September
28 , 2004: Michael Pollan promises a plant’s
perspective of the world in The Botany of Desire
and delivers a book about human nature. Inverting the natural
tendency to believe that people are somehow outside of nature,
he asserts that plants manipulate our desires to help them
survive and proliferate – that we are, in essence, rendered
"human bumblebees." Leaping across many genres,
the result is a joyful, informative, and fascinating book.
Pollan’s premise is reminiscent of the work of contemporary
philosopher Elaine Scarry, who believes made objects ‘know’
things about people. For example, a chair ‘knows’
something about the problem of weight and our need to relieve
that problem. Pollan contends that a flower ‘knows’
something about our ideas of and longings for beauty, and
(re)makes itself in order to best exploit them.
The domestication of the apple, for instance, Pollan declares,
is connected with our desire for sweetness. The mythic figure
of Johnny Appleseed—aka John Chapman—looms large
in this first chapter. Chapman planted apple trees across
the American frontier, spreading a coveted quality without
match: sweetness. Pollan attempts to deconstruct the legend
and portray Chapman and his intentions as they truly existed.
For example, the apples he planted were mostly not eaten fresh,
but were made into hard cider.
Chapman is equated with the Greek god Dionysus, who brought
wine – a catalyst for boisterousness - to civilization.
The blurred line between wildness/wilderness and a cultured
society is a reference point Pollan invokes throughout the
narrative. He is anxious to return human beings to the circle
of nature - despite our almost complete domestication of wilderness
- and the invocation of the Greek god is a clever way to navigate
that idea. Chapman’s depiction is also in a way the
prototype of the author himself; they both had the imagination
to subvert the human role in domestication and emphasize the
role of the plant.
The citizens of Holland were unable to achieve such a perspective
during a brief three-year span in the 17th century. They were
caught in a whirlwind of fevered desire for trade and tulip
bulbs. A seemingly human phenomenon, “Tulipmania”,
as it has since become known, is revealed as a great accomplishment
for a particular flower species. “Of course, their willingness
to take part in the moving game of human culture has proven
a brilliant strategy for their success,” Pollan notes,
“for there are a lot more roses and tulips around today,
in a lot more places, than there were before people took an
interest in them. For a flower the path to world domination
passes through humanity’s ever-shifting ideals of beauty.”
The beauty of the tulip became, for a time, more valuable
than money.
The author busily strikes the right tone with a mixture of
informal observation, speculation and historical analysis.
The book’s profundity is both masked and elevated by
its charm. There is more happening than may be readily apprehended,
specifically because the ideas and the writing are a lot of
fun.
Marijuana is best known for its intoxicating properties,
despite its other practical uses. In the book's third chapter,
Pollan makes an exuberant inquiry into the nature and experience
of intoxication. The success of cannabis depends on how greatly
it can gratify the human desire for intoxication while facing
the prevention of its use. The plant’s prohibition and
popularity make a remarkable story. The offshoot topics of
intoxication – coping, brain chemistry, fulfillment,
spirituality, consciousness – are explored and captured
in a strikingly original way.
Finally, Pollan uses the humble potato—and the development
of the genetically modified Bt potato—as an example
of our desire for control. To kill the Colorado potato beetle
a natural occurring pesticide is engineered into the genes
of Monsanto’s NewLeaf potatoes. GMOs are controversial:
they provide a solution to hunger, along with the threat of
other uncalculated effects. The problems at the source of
this technology - such as farmer’s rights, monoculture,
and culture (the demand for perfect, unblemished French fries
has consequences!) - are investigated, and rightly so. Socially,
these are important issues, and the answers are often confusing
and unsettling. “In fact, the Food and Drug Administration
doesn’t even officially consider the NewLeaf as food”.
The NewLeaf is actually considered a pesticide and is under
the jurisdiction of the EPA. Since learning this, the “Support
Organic Farmers” bumper stickers I see around town appear
that much more attractive.
Adam Grybowski is a former farmworker and a lover of
good books.
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