Whenever one thinks of nature writing, the image that one conjures up in their minds is that of the privileged white male environmentalist narrating his observations of a romanticised landscape, or, on the other hand, running into the wilderness where he can spend time reconnecting with his truer, more visceral and authentic, self. Whilst this voyeuristic conception of nature writing satiates our thirst for escapism from our everyday urban lives, we must reconcile ourselves with the idea that there is an underlying privilege to this formulaic narrative and a marginalisation of other diverse voices sharing a different experience of nature – if only to prevent the falling into irrelevance, and to ensure the endurance of nature writing as a genre.
Nature, as both a place and an idea, has become fraught with issues of privilege. Not everyone can access it, nor can they always afford to romanticise it. – Zoe Gilbert
The misconception that nature can only be found in the countryside or the ‘wilderness,’ away from urban nucleus, is one of the main issues that said privilege carries, as marginalised sectors of the wider population do not have the access to enter certain natural spaces or do not feel safe doing so. As Naomi Klein suggests, although there is no conclusive or accurate data, it is no secret that capitalist Western societies have abused natural areas, ‘wherein peasants and Indigenous people who venture into their traditional territories… [that are now being used for extractive activities] in order to harvest plants, wood, or fish are harassed or worse.’ This urban-nature division, thus, creates the divisory illusion between what is considered ‘social’ or ‘environmental,’ as if sustainable development, democracy and social rights were not indivisible. ‘As if people are – or more damaging still, should be – separate from nature.’
In a country such as the United States, whose status as an economic superpower is based on the slavery dynamics of an African American population tied to the land, Black authors are relating their connections to nature in a way far removed from romanticism. As poet and editor of the anthology Black Nature Camille T. Dungy describes, in their writing of the natural world, African Americans are having to navigate ‘the manner in which the natural world has been used to destroy, damage, or subjugate’ them – offering a whole other layer of environmental consciousness, instead of just relaying their musings on a landscape in a flourished style. Therefore, it is imperative that we shift these narratives from the margins of nature writing, and into the canon.
As we consider how to respond as writers to environmental disaster, disaster that asks us to reconsider old paradigms such as the division between humans and nature, we are limited if we do not make space for this history and these voices. For indigenous people and writers of color, these disasters and disruptions are not new – they are part of a wider history. – Catherine Buni
Sources:
Towards a Wider View of ‘Nature Writing’ (LA Review of Books)
Finding My Climate-Conscious Tribe: Black Nature Lovers and Writers (Lit Hub)
This Changes Everything – Naomi Klein (Book)
Nature writing is booming – but must a walk in the woods always be meaningful? (The Guardian)