Micro-Landscapes of the Anthropocene

Humanity, Nature, and Humanature in The Willows by Algernon Blackwood

The voyage along the Danube undertaken by the protagonist in Algernon Blackwood’s “The Willows” can be seen as taking place along the demarcation between ‘human’ and ‘nature’. I contend that the source of the terror within the horror-tale, both for the protagonist and the reader, emerges from a blurring of the distinction between ‘human’ and ‘nature’ along this aforementioned demarcation.

That the natural may cross human-imposed boundaries is foreshadowed when the protagonist describes how the Danube itself—the line of demarcation—‘awakens’ so as to become both natural and human. The protagonist describes the Danube as, “developing violent desires as it became conscious of its deep soul […] like some huge fluid being […] holding our little craft on its mighty shoulders […] till at length we had come inevitably to regard it as a Great Personage” (Blackwood ch. 1). This reconciliation of what is usually considered an opposition (human/natural) merges the ‘human’ with ‘nature’ so as to result in humanature

Blackwood notably invokes humanature when the protagonist and his voyage-partner first camp on the edge of the Danube. During the evening, the protagonist sees, “shapes of some indeterminate sort among the willows” (Blackwood ch. 2). The protagonist then identifies the shapes as something different to humanity but is unable to describe the source of the difference (beyond a largeness), thereby implying that identification of humanity emerges not from careful consideration of all elements of a figure but from the vagueness of feeling: “I came to examine them more calmly [and] something in their appearance proclaimed them to be not human” (ch. 2). Soon after, the shapes begin to blur into the willows—and between themselves—further unveiling humanature to the protagonist who describes them as, “interlaced one with another, making a great column, […] their limbs and huge bodies melting in and out of each other” (ch. 2). As the shapes continue to interlace, they are described as, “forming this serpentine line that bent and swayed […] with the contortions of the wind-tossed trees. They were nude, fluid shapes, […] within the leaves almost” (ch. 2). This passage is significant as the ‘bodies’ are described in ways which liken them to animals, plants, and humans within quick succession; specifically, the bodies are described as serpentine, as nude (with nakedness being the opposite of clothedness and thus a human descriptor), and as being literally within the willows.

The fluidity of humanature destabilises the protagonist such that he, “searched everywhere for a proof of reality, when all the while I understood quite well that the standard of reality had changed” (ch. 2). Thus, the boundary between humanity and nature is presented as a reality which is ‘understood’ despite the absence of unequivocal proof of difference. Further, it implies that to gaze upon such demarcation does not lead to one seeing it more clearly but to one seeing how unclear it is: “for the longer I looked the more certain I became that these figures were real and living, though perhaps not according to the standards that the camera and the biologist would insist upon” (ch. 2).

Through spying the bodies in the willows, the protagonist observes humanature directly and is thereby forced to reckon with a repositioning of his own understanding of human-natural boundaries; namely, that they are imposed by humanity rather than naturally emergent. As the protagonist reckons with this new perspective, he describes the moment thus, “our intrusion had stirred the powers of the place into activity. It was we who were the cause of the disturbance” (ch. 2). In light of such reckoning, the protagonist attempts to retreat back into his previous understanding of humanature:

“[M]y reason at last began to assert itself. It must be a subjective experience, I argued—none the less real for that, but still subjective. The moonlight and the branches combined to work out these pictures upon the mirror of my imagination, and for some reason I projected them outwards and made them appear objective.” 
                                                                                                                                           (ch. 2)

Here, the protagonist invokes the concepts of subjectivity/objectivity in order to retain a hold on his previously held conceptions. The genius of the obfuscation—or perhaps foolishness—lies in the fact that the protagonist can only categorise experiences as either subjective or objective through his solitary, and therefore subjective, perspective. Thus, any identification of subjectivity/objectivity the protagonist undertakes is an inherently subjective act and can therefore only result in the creation of further subjectivities. Consequently, the very concept/s of human-natural subjectivity/objectivity are shown as fallacious subjective categories whose purpose is to reassure humans destabilised by a reckoning with humanature

Once the bodies in the willows have retreated away from the protagonist, he describes how “a fear came down upon me with a cold rush (ch 2.). In the face of this fear, the protagonist retreats into a human-made confinement which physically separates the natural from the human: a tent. As the passage states, “realizing how helpless I was to achieve anything really effective, I crept back silently into the tent and […] shut out the sight of the willows in the moonlight, […] burying my head as deeply as possible beneath the blankets to deaden the sound of the terrifying wind.” (ch. 2) Thus, we find the source of the protagonist’s fear: his inability to achieve an effective containment of the natural within human-made boundaries of definition. 

Any comfort the protagonist may find by retreating into the confines of humanity is temporary. As he continues down the Danube, humanature returns with a sighting of a corpse ‘marked’ with a large pit in its torso, identical to natural pits seen along the banks of the Danube (ch. 5). “The Willows” then closes with an image of humanature wherein the “Grand Persona” (ch 1) of the Danube holds nature and humanity within a single place: “the current had done its work, and the body had been swept away into mid-stream and was already beyond our reach and almost out of sight, turning over and over on the waves like an otter” (ch. 5).

Toby Francis [z5342546]

Works Cited
Blackwood, Algernon. The Willows. Project Gutenberg, 4 Mar. 2004, www.gutenberg.org/files/11438/11438-h/11438-h.htm. Accessed 18 Oct. 2022.
 

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