What is Ecocriticism?

by Stephanie Sarver

The term "ecocriticism" is vague and perhaps misleading. I admit to using the term to identify a range of approaches to the study of literature that share a common concern with the relationship between humans and the non-human world. Nonetheless, I've wondered how our literary efforts relate to ecology. Generally, literary ecocriticism seems concerned with the ways that the relationship between humans and nature are reflected in literary texts. This concern, however, is better labeled an environmental approach to literature (or simply environmentalism) than ecocriticism. Popular culture often conflates ecology and environmentalism, but within the academy, ecology is a scientific discipline that studies the connections between organisms and their environment. On the other hand, environmentalism comprises a range of practices that promote the well-being of the earth. As literary scholars, our work may be informed by environmentalist concerns, but we ultimately study texts, not organisms. (I know that some will dispute this.) Although some might argue that our work assumes a quasi-ecological character when it reveals how writers make connections between organisms and environments, this work is better described as a form of environmentalism than the practice of ecology. As a scholar of literature, I am not comfortable co-opting the name of a discipline in attempting to describe broadly my work.

"Ecocriticism" has proven to be more jargon than a descriptive term. It describes neither a philosophy nor an activity; it is meaningful only to the exclusive audience whom I address here. If I utter the word "ecocriticism" to a room full of ecologists, they will wonder to what activity I am alluding. If, however, I call myself an environmentalist who studies literature, both academic and non-academic audiences generally will understand what values inform my work.

"Ecocriticism" is also an unfortunate term because it suggests a new kind of critical theory. The emerging body of work that might be labeled ecocritical is united not by a theory, but by a focus: the environment. This ecocritical work draws on a variety of theories, such as feminist, Marxist, post-structuralist, psychoanalytic and historicist. Using these different theories, the ecocritic considers how nature is reflected and perceived in literary texts. It seems, therefore, that these literary studies reflect not the science of ecology, but a broad-based environmentalist sensibility. Literary scholars who are environmentalists seem not to be creating a new critical theory; rather, they are drawing on existing theories to illuminate our understanding of how human interactions with nature are reflected in literature.

Finally, I am concerned about a move to establish an environmentalist camp among the critical elite of the academic literary community. It seems that some would like to establish ecocriticism as a rival to other critical movements. The rationale, as I understand it, is that if we can create a collective ecocritical presence, then the literary establishment (i.e., the MLA) will take notice. Such a move, while possessing a certain logic, may also backfire. In creating a vague and somewhat misleading name before we have any well-defined theory or methodology, we put the cart before the horse. We also create a handy term with which we can be stereotyped and, possibly, dismissed.

To acquire true influence within the larger literary community, literary environmentalism must reach into the spheres where we are, as yet, unheard. This will occur when, in addition to identifying how wild nature is perceived in literary texts, we introduce environmental matters into more main-stream literary discussions that center on such issues as gender, sexuality, politics, economics, ethnicity, and nationalism. (Some of this is already occurring.) Much progress has been made toward the goal of legitimizing the study of nature writing. We will earn a wider respect when our environmental readings expand to address not just the trees and rivers that inhabit the texts we study, but also the nature inherent in humans and in settings in which humans figure prominently: in our dooryards, cities, and farms. Our credibility and influence as literary environmentalists will not be earned by creating a new buzz-word. We will acquire broader recognition and respect when we can demonstrate that environmental issues are human issues, and that our reverence for nature--both textual and actual--is not, as some of our critics would argue, a convenient excuse to avoid the problems of the human world.

Stephanie Sarver, University of California, Davis