In contrast to anthropocentric readings of the Georgics, chapter 3 argues that Vergil is interested in farming as a way of considering the entangled lives of humans and nonhumans. The chapter contextualizes Vergil’s ecological thinking – highlighting influences from ancient philosophy, ethnography, Hesiod, and Roman agricultural treatises – and differentiates this reading from interpretations that shoehorn the relations of humans and nonhumans into a nature–culture binary. The chapter examines how the poem discloses agriculture as a practice of managing ecological relations. The second half of the chapter then queries the status of the human within its ecologies. While much of the poem denies human exceptionality, it does recognize ways in which humans stand out from the rest of the world, above all in their unparalleled ability to transform their environments – epitomized by the world-altering activities of Rome and Caesar. Ultimately, the chapter connects the peculiar status of the human to the didactic aims of the poem. By relaying and explaining the signa of the world, the Georgics offers the fantasy of an expertise that can better embed humans in their environments.

The introduction calls for a mutually enriching dialogue between ancient texts and environmental literary criticism, contextualizing the book in relation to ecocriticism and classical scholarship. It also establishes the key terms of the book’s approach – place, environment, and ecology – and distinguishes these from the unreflective use of the concept of nature. Finally, the introduction sketches the contextual background for Vergil’s and Horace’s environmental interests, noting a range of ancient traditions and discourses that took the nonhuman world seriously as a site of interest and inquiry. These include literary forebears like Sappho, Hesiod, Theocritus, and Lucretius; cultural traditions such as the Roman fascination with land surveying and agricultural treatises; political contexts like the expansion and consolidation of a quasi-global Roman empire; philosophical traditions from the Presocratics to Stoicism and Epicureanism; and religious traditions. Reading Horace and Vergil as environmental poets does not mean projecting modern sensibilities onto ancient texts but rather seeing how these authors pursue their own, different interests in place, ecology, and the environment.

This chapter elaborates a contextualized account of Horace’s interests in nature and the nonhuman. It traces the connections in his lyric poetry between the nonhuman environment and various concepts of nature. Drawing on long-standing poetic traditions, as well as developments in Hellenistic philosophy, Horace forges a poetry in which distilled perceptions of the nonhuman world undergird insights into ethical concepts of nature by which humans should live their lives. The chapter finds in this poetics a complex form of nature poetry that usefully complicates that concept within the history of the lyric. In order to write this poetry, Horace authenticates his vatic status through claims about his own special relationship with the nonhuman environment and the gods. Horace’s special connection to the divine allows him to enjoy a privileged relationship with his nonhuman surroundings. And it is because of this status that he can command us with urgency and authority to attend to our environments. Horace represents himself as a supernatural poet of nature, whose literary achievement transcends nature even as it teaches about nature’s limits.

This chapter argues that Hegel’s aim in his philosophy of nature is not to compete with natural science but to show that there is reason in nature – reason that science cannot see but that works through the causal processes discovered by science. It considers first the transition from Hegel’s logic to his philosophy of nature and argues that the latter continues the project of the former, starting with reason, or the “absolute idea”, as nature, as sheer externality. It then argues that Hegel derives nature’s categories logically – a priori – from the idea-as-externality, and subsequently matches them with empirical phenomena (rather than constructing categories to fit the latter). It provides an abridged account of Hegel’s physics in order to show how the categories of physical (as opposed to mechanical or organic) nature are derived from one another and how they are embodied in physical phenomena, such as sound, heat, and magnetism. It then concludes by arguing that, contrary to appearances, Hegel’s conception of light complements, and is not simply at odds with, that presented by quantum physics.

Serving as an introduction to the collection, this chapter underscores the significance of Hegel’s philosophy of nature within his comprehensive philosophical system and its relevance to contemporary philosophical engagement with empirical sciences. It explores the reception history of Hegel’s Philosophy of Nature, discussing several efforts to revitalize it over the last century and highlighting significant instances of its positive reception despite prevailing skepticism. Tracing the theoretical roots of Hegel’s philosophical interest in the natural world, from post-Kantian thought and the Romantic science movement, the chapter highlights Hegel’s engagement with figures such as Goethe and Schiller, which shaped his organicist views of nature. It examines Hegel’s evolving approach to nature, tracing the emergence of his own natural philosophy and its subsequent refinement in the Dissertatio, the Jena System Drafts, the Phenomenology, and the Encyclopaedia, all of which constitute the important stages of its development. Through successive revisions in the Encyclopaedia, Hegel incorporated advancements in scientific understanding, emphasizing the interplay between empirical observation and philosophical inquiry. In its final section, this chapter outlines the objectives and structure of the volume, emphasizing the revitalization of Hegel’s philosophy of nature beyond its historical context. It argues that Hegel’s approach provides insights into the intricate interplay between humanity and nature, recognizing its depth beyond mere physical needs. Therefore, reassessing his concepts from a modern perspective could generate new viewpoints on the relationship between nature and human culture.

Imperial gardens in ancient Rome and China were as much a physical arrangement of place as they were discursive realms, evoking imagination and invective alike. Starting from semantic observations on ancient Latin and Chinese terminologies, Wentian Fu explores the divergent contexts and concepts of imperial gardens in each culture. The first section traces the respective origins: while inextricably intertwined with ideas of visibility, citizenship, and republican traditions in Rome, the chapter argues for a conspicuous absence of those vectors in China prior to Western Han traditions. The analysis of odes from the Book of Songs reveals, on the contrary, close connections with the power-invested charge of palatial structures. In the second section, the author showcases how Roman aristocratic gardens evolved over time from aristocratic domains into imperial properties, dynamically growing in size and scope. The gardens in Nero’s Golden House, which are given exemplary consideration, both resembled and reversed the order of human spheres and nature. In doing so, they paralleled Shanglin Park and the Jianzhang Palace outside of Chang’an: the chapter explains how those sites were critical to the emperor’s pursuit of immortality. In the concluding section, Fu fully capitalizes on his findings, immersing the argument in the ambiguities of imperial gardens both as seductive spaces of transgression, indulgence, and debauchery, and as role model instantiations of good governance.

Riffing on the narcissism of male grooming, Devin Garofalo discusses the Romantic impulse to “manscape” – that is, to “read… a culturally specific conception of the human into the landscape such that it is invisibilized as the world’s structuring principle.” This culturally specific conception of the human, she clarifies, building on the pathbreaking work of Sylvia Wynter, is that of man as a bourgeois colonialist, a tamer, and a conqueror. He is Hannibal and Napoleon and the Wordsworthian poet all in one. The Romantic nature poem that is the hallmark of early nineteenth–century poetry, then, recruits the ecological imagination as it consolidates and eradicates all threats to whiteness.

One of the primary ways we encounter animals is as a food source. The dominant system of animal agriculture is “factory farming,” which is designed to produce the greatest amount of meat at the lowest possible cost. Factory farming is grossly inefficient from an ecological point of view, imposes enormous suffering on animals, and damages both humans and the environment. “Conscientious omnivores” reject factory farming but defend painlessly killing animals for food. Some defend hunting because they think it promotes other important values as well. These arguments are rejected by vegetarians and vegans, but they remind us that concerns about animals exist against the background of other values, including those that relate to the broader value of nature.

The words ‘nature’ and ‘environment’ have different senses and referents. The idea of the environment is keyed to what surrounds us, and we can speak of natural and built environments as well as others. This book is concerned with ethical questions about the environment. Many of these concern problems that occur at different scales and cause harms of various types. Environmental problems can be viewed from technological, economic, religious, and aesthetic perspectives, among others. No single perspective provides the sole correct or exhaustive way of viewing environmental problems. There is an ethical dimension to most environmental problems and that is the focus of this book.

Since the early nineteenth century, critics have noted John Clare’s unusually attentive eye for animals. From his earliest published pieces to the final poems transcribed from manuscripts in Northampton Asylum, Clare’s poetry is packed with animal life. This piece closely reads two sonnets from the middle of his career to investigate the breadth and complexity of his engagement with multiple non-human modes of being. It then turns to a representative range of other examples from his work and touches briefly upon critical analogies drawn between the poet and the non-human creatures about which he writes. The piece focuses repeatedly on the variety in Clare’s representations of animals and the consequent difficulty of drawing singular critical conclusions from them. In the process, it explores tensions in Clare’s poetry between themes of interconnection and alienation, freedom and confinement, profusion and scarcity, resilience and fragility, and exposure and agency.

This chapter discusses psychic contemplation as our participation in the contemplation of the World Soul, who creates the sensible world and time. As a result, we see the world as becoming alive and we transcend time by finding in ourselves the peace and rest of Nature, the lower power of the World Soul. The main faculty in ourselves which participates in Nature is imagination (and memory), although Nature herself doesn’t entertain perception, imagination, or memory. When we ascend to this level, we begin to live in the present, mindfully awake to our sensible experience, but also having a sense that we are something different from it. Sensible experience no longer deceives us because we see the sensible world in and through its archetypes, which are the logoi in Nature. Like a geometer who sees the intelligible structure of the square in squared sensible shapes, we intuitively see the essence of things (“what it is”) revealed to us through their qualities (“what it is like”).

The liturgical forms depicted in William Wordsworth’s Excursion (1814) provide the foundational instance of the nineteenth-century resistance to excarnation and the natural/supernatural binary. Rather than naturalizing otherworldly Christian doctrines – as seminal readings of Romanticism suppose – The Excursion’s rituals disclose how material reality already participates in the divine. This participatory vision challenges voluntarist pictures of God as a large, powerful being who exercises his arbitrary will over creation – a picture of God often unwittingly adopted by modern readers. Divine participation, moreover, challenges typical readings of Wordsworth’s lyrical inwardness. For, liturgy not only draws the poem’s characters out of themselves, it also sacralizes nature. Nature’s sacredness in turn opposes the desecrating rituals – or anti-liturgies – of industrialization. Via liturgy, then, Wordsworth comments on material conditions and remains historically engaged. The Victorians will repeatedly echo this use of liturgy to sacralize material reality and to resist any forces that would violate that sacrality.

This chapter addresses the repeated appearances of the sublime in Clare’s verse – including his deployment of the word itself – as well as the ambivalent relationship Clare’s understanding and practice of the sublime has to eighteenth-century and Romantic aesthetic discourse. This entails consideration of major theorizations of the sublime in the period prior to Clare and the reception in the English tradition of classical conceptions of literary sublimity or ‘grandeur’. The example of Milton is significant here, as is the genre of epic and Clare’s apparent aversion to it. A number of examples from Clare’s poetry and prose are considered in detail. The chapter concludes with a reading of Clare’s famous ‘I am’ poems, suggesting that they do in fact continue the tradition of Milton’s Satan, his resistance to oppression, and ambivalent insistence on the power of the mind.

This chapter discusses Clare’s nature poetry, in the contexts of the politics of land use, then and now. It reads the verse against issues including the introduction of capitalist forms of agriculture and their effects, including the dispossession and pauperization of agricultural labourers and the degradation of ecosystems. It also considers the politics of language and memory in Clare’s poetry, in relation to changes in the agricultural economy.

Clare had the good fortune to be born into a period of excitement and experimentation in poetry. Ideas about poetry were changing, as were practices of reading and writing. This chapter examines how Clare participated in these changes. He helped to elevate the meditative lyric to the pinnacle of literary prestige by showing how everyday experiences yield pleasure and insight; by using forms with roots in oral and folk cultures, including popular song; and by modelling his poems on the music of nature and the structure of bird nests. He took part in contemporary experiments with form, language, and voice. His poems draw on the philosophical atmosphere of the Romantic age by offering readers opportunities carefully to observe Clare’s world and, by doing so, to come to know it.

Urban nature holds great potential to address the web of challenges that cities are facing and support transitions to a more sustainable future. Cities are working with nature in a diversity of ways, such as by using blue and green infrastructure. Blue infrastructure includes, for example, lakes, ponds, drains, and wetlands. These features can regulate storm-water flows, reduce pressure on the urban drainage system, and create sponge cities that lower flooding risks while reducing heat island effects, enhancing biodiversity, and providing recreational opportunities. Green infrastructure can include, for example, urban forests, green roofs and walls, multi-functional parks, and river embankments. These areas can improve air quality and energy efficiency, reduce heat island effects, and contribute to human health and well-being, amongst other benefits. Furthermore, urban gardens can increase access to food and employment while enhancing physical and mental health and social integration.

This chapter begins by scrutinizing The Dharma Bums through the lens of the Romantic/Transcendentalist models that inspired the novel’s re-enchantment of nonhuman material creation. A second part turns to Kerouac’s haiku and The Scripture of the Golden Eternity to show how the concept of Buddhist “Emptiness” considerably enriches his Romantic/Transcendentalist sense of “field-being.” This section argues that the embeddedness of the human mind in the nonhuman combined with a serene acceptance of the latter’s elusiveness actually constitutes one of Kerouac’s important, if paradoxical, contributions to an understanding of the web of environmental continuities. By contrast, the third part moves from Kerouac’s ecospiritual holism to his deep-seated ecophobia: as found in “Desolation Journal,” Desolation Angels, and “Desolation Blues.” A fourth anddiscusses how, despite his environmental angst, Kerouac nevertheless experiments considerably at the level of ecopoetics, probing into a wildness of form that compensates, on the one hand, for the fear that untamed nature instills in his fiction and poetry, and on the other, for the limited presence of any wilderness in his city-inspired texts.

This chapter explores ways of thinking about ecology through the medium of composition, and how composing relates to the environments around us. It offers a methodological framework for composition that puts listening at the heart of a composer’s engagement with musical material and meaning making. Alongside the author’s examples there are a number of exercises and provocations to help developing one’s own approaches to composition.