Woolfian Boundaries - Clemson University

Woolfian Boundaries - Clemson University Woolfian Boundaries - Clemson University

23.12.2012 Views

94 WOOLFIAN BOUNDARIES of pesticides and her support for the extermination of house sparrows. Clark notes that Ormerod “played a pivotal role in the promotion of the large-scale use of Paris green,” a copper acetoarsenite compound, as an insecticide (446). Th ere was limited understanding of the dangers of arsenite compounds in the late nineteenth century. Medical doctors and agricultural scientists were aware of arsenic’s acute toxicity in large quantities but were less alert to its chronic toxicity when encountered in small amounts over a long period (Clark 446). Th e compound was widely used as a pigment in green paints (hence its name) and was also used medicinally in preparations such as Fowler’s solution. As a result, there was little public objection to the adoption of Paris Green as a pesticide, and Ormerod herself proudly declared that she wished her tombstone to read, “SHE INTRODUCED PARIS GREEN TO ENGLAND” (Wallace 206-7). Clark cites Woolf’s biographical sketch, “Miss Ormerod” (published in the Dial in December 1924 and later incorporated into “Lives of the Obscure” in the American edition of Th e Common Reader), in support of his condemnation of Ormerod and her science. He takes Woolf’s description of Ormerod as a “pioneer of purity even more than of Paris Green” as confi rmation of his contention that Ormerod’s success in the masculine fi eld of applied entomology was made possible only by the suppression of her sexuality (E4 136, cited in Clark 431). However, Clark’s deployment of Woolf as a guarantor of his ecofeminist argument demands examination. Much of Woolf’s writing does, without question, support ecocritical interpretation, but Woolf’s representation of economic entomology in “Miss Ormerod” complicates this view. I would argue that, unlike that of Clark, Woolf’s portrayal of Ormerod and her science is essentially approving. To what extent, then, did the nature of Ormerod’s science fi gure into Woolf’s evaluation of her subject? Did Woolf champion Ormerod simply because she was a woman who achieved success in a male-dominated fi eld, regardless of the focus of her research, or was the nature of Ormerod’s science in some way responsible for Woolf’s interest in and approval of Ormerod? If the latter, what are the implications of this approval to an understanding of Woolf’s views of science and nature? I will argue that Woolf championed Ormerod because Woolf was not primarily concerned with the environmental eff ects of Ormerod’s policies but instead viewed Ormerod and her science in relation to the earlier nineteenth-century tradition of taxonomic natural history and welcomed the overthrow of this quintessentially Victorian scientifi c tradition by more modern disciplines such as economic entomology. In his critique of Ormerod, Clark describes economic entomology as part of “the new empirical science, bent upon the dissection of nature’s anatomy” (451). In the early twentieth century, this new science was seen as possessing a revolutionary potential. Writers such as H. G. Wells and Marie Carmichael presented the new biology of the laboratory alongside Fabian socialism, feminist activism, and free love as a possible means of social amelioration. Woolf was also susceptible to such optimism. With regards to the study of nature, Woolf appears to have viewed only the established tradition of taxonomic natural history as irredeemably patriarchal. She saw modern sciences, economic entomology included, as potentially transformative, having the capacity to overthrow the dogmatism of not only the old scientifi c order but also established social conventions and hierarchies. As Clark correctly notes, Ormerod was not an overt feminist. She was publicly dismissive of the women’s movement, responding to Lydia Becker’s praise that she was “proof

Pests And Pesticides of how much a woman could do without the help of a man” with a declaration of her gratitude to the men who had furthered her career (Clark 435). Woolf likewise observes that Ormerod was conservative in many of her social and political views: she depicts Ormerod toasting the Queen’s health, assembling her servants for prayer, lamenting the prospect of Home Rule, and preserving her father’s “pigtail…in a box” (E4 139). Woolf suggests, however, that where her scientifi c training came into play, Ormerod was iconoclastic, that she was encouraged by her science to overturn established conventions, whether these took the form of the taxonomic tradition of natural history or restrictive social and gender norms. Woolf presents Ormerod as, almost against her will and certainly against the conditions of her upbringing, challenging received values by means of her science. In the most general sense, Woolf suggests that, over the course of Ormerod’s life, her science gradually emboldened her to challenge masculine authority. As Woolf tells it, Ormerod’s fi rst scientifi c observation, made as a small child while watching a tumbler full of water grubs, sends her running to her father, fi lled with “eagerness to impart her observations” (E4 133); her father dismisses her report that the grubs have eaten one of their companions as “Nonsense” and, on this occasion, she does not protest, accepting that “little girls are not allowed to contradict their fathers” (E4 133). During her apprenticeship as a taxonomic entomologist, she continues to appeal to male authority fi gures, sending a captured specimen to an Oxford professor for classifi cation (E4 134). Even once she feels herself a competent judge, she initially conceals her own authority behind that of a man: Woolf causes her to remark that “Dr Ritzema Bos is a great stand-by. For they won’t take a woman’s word” (E4 136). Gradually, however, Ormerod gains the confi dence to challenge even her former mentor, off ering the pronouncement, “these, though Ritzema Bos is positive to the contrary, are the generative organs of the male. I’ve proved it” (E4: 136). By the end of her career, Woolf suggests, Ormerod has achieved public recognition as an expert, as is demonstrated by her dictated letter to Messrs. Langridge: “Gentlemen, I have examined your sample and fi nd…” (E4 138). From being a seeker after the opinions of others, Ormerod has become an authority herself. Woolf was justifi ed in regarding taxonomic natural history as a conservative infl uence. As Londa Schiebinger has demonstrated in Nature’s Body, taxonomy in the Linnaean tradition was socially conservative, importing human gender conventions such as male priority and the domestic, nurturing role of the female wholesale into the classifi cation of nature and thus reinforcing the existing social order by permitting it to appear “natural.” Taxonomic natural history was also religiously orthodox. Linnaeus regarded taxonomy as a continuation of Adam’s naming of the beasts in the garden and the practice received further religious sanction from the philosophy of natural theology which argued that the variety and complexity of natural forms off ered proof of the power and wisdom of their creator and that the study of nature was thus a means of reverencing God. Th is doctrine continued to serve as the primary justifi cation for the study of nature for much of the nineteenth century, thanks in part to its reiteration in William Paley’s Natural Th eology. As a result, for much of the Victorian period, the study of nature, particularly as a pastime for women, children, and the working classes, was recommended as much on moral grounds as on educational ones, the contemplation of God’s creation being regarded as a spiritually edifying activity leading the attention “from the works of Nature up to the God of Nature,” to quote F. O. Morris (History iv). 95

Pests And Pesticides<br />

of how much a woman could do without the help of a man” with a declaration of her gratitude<br />

to the men who had furthered her career (Clark 435). Woolf likewise observes that<br />

Ormerod was conservative in many of her social and political views: she depicts Ormerod<br />

toasting the Queen’s health, assembling her servants for prayer, lamenting the prospect<br />

of Home Rule, and preserving her father’s “pigtail…in a box” (E4 139). Woolf suggests,<br />

however, that where her scientifi c training came into play, Ormerod was iconoclastic, that<br />

she was encouraged by her science to overturn established conventions, whether these<br />

took the form of the taxonomic tradition of natural history or restrictive social and gender<br />

norms. Woolf presents Ormerod as, almost against her will and certainly against the conditions<br />

of her upbringing, challenging received values by means of her science.<br />

In the most general sense, Woolf suggests that, over the course of Ormerod’s life,<br />

her science gradually emboldened her to challenge masculine authority. As Woolf tells it,<br />

Ormerod’s fi rst scientifi c observation, made as a small child while watching a tumbler full<br />

of water grubs, sends her running to her father, fi lled with “eagerness to impart her observations”<br />

(E4 133); her father dismisses her report that the grubs have eaten one of their<br />

companions as “Nonsense” and, on this occasion, she does not protest, accepting that<br />

“little girls are not allowed to contradict their fathers” (E4 133). During her apprenticeship<br />

as a taxonomic entomologist, she continues to appeal to male authority fi gures, sending<br />

a captured specimen to an Oxford professor for classifi cation (E4 134). Even once she<br />

feels herself a competent judge, she initially conceals her own authority behind that of a<br />

man: Woolf causes her to remark that “Dr Ritzema Bos is a great stand-by. For they won’t<br />

take a woman’s word” (E4 136). Gradually, however, Ormerod gains the confi dence to<br />

challenge even her former mentor, off ering the pronouncement, “these, though Ritzema<br />

Bos is positive to the contrary, are the generative organs of the male. I’ve proved it” (E4:<br />

136). By the end of her career, Woolf suggests, Ormerod has achieved public recognition<br />

as an expert, as is demonstrated by her dictated letter to Messrs. Langridge: “Gentlemen, I<br />

have examined your sample and fi nd…” (E4 138). From being a seeker after the opinions<br />

of others, Ormerod has become an authority herself.<br />

Woolf was justifi ed in regarding taxonomic natural history as a conservative infl uence.<br />

As Londa Schiebinger has demonstrated in Nature’s Body, taxonomy in the Linnaean<br />

tradition was socially conservative, importing human gender conventions such as male<br />

priority and the domestic, nurturing role of the female wholesale into the classifi cation of<br />

nature and thus reinforcing the existing social order by permitting it to appear “natural.”<br />

Taxonomic natural history was also religiously orthodox. Linnaeus regarded taxonomy<br />

as a continuation of Adam’s naming of the beasts in the garden and the practice received<br />

further religious sanction from the philosophy of natural theology which argued that the<br />

variety and complexity of natural forms off ered proof of the power and wisdom of their<br />

creator and that the study of nature was thus a means of reverencing God. Th is doctrine<br />

continued to serve as the primary justifi cation for the study of nature for much of the<br />

nineteenth century, thanks in part to its reiteration in William Paley’s Natural Th eology. As<br />

a result, for much of the Victorian period, the study of nature, particularly as a pastime for<br />

women, children, and the working classes, was recommended as much on moral grounds<br />

as on educational ones, the contemplation of God’s creation being regarded as a spiritually<br />

edifying activity leading the attention “from the works of Nature up to the God of<br />

Nature,” to quote F. O. Morris (History iv).<br />

95

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