Charles Darwin: The Power of Place [Englisch] [Taschenbuch]

Darwin, for someone of such stature socially and scientifically, was a rooted, private man. He rarely left his spacious, gated home at Down except to visit one of his few good friends or relatives. His public appearances were nearly as noted as the Pope's. In spite of this seeming exclusiveness, he maintained an immense and warm correspondence all over the world. Alfred Russell Wallace, for example, was one of his good friends, but almost entirely by means of letters. Moreover, he received a constant stream of visitors at Down, many of whom were hardly known to him, and some of whom barely spoke English.

However, these visits were rarely extended beyond a courteous lunch. Darwin would often plead weakness or illness (or let one of the womenfolk do it for him) in order to get away to his study and his studies after being dutifully social. Of course, if it was Huxley, or Lyell, or Hooker visiting, then Darwin had considerably more strength for conversation. These old friends formed the core of his scientific network, and, along with Asa Gray in America, were his representatives in the larger scientific world.

The story of Charles Darwin is the story of a homebody: he did most of his experiments with jury-rigged apparatus in his house, garden, or greenhouse, using his children as assistants, and begging and borrowing plant and animal material from his friends and correspondents all around the world, without himself going anywhere. It is the story of a man who loved his wife, and needed her, for he was always "poorly", and he was always busy. It is the story of a man who was warm and affectionate, and constantly a-tingle with some absorbing project in natural history. Yet it is the story of a supremely absorbed man, who was as totally selfish in his dedication to his obsessions as any artist, ruthlessly (but charmingly) using the people around him and around the world to further his investigations, and shield him from those social duties that soak up so much of the lives of most of us.

Janet Browne gently disapproves of Darwin's selfishness, which was consistent and on at least two occasions (when he refused to go to the funerals of old friends who had helped him tremendously) nearly unforgiveable. Yet she clearly liked the man, as did almost everyone who knew him (including some of his ideological opponents). He preserved himself for his work, it is true, but he still understood the obligations of a Victorian gentleman of means. He was active in the village life at Down, using his money and time to promote worthy causes of benefit to the poorer residents. He also had a soft spot for animals, and spent much energy opposing unthinking cruelty to beasts whenever he encountered it. He also was the prime mover behind getting a government pension for Alfred Russel Wallace, who had fallen on hard times, as well as many other quiet gifts to science, and to individuals.

On balance, Darwin was a tremendously appealing man, and his life, personal and scientific (which were totally intertwined, both domestically and socially) a model of Victorian striving. Prudent and successful in investing his money, an obsessive list-maker and careful household manager, and a famously hard worker in his science, he came by his success, as he felt, honestly. But to me the appeal of this book lies in its location in Darwin's domestic and social milieu. This also happened to be his scientific milieu, for most of his friends, and some of his relatives, were scientists whose interests overlapped with his own.

This book picks up the story in 1858, when Darwin got a letter from a man known to him only as a collector, Alfred Russel Wallace. He was stunned to see that his pet theory of speciation by natural selection had occurred to Wallace during his sojourn in the jungles of the East. The cat was out of the bag, so Darwin thought he might as well write down what he knew, including his researches during the previous twenty years into the topic. This book just grew and grew, and finally became "The Origin of Species"; the main narrative thread of Darwin's later life is, of course, the fate of this "child". After 1859 he was suddenly a household name, and a fit subject for political cartoons and pulpitical denunciations. Within a few years "Darwinism" was a noun in general use. He himself spent tremendous energy in surreptitious efforts to get his theory accepted, and did not scruple to let his friends, like Huxley, savage his enemies, like Owen.

Janet Browne gives this story its due. As always, her mastery of the material is complete, and she tells a complicated story gracefully. But more than this, she is attuned to the sociology of the situation. She understands how scientific ideas gain acceptance, as well as how the nascent industry of popular publishing contributed to the success of Darwin's ideas among the larger public. One of the recurring pleasures of this book is to enjoy her observations on the social issues that impinge on this life story.

Further, it is a measure of her almost novelistic skill that our attitude toward Darwin's life changes almost insensibly: though we may have come to his story because we were curious about an idea, we are sad to see it end because we have come to care about the man himself.

It is my hope that anybody interested in the historical background of evolutionary theory will read both of Browne's books. They are well worth it!

The pivotal point, of course, is Darwin's 1859 book, The Origin of Species. Browne recounts the "Wallace letter" which nearly toppled Darwin from the place of priority in developing the idea of natural selection. Darwin's friends and colleagues rallied to sustain him while maintaining fairness to both him and Wallace. The many years of study Darwin had given to the concept resulted in the volume that changed our view of life, but it remains an open question whether he would have published without the "thunderbolt from Ternate." Browne's view isn't narrow, however, as she places Origin within the broader schema of Victorian writing, whether fiction, social commentary, poetry or science.

Browne leads us through the years of turmoil following publication of Origin. Strangely, she notes, the chief objectors were fellow scientists, not the religious establishment. Even the British Association debate, often considered the pivot point for making the public aware of the book's meaning, brought out a churchman who had been prompted by one of Darwin's scientific peers. Although Darwin remained at Down throughout the ensuing years, he maintained constant control of those who spoke for him. He reached Continental readers quickly, although troubled by freely editing translators.

This account portrays Darwin's "place" by almost every definition of the term. Browne shows Darwin's status among his colleagues, depicts him as a teacher, a father, a member of his community, both locally and in the grander Victorian Era setting. Darwin was a man of his class, most of which endorsed thinking and speculation. Most importantly, she shows his stature as a human, at times fearful, courageous, withdrawing, helpful to his friends and scornful of his enemies. He counseled his children, or used them for help, as the moment demanded. He sought to protect his wife, but Browne makes clear Emma was under few illusions of the meaning of natural selection. Darwin was no hypocrite, but was long in reaching his final dismissal of deities. Whatever the enduring nature of his idea, the man, Browne asserts, still remained a mortal figure.

Beyond Origin, Browne relates Darwin's conflicting feelings leading to later works - Descent of Man, plant domestication, orchids, emotional expression and the obscure world of earthworms. Many of these publications would later prove fundamentally supportive of natural selection. All required immense amounts of study, communication and writing. He tended his own plants, studied earthworms at night and used the new technology of phototgraphy. The variation in topics and methods reflects once again Darwin's genius, but even more his strengths as a naturalist. Little escaped his scrutiny and he was able to impart his findings with flowing prose reaching a wide public. All these accomplishments were achieved in spite of frequent illnesses, none of which were successfully treated.

We owe much to Darwin, and Browne has discharged a significant portion of the debt with this book. The labour of many years, it's an elegant portrayal, worthy of the effort so evident in its making. Whatever your interests, sit down with this book and meet the man Browne has re-introduced to us. It will be a rewarding experience. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]