12wonderY
I promised weeks ago that I was going to start quoting Michael Pollan.
I’ve been working my way haphazardly backwards in his writings. He always has something valuable to say. And when I finally listened to his seminal book Second Nature, I knew it was time to dialogue back. I was so delighted with his writing structure, his analogies, his perspective, and particularly his phrasing, that I invested in a paperback, because I knew I wanted to pore through it with a pen and marker, revisiting and savouring.
I’m skipping chapter 1. There are plenty of nuggets of good writing there, but it serves mostly as a touchstone for Michael himself. The chapter is his summary of adolescent gardening experiences. In his case, the gardening gene skipped a generation, and his tales of his dad and his lawn are funny, but not pertinent to the books’ mission.
The rest of the book is divided into the seasons, each containing two or three chapter essays on a particular theme.
Spring starts with a meditation on what a garden is. Titled ‘Nature Abhors a Garden,’ it begins the theme that carries through the book on Nature vs Culture. He describes his first gardens as an adult and a city dweller newly moved to the countryside, and his education, in the form of a particular woodchuck, weeds and other pests. To fence or not to fence? We get a cultural history of the concept of garden being a space enclosed – guarded. He compares European practices with American philosophy. Unfenced is a democratic ideal, he says.
His broad analogy in this chapter likens his activities to the Vietnam war, culminating in the ‘burning the village to save it’ scenario. After his experiment of a gasoline fire in the woodchuck den, he stops to think about those consequences. Here is Michael Pollan’s pivot point. He examines the intellectual and moral materials here and commits to a new path, forging it between ‘domination’ (a lawn is “a no-man’s- land patrolled weekly with a rotary blade”)and ‘acquiescence.’ “Dudleytown (a local village lost to nature) made me see that the woodchuck was no free-agent pest, snacking on his own account. He was part of a larger, more insidious threat: he labored on behalf of the advancing forest.”
Pollan resolves the Nature vs Culture question by the argument that humans, by their nature, are manipulators, modifiers of their surroundings. He likens a garden fence to a beaver dam . He enlists nature to help him patrol the boundaries, with mantises standing sentry and ladybugs running search-and-destroy missions.
His main revelation here is the conclusion that “It depends on me acting like a sane and civilized human, which is to say, as a creature whose nature is to remake his surroundings, and whose culture can guide him on questions of aesthetics and ethics. What I’m making here is a middle ground between nature and culture, a place that is at once of nature and unapologetically set against it; what I’m making is a garden.”
He is a poet.
“…whereas a doe – nervous, and possessing perhaps a more developed sense of shame – will nibble a plant here, a shoot there, and then, startled by a falling leaf or something equally perilous to a two-hundred pound mammal, dash off…”
The woodchuck’s burrow – “…and there it was: a large ugly mouth set into the hillside with a pile of freshly dug soil arranged beneath it like a fat bottom lip.”
And I love his characterization here:
“What distinguishes cultivated fruits and vegetables is that they contain carbohydrates, proteins and fats in greater concentrations than most wild plants. They stick out in the natural landscape like rich kids in a tough neighborhood. This is where the animals come in. The woodchucks, deer and raccoons are the flora’s great levelers, making sure there are no undue concentrations of nutritional wealth in the landscape; they’d consider themselves democrats if they considered at all. They want to redistribute my protein.”
I’ve been working my way haphazardly backwards in his writings. He always has something valuable to say. And when I finally listened to his seminal book Second Nature, I knew it was time to dialogue back. I was so delighted with his writing structure, his analogies, his perspective, and particularly his phrasing, that I invested in a paperback, because I knew I wanted to pore through it with a pen and marker, revisiting and savouring.
I’m skipping chapter 1. There are plenty of nuggets of good writing there, but it serves mostly as a touchstone for Michael himself. The chapter is his summary of adolescent gardening experiences. In his case, the gardening gene skipped a generation, and his tales of his dad and his lawn are funny, but not pertinent to the books’ mission.
The rest of the book is divided into the seasons, each containing two or three chapter essays on a particular theme.
Spring starts with a meditation on what a garden is. Titled ‘Nature Abhors a Garden,’ it begins the theme that carries through the book on Nature vs Culture. He describes his first gardens as an adult and a city dweller newly moved to the countryside, and his education, in the form of a particular woodchuck, weeds and other pests. To fence or not to fence? We get a cultural history of the concept of garden being a space enclosed – guarded. He compares European practices with American philosophy. Unfenced is a democratic ideal, he says.
His broad analogy in this chapter likens his activities to the Vietnam war, culminating in the ‘burning the village to save it’ scenario. After his experiment of a gasoline fire in the woodchuck den, he stops to think about those consequences. Here is Michael Pollan’s pivot point. He examines the intellectual and moral materials here and commits to a new path, forging it between ‘domination’ (a lawn is “a no-man’s- land patrolled weekly with a rotary blade”)and ‘acquiescence.’ “Dudleytown (a local village lost to nature) made me see that the woodchuck was no free-agent pest, snacking on his own account. He was part of a larger, more insidious threat: he labored on behalf of the advancing forest.”
Pollan resolves the Nature vs Culture question by the argument that humans, by their nature, are manipulators, modifiers of their surroundings. He likens a garden fence to a beaver dam . He enlists nature to help him patrol the boundaries, with mantises standing sentry and ladybugs running search-and-destroy missions.
His main revelation here is the conclusion that “It depends on me acting like a sane and civilized human, which is to say, as a creature whose nature is to remake his surroundings, and whose culture can guide him on questions of aesthetics and ethics. What I’m making here is a middle ground between nature and culture, a place that is at once of nature and unapologetically set against it; what I’m making is a garden.”
He is a poet.
“…whereas a doe – nervous, and possessing perhaps a more developed sense of shame – will nibble a plant here, a shoot there, and then, startled by a falling leaf or something equally perilous to a two-hundred pound mammal, dash off…”
The woodchuck’s burrow – “…and there it was: a large ugly mouth set into the hillside with a pile of freshly dug soil arranged beneath it like a fat bottom lip.”
And I love his characterization here:
“What distinguishes cultivated fruits and vegetables is that they contain carbohydrates, proteins and fats in greater concentrations than most wild plants. They stick out in the natural landscape like rich kids in a tough neighborhood. This is where the animals come in. The woodchucks, deer and raccoons are the flora’s great levelers, making sure there are no undue concentrations of nutritional wealth in the landscape; they’d consider themselves democrats if they considered at all. They want to redistribute my protein.”
22wonderY
Chapter three is a short reflection on lawns called ‘Why Mow?’
Pollan reports some US totals - acreage, pesticides, fertilizers and such.
He notices “an unmistakable odor of virtue hovers over a scrupulously maintained lawn.” Homeowners’ proper observance of the conventions are “taken as an index to our character.”
He mentions a particular homeowner in Potomac, Maryland whose neglect of his yard in a very expensive community pissed off his neighbors. I wonder if that’s the property I noted next door to a house I appraised in the mid-80s. The man was constructing a dry moat and the house had begun to look like a haunted house. It had a very immediate effect on property values.
A couple of notable images -
I tired of the endless circuit, pushing the howling mower back and forth across the vast page of my yard, recopying the same green sentence over and over: “I am a conscientious homeowner. I share your middle class values.”
I spent part of one afternoon trying to decide who, in the absurdist drama of lawn mowing, was Sisyphus. Me? The case could certainly be made. Or was it the grass, pushing up through the soil every week, one layer of cells at a time, only to be cut down and then, perversely, encouraged to start the whole doomed process over again?
Lawns are nature purged of sex and death. No wonder Americans like them so much.
Pollan reports some US totals - acreage, pesticides, fertilizers and such.
He notices “an unmistakable odor of virtue hovers over a scrupulously maintained lawn.” Homeowners’ proper observance of the conventions are “taken as an index to our character.”
He mentions a particular homeowner in Potomac, Maryland whose neglect of his yard in a very expensive community pissed off his neighbors. I wonder if that’s the property I noted next door to a house I appraised in the mid-80s. The man was constructing a dry moat and the house had begun to look like a haunted house. It had a very immediate effect on property values.
A couple of notable images -
I tired of the endless circuit, pushing the howling mower back and forth across the vast page of my yard, recopying the same green sentence over and over: “I am a conscientious homeowner. I share your middle class values.”
I spent part of one afternoon trying to decide who, in the absurdist drama of lawn mowing, was Sisyphus. Me? The case could certainly be made. Or was it the grass, pushing up through the soil every week, one layer of cells at a time, only to be cut down and then, perversely, encouraged to start the whole doomed process over again?
Lawns are nature purged of sex and death. No wonder Americans like them so much.
3reading_fox
>2 2wonderY: "Lawns are nature purged of sex and death. No wonder Americans like them so much."
That's gloriously cynical I like it a lot.
I've read two of his other works, maybe I should try this one too.
That's gloriously cynical I like it a lot.
I've read two of his other works, maybe I should try this one too.
4labwriter
Thank you for your posts here! Great stuff. I've never read any Michael Pollen. Obviously he's someone I would like to know. I think I might start with an early one, Second Nature: A Gardener's Education.
I'm looking forward to what he has to write about lawns. Probably like a lot of people, Mr. lab grew up in a town where vast amounts of lawn indicated status. A block down from where he lived were the town's professionals--judges, doctors, etc. I guess this would have been in the 1960s. It evidently wasn't "done" in that micro-community to hire someone to mow your lawn. That was the job of the (male) homeowner or "maybe" an older son. It was also an unwritten rule that no one broke (or else be very publicly shamed) that the lawns would all be mowed on the same day--probably Saturday. I think those lawns definitely were a statement of shared values and an index of character--for good or ill. I'm not making a judgment, but rather an observation.
I'm looking forward to what he has to write about lawns. Probably like a lot of people, Mr. lab grew up in a town where vast amounts of lawn indicated status. A block down from where he lived were the town's professionals--judges, doctors, etc. I guess this would have been in the 1960s. It evidently wasn't "done" in that micro-community to hire someone to mow your lawn. That was the job of the (male) homeowner or "maybe" an older son. It was also an unwritten rule that no one broke (or else be very publicly shamed) that the lawns would all be mowed on the same day--probably Saturday. I think those lawns definitely were a statement of shared values and an index of character--for good or ill. I'm not making a judgment, but rather an observation.
5tardis
I'd like to read it, too, but I just looked and my library doesn't have it. I'll have to submit a request that they purchase it. It's odd - they seem to have everything else he's written. Not sure why they don't have that one.
Lawns sure do get people up in arms. We have everything in my neighbourhood: fake grass, no grass replaced by rocks, no grass replaced by plants and mulch, manicured and perfect, mowed but weedy, rarely-mowed weedy wilderness. I have a hate on for fake grass and acres of rocks with no other points of interest, but otherwise I have trouble caring. A bit of lawn makes a nice contrast for the flower beds. A lush carpet of perfectly trimmed monoculture is kind of attractive. I just can't be bothered. I never water or fertilize my lawn. I have made peace with the dandelions, and actually love the clover in my grass. I do mow, but I use a mulching mower and never collect the clippings - it's healthier for the lawn if they just fall back to decompose and enrich the soil.
Lawns sure do get people up in arms. We have everything in my neighbourhood: fake grass, no grass replaced by rocks, no grass replaced by plants and mulch, manicured and perfect, mowed but weedy, rarely-mowed weedy wilderness. I have a hate on for fake grass and acres of rocks with no other points of interest, but otherwise I have trouble caring. A bit of lawn makes a nice contrast for the flower beds. A lush carpet of perfectly trimmed monoculture is kind of attractive. I just can't be bothered. I never water or fertilize my lawn. I have made peace with the dandelions, and actually love the clover in my grass. I do mow, but I use a mulching mower and never collect the clippings - it's healthier for the lawn if they just fall back to decompose and enrich the soil.
6labwriter
>5 tardis: "A lush carpet of perfectly trimmed monoculture is kind of attractive. I just can't be bothered."
I laughed over that one. I never thought I would have to think about grass, until I bought this 1956 ranch. {{rolls eyes}} The one thing I absolutely HATE is the lawn replaced by rocks. Also "volcano rocks," anywhere. I think that's what they're called--lava rock, whatever.
For people who are impaired, and that's the best they can do, then God bless. But good grief, otherwise....
I have some of those volcano rocks in a bed out in front. Their days are numbered!--haha.
I laughed over that one. I never thought I would have to think about grass, until I bought this 1956 ranch. {{rolls eyes}} The one thing I absolutely HATE is the lawn replaced by rocks. Also "volcano rocks," anywhere. I think that's what they're called--lava rock, whatever.
For people who are impaired, and that's the best they can do, then God bless. But good grief, otherwise....
I have some of those volcano rocks in a bed out in front. Their days are numbered!--haha.
7Lyndatrue
>6 labwriter: Well, there it is. I've always said that lawn is what you plant until you decide what you want to go there. I've ripped out about 1/4 of the original lawn, and replaced it with garden beds.
I've also begun (starting in 2014) to encourage the Bermuda Grass, and only fight it when it looks to invade a garden bed (or too close to the drip line for a tree). I use Mother of Thyme (a creeping variety) in various paths. It winters over well, and is lovely 8 months of the year.
I'm doing my best not to start planting things in little potting soil cups, since there's no chance at all that they can go in the ground in March.
I've also begun (starting in 2014) to encourage the Bermuda Grass, and only fight it when it looks to invade a garden bed (or too close to the drip line for a tree). I use Mother of Thyme (a creeping variety) in various paths. It winters over well, and is lovely 8 months of the year.
I'm doing my best not to start planting things in little potting soil cups, since there's no chance at all that they can go in the ground in March.
8tardis
There's one house not far from us that has put 2-inch diameter rocks over their entire yard, except for the concrete driveway and sidewalks. The only plant on the whole place is one ugly green ash (or possibly Manitoba Maple) in the middle of the front yard that drips leaves and aphids into the rocks so they always look messy. The whole thing is accessorized with a chain-link fence. Horrific.
I don't mind volcanic rock if there's only one big one as an accent feature. Small chunks used as mulch are terrible. I have strong feelings on mulch in general. Dyed bark mulch is Bad. Mulch on top of landscape fabric is Bad, even worse if any portion of the landscape fabric is visible.
I don't mind volcanic rock if there's only one big one as an accent feature. Small chunks used as mulch are terrible. I have strong feelings on mulch in general. Dyed bark mulch is Bad. Mulch on top of landscape fabric is Bad, even worse if any portion of the landscape fabric is visible.
9labwriter
>7 Lyndatrue: Lynda and >8 tardis: Jane: Love this discussion here. You are women after my own heart.
I will feel it a victory for every inch of grass I kill and replace. (grin)
Oh, mulch--most of it is so horrible. Landscape fabric--ack! And yes, the chain link fence goes well with the rock.
I will feel it a victory for every inch of grass I kill and replace. (grin)
Oh, mulch--most of it is so horrible. Landscape fabric--ack! And yes, the chain link fence goes well with the rock.
102wonderY
I went into the antiques mall looking for something else, but I came out with another Pollan book for one dolla - The Botany of Desire. It's not one I had to read, but the price was right. Along side it was a nice copy of Old Herbaceous for the same price; and that had been on my wishlist.
11tardis
>10 2wonderY: I liked The Botany of Desire. I was in a used bookstore on the weekend and picked up a copy of Second Nature, but I've no idea when I'll get to read it. I've got such a pile right now. Still, from the discussions above, I may let it jump the queue :)
12labwriter
I'm reading Second Nature now and hugely enjoying it.
But front yards in the suburbs are supposed to contribute to a kind of visual commons, and to honor this convention, Grandpa was willing to deny himself the satisfaction of fully exploiting an entire acre of prime real estate.
But front yards in the suburbs are supposed to contribute to a kind of visual commons, and to honor this convention, Grandpa was willing to deny himself the satisfaction of fully exploiting an entire acre of prime real estate.
132wonderY
Chapter 4 is titled 'Compost and Its Moral Imperatives.'
I continue to nod my head as I re-read it, but the writing is a bit repetitive.
"...the successful compost pile seems almost to have supplanted the perfect hybrid tea rose or the gigantic beefsteak tomato as the outward sign of horticultural grace. What I read about compost gave me my first inkling that gardening, which I had approached as a more or less secular pastime, is actually moral drama of a high order." **nod**
He calls this aspect "the metaphysics of compost"
He introduces a term I have never heard before - humic acid and sends me off on a new research project. It is related to humin, which is also a recent term for me. (It's a fascinating topic for me, but we can talk about it later.)
He relates an amazing piece of data:
100 pounds of sand will hold 25 pounds of water.
100 pounds of clay will hold 50 pounds of water.
100 pounds of humus will hold 190 pounds of water.
More facts:
The chemicals in fertilizer gradually kill off the biological activity in the soil and ruin its structure.
and
Chemical fertilizer seems to weaken a plant's resistance to disease and insects.
J. I. Rodale is introduced here "greeted with the degree of respect that is usually accorded prophets. Even as late as the 1960s, he was generally regarded as a crank." **nod**
So, compost and virtue
"...composting flatters the old American belief that improving the land strengthens one's claim to it." **nod**
"...gardening becomes ... an act of redemption." **nod**
"Improving the soil improved the man." **nod**
Pollan does bring the discussion back to the nature/culture question briefly.
He cracks wise:
"It is as if making gardens were somehow unfair to the plants in them, a denial of their individuality and freedom. How long can it be before Americans rally behind the banner of plants' rights?"
He tries to brush off all this reverence of compost as "a silly fetish" in the last paragraph; but he is unconvincing. I can see "the halo of righteousness that has come to hover over compost and those who make it" just fine when he opens his mouth.
I continue to nod my head as I re-read it, but the writing is a bit repetitive.
"...the successful compost pile seems almost to have supplanted the perfect hybrid tea rose or the gigantic beefsteak tomato as the outward sign of horticultural grace. What I read about compost gave me my first inkling that gardening, which I had approached as a more or less secular pastime, is actually moral drama of a high order." **nod**
He calls this aspect "the metaphysics of compost"
He introduces a term I have never heard before - humic acid and sends me off on a new research project. It is related to humin, which is also a recent term for me. (It's a fascinating topic for me, but we can talk about it later.)
He relates an amazing piece of data:
100 pounds of sand will hold 25 pounds of water.
100 pounds of clay will hold 50 pounds of water.
100 pounds of humus will hold 190 pounds of water.
More facts:
The chemicals in fertilizer gradually kill off the biological activity in the soil and ruin its structure.
and
Chemical fertilizer seems to weaken a plant's resistance to disease and insects.
J. I. Rodale is introduced here "greeted with the degree of respect that is usually accorded prophets. Even as late as the 1960s, he was generally regarded as a crank." **nod**
So, compost and virtue
"...composting flatters the old American belief that improving the land strengthens one's claim to it." **nod**
"...gardening becomes ... an act of redemption." **nod**
"Improving the soil improved the man." **nod**
Pollan does bring the discussion back to the nature/culture question briefly.
He cracks wise:
"It is as if making gardens were somehow unfair to the plants in them, a denial of their individuality and freedom. How long can it be before Americans rally behind the banner of plants' rights?"
He tries to brush off all this reverence of compost as "a silly fetish" in the last paragraph; but he is unconvincing. I can see "the halo of righteousness that has come to hover over compost and those who make it" just fine when he opens his mouth.
142wonderY
I promise, I will get back to Second Nature.
But, right now I'm working through The Botany of Desire. I'm not nearly as taken by it. It's kind of a slog.
But, right now I'm working through The Botany of Desire. I'm not nearly as taken by it. It's kind of a slog.
152wonderY
I take it back. I'm now listening to the second chapter of The Botany of Desire, and Pollan is back to his wild and wordy self.
I'm not sure what exactly put me off in the first chapter on Apple trees. Perhaps the stale story of Johnny Appleseed, though Pollan did fill in a lot of that story.
I've got a print copy to hand as well.
I'm not sure what exactly put me off in the first chapter on Apple trees. Perhaps the stale story of Johnny Appleseed, though Pollan did fill in a lot of that story.
I've got a print copy to hand as well.
16fuzzi
>15 2wonderY: I missed this thread, love the quotes. I'm going to see if the library or used book store have any of his works. Is there one you'd recommend above others?
My mother used pesticides for years in the 1950's and early 60's, but suddenly she discovered Rodale and put away Rockwell. My first experiences with gardening was a 20'x15' (approximate) organic garden in which she grew the usual tomatoes, peppers, etc. She never got my father to build her a compost bin, but she'd dig holes around the plants and bury potato peelings and other vegetable scraps in order to improve the soil, which was mostly sand.
She started me on the Love of Gardening path. I was given a 4x4 section in her garden in which I planted Marigolds (big ones), radishes, and which I rarely weeded. I also got paid for hand-picking Japanese beetles, slugs, and Tomato hornworms.
I don't vegetable garden anymore. Physically I am unable to due much of the heavy work, but I still compost, and maintain (for better or not-so-well) my perennial gardens. And I have my two little ponds, on which I dote.
My mother used pesticides for years in the 1950's and early 60's, but suddenly she discovered Rodale and put away Rockwell. My first experiences with gardening was a 20'x15' (approximate) organic garden in which she grew the usual tomatoes, peppers, etc. She never got my father to build her a compost bin, but she'd dig holes around the plants and bury potato peelings and other vegetable scraps in order to improve the soil, which was mostly sand.
She started me on the Love of Gardening path. I was given a 4x4 section in her garden in which I planted Marigolds (big ones), radishes, and which I rarely weeded. I also got paid for hand-picking Japanese beetles, slugs, and Tomato hornworms.
I don't vegetable garden anymore. Physically I am unable to due much of the heavy work, but I still compost, and maintain (for better or not-so-well) my perennial gardens. And I have my two little ponds, on which I dote.
172wonderY
Yikes! I truly did get sidetracked. Life happens.
That bit in >13 2wonderY: about humus containing so much water - I saw a demonstration of that last year by an Extension agent. The visuals will astonish.
It’s been a while since i’ve picked up one of Pollan’s books. He writes a lot about food too. Second Nature is good place to start. He certainly is a lot of fun.
That bit in >13 2wonderY: about humus containing so much water - I saw a demonstration of that last year by an Extension agent. The visuals will astonish.
It’s been a while since i’ve picked up one of Pollan’s books. He writes a lot about food too. Second Nature is good place to start. He certainly is a lot of fun.
18fuzzi
Rats. The library has six of Michael Pollan's books, but not Second Nature: A Gardener's Education. I'll try ILL.
19MrsLee
I am resurrecting this thread. I would like to read Second Nature. I've only read one of his books, but enjoyed it. His quandary over a fence around his garden is an easy answer for me, since the creek area behind our house has become a huge homeless encampment. We are building a fence.
We took out our front lawn and my husband made a multi-level design of various colors of rocks. There are many special rocks there picked up over the years by my grandparents and parents. I have placed pots of succulents among them. I love it for the happy memories it recalls and many people have complimented us on it.
The grass in the backyard we have turned into meadow. Always something different growing or blooming there, and no mowing.
We took out our front lawn and my husband made a multi-level design of various colors of rocks. There are many special rocks there picked up over the years by my grandparents and parents. I have placed pots of succulents among them. I love it for the happy memories it recalls and many people have complimented us on it.
The grass in the backyard we have turned into meadow. Always something different growing or blooming there, and no mowing.
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