservs. I’ve always had a soft spot for Basques. I don’t think he is one.