“The Philanthropist and the Jelly-fish” is about a philanthropist who is not at peace with the world around him*. He sees multiple jellyfish dying on a beach, and he decides to save just one jellyfish (he also acknowledges how his actions will not make a noticeable difference.) The jellyfish, however, has other plans. She is aware of her demise but does not struggle against it. She wisely tells the philanthropist that although she does not have a brain, she understands the natural world and does not feel sad that she is dying. She then warns the philanthropist that she knows humans are not perfect creatures and do not acknowledge their ultimate demise. Instead, humans struggle against the cycle of evolution and become depressed about things that are out of their control.
Even though a jellyfish is a primitive creature (there have been fossils of ancient jellyfish found) it still seems to have a better grasp on evolution than humans do. The philanthropist represents aesthetic values, and the jellyfish represents science. While the philanthropist loves humanity, he is narrow-minded and only focuses on the welfare of humanity and does not take science into account. His promotion of welfare extends to the jellyfish that is lying on the sand; she has clearly not adapted to stay in the water. The jellyfish he attempts to save has a recessive trait that is meant to leave the species, yet the philanthropist is trying to save it. He does not understand that he is essentially devolving the species, but the jellyfish does. She is not upset about dying in the sand. In fact, she does not feel emotion (it’s kind of hard to do that when one doesn’t have a brain. Ask the Tin Man.) The jellyfish does not have a brain, yet she understands science better than the philanthropist does. The philanthropist does have a brain, but he is wrapped up in the aesthetics of the world, which makes him less equipped to understand science.
The only thing that falls into the category of aesthetic and that Darwin appears to continue to enjoy is the novel. Apparently since novels are not a higher form of art, they are closer to human nature and do not completely steer one away from the realm of science. Perhaps this is due to the fact that novels generally reflect current trends and ideas during the time it is written. Could it also be said that novels adapt to human culture as human culture adapts to the natural world? Science, without a doubt, dominated the late Victorian scene. With the birth of evolution came the birth of science fiction, and many of the famous works of the era revolved around the idea of the evolution (and inevitable devolution or demise) of man. Evidently, fine art is headed down the same path.
*I merely designated a pronoun to the philanthropist. It should be noted that the philanthropist has no gender, but the jellyfish does. Perhaps this is because the author is a woman.
[Also, here is a picture of a jellyfish fossil:
found at: http://www.networlddirectory.com]
I knew this was yours before I looked at the name. I don't know what that says about you.
ReplyDeleteGreat opener! It certainly caught my attention, and it sets at least one of the problems from Darwin’s writings to view—viz. how should “art” be classified, absorbed, and then transmitted? And I love this statement, about why Darwin might rank novels higher than poetry: “Perhaps this is due to the fact that novels generally reflect current trends and ideas during the time it is written.” While poetry can certainly be argued to reflect its contemporary context, what you have touched on here is the very reason why novels were largely disparaged until the advent of Modernism: they exposed too much and too closely, in too formidable of a sphere of publication, the private lives (thoughts, desires, manias, etc.) of, for example, Victorian personae. As we’ve discussed in such novels as _Water-babies_, _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_, and _The Time Machine_, fiction allowed for a mirror to be held in front of the reader as if to suggest a safe distance yet nevertheless inescapable similitude between text and reader. What, then, do you draw as a conclusion? I wondered if perhaps some reorganization of this post would have helped, b/c I read the idea of poetry as a recessive trait being something that might emerge from an analysis of the statement I quoted above. This is a highly provocative idea, but it never seemed to be fully explored in your post. In the end, do you agree or disagree w/ Darwin?
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