"Brilliantly conceived....[A] tour de force in historical writing."―Ian Kershaw Majestic and lyrically written, The Conquest of Nature traces the rise of Germany through the development of water and landscape. David Blackbourn begins his morality tale in the mid-1700s, with the epic story of Frederick the Great, who attempted―by importing the great scientific minds of the West and by harnessing the power of his army―to transform the uninhabitable marshlands of his scattered kingdom into a modern state. Chronicling the great engineering projects that reshaped the mighty Rhine, the emergence of an ambitious German navy, and the development of hydroelectric power to fuel Germany's convulsive industrial growth before World War I, Blackbourn goes on to show how Nazi racial policies rested on German ideas of mastery of the natural world. Filled with striking reproductions of paintings, maps, and photographs, this grand work of modern history links culture, politics, and the environment in an exploration of the perils faced by nations that attempt to conquer nature. 70 illustrations
There’s no better sign that historians have nothing to say than when they say a lot. Consider these snippets of thought from Blackbourn’s introduction: “A desire to show readers the contradictions of Germany’s passage to modernity gives this book its underlying rhythm, its point and counterpoint”; “The almost religious sense of a ‘fall’ in some writing about human relationships with the natural world is palpable”; “Readers can expect a book that takes them up to the heights, but also down to where the earth meets the water … They are different ways of saying that history occurs in space as well as time”; “Human beings are metaphorical creatures”. That futile casting about — in which all is hooked and nothing caught — betrays a desperation indicative of larger structural problems.
It’s not, though, that Blackbourn had bitten off more than he can chew; no, he chews this history up nice and good. He’s too talented an historian to do otherwise. It’s instead that he’s not quite come to grips with the fact that he’s written a popular history here, and thus no overarching thesis fits comfortably enough to extend beyond “well, a little bit of this and a little bit of that” or “you think it was this but it was really that,” both of which stand as fine thematic overviews for a survey, but do little work as a theoretical mechanism of causal power and explication. That grandiloquent reaching, then, that claim that “everywhere we look, German rivers, moors, and fens became markers for larger, more abstract things: conquest and loss, of course, the twin themes of the book, but many other qualities besides, both positive and negative — beauty and ugliness, abundance and scarcity, harmony and disharmony”, is the sign of a struggle to find a red thread, failing, and thus pointing to it all, for of course it’s true that understanding artificial hydrological manipulation shines a light on both Prussian power and postwar Vergangenheitsbewältigung, and nigh everything in between. It’s also true, however, for just about any theme you can track over the same period. Take your pick: architectural design? working-class diets? literary theory? Of course.
And all that effort, however, is more than understandable for someone like Blackbourn, though, because exactly what he’s trying in vain to do here, he has already successfully done elsewhere with MARPINGEN. Granted, that’s less a survey, but it is equally accessible and popularly positioned. Now for the caveat: to his mind, and to a large extent, Blackbourn is midwifing the birth of environmental history into the German historical mainstream. And, as such, he feels the need to justify its spotlight, which takes him into methodological sidestreams (pg 16: on the need to “restore the connection between the broad sweep of history and physical environment”) quite off that main stream. All the same, lightning doesn’t often strike twice.
In den letzten 250 Jahren hat man die Landschaft in Deutschland gravierend verändert. Kein Fluss, kein See, nahezu kein Wald und weitere Flächen ähneln dem Ursprung. Flüsse wurden begradigt, Dämme gebaut, Moore und Sümpfe, die das deutsche Landschaftsbild prägten, trocken gelegt. Die Natur wurde früher als Feind angesehen, die gezähmt werden musste. Die Folgen: Umweltverschmutzung, 9000 umgekippte Seen, saurer Regen, Überschwemmungen, Hochwasser und gebrochene Dämme. David Blackbourne nimmt uns mit auf eine historische Reise des damals existierenden Zeitgeistes und schildert sehr gut, wie sich die deutsche Landschaft verändert hat & warum 250 Jahre später wir mit Umweltschutz politisch vorgehen müssen.
An der Schnittstelle zwischen Kulturgeschichte und Naturgeschichte bietet dieses Buch einen Abriss über die verschiedenen Arten, in denen sich der Mensch die Deutsche Natur ab dem 18. Jahrhundert zu eigen gemacht hat. Die Kapitel haben weitgehend einen ähnlichen Aufbau, die Erzählung eines anfänglichen Fortschrittsglaubens und der Hybris werden die Probleme in der Umsetzung (etwa der Flussbegradigung) und die unvorhergesehen, teilweise dramatischen sozialen und ökologischen Folgen dieser „Natureroberung“ gegenübergestellt. Sehr differenziert bezüglich der Vor- und Nachteile, faszinierend erzählt mit einem reichhaltigen Fußnotenapparat. Besonders interessant war die umfassende Beleuchtung der widersprüchlichen Beziehung der Nationalsozialisten zur eigenen und zur fremden (polnischen) Landschaft und Natur sowie die Nacherzählung der Geburt der modernen Umweltbewegung. Absolute Empfehlung!
From the draining of marshes under Frederick the Great to create more arable land, to cuts made to reroute the Rhine, to the building of dams and dikes to control waterways and a German mindset to "conquer" nature, all the way to pollution a few decades ago to a modern eye to more ecologically sustainable policies, this book covers about 250 years of environmental history in Germany.
In "Die Eroberung der Natur" wirft der Harvard-Historiker und Deutschland-Experte David Blackbourn einen Blick auf die deutsche Umweltpolitik ab dem Jahr 1700. Nicht die gescheiterte Revolution von 1848 oder der Ausbruch des 1. Weltkriegs stehen hier also im Vordergrund, sondern die Trockenlegung von Mooren und Sümpfen, den Bau von Talsperren oder die Begradigung des Rheins. Doch durch den trockenen Schreibstil und dem hohe Detailgrad (allein das Talsperren-Kapitel umfasst 90 Seiten) geraten die 440 Seiten schnell zur schweren Kosten. Insgesamt ein eher mittelmäßiger Read für mich, aber wer ein großes Interesse für das Thema hat wird "Eroberung der Natur" wohlmöglich positiver bewerten.
I think I read this one a bit too quickly. But hey, it really is a textbook, just thick with information. That combined with the ababab structure (i.e. this man was a proponent of this natural engineering technique, which resulted in a higher frequency of this natural disaster) made this book feel a bit like reading the same thing over and over.
This is the second time that I've read “The Conquest of Nature.” Prof. Blackbourn does a very good job of showing how developing a mentality of converting “unusable land” to “farmland,” led to increased agricultural output. Also, how building dams led to the increased production of hydroelectric power. These are just two examples of how the actions of planners and engineers transformed the country and the mentality of its people. One could summarize this in the phrase, “what we do, we become.”
“The Conquest of Nature” has wide ranging implications for today. Anytime we attempt to transform our natural world, the results of the transformation are accompanied by the proverbial, “law of unintended consequences.” New growth, new solutions, or just trying to do something better, results in a host of new problems that makes society question the true value of the initial gain.
Although Prof. Blackbourn is a historian, this is a superb book that deals with the long-term analysis of ecology, ecosystems, and its inherent relations with political science and philosophy. The reader will come away from the story with the view of seeing present day Germany in the context of “landscape is destiny.”
This book is a superb summary of several of the major hydro-engineering projects undertaken in the last 250 years of cultural German history. David Blackbourn cushions this history of technology with a well balanced analysis - the extent to which the intended benefits were achieved, and the damage that can be caused by implementing technology before its effects are fully understood. He also describes how the social and political situations influenced the use of the technology, and how the results fed back into future thinking and behavior.
The author makes the relation of German waterways and geography to German history as interesting as humanly possible...3 stars for compelling thesis, but I was unfortunately still bored due to my social/intellectual historical focus. This was certainly another world for me!
I'm sure a grand degree of research has gone into this book. Its strengths lay in the poignant case studies Blackbourn picks out (the Eder valley, the Prippet Marshes, the Oderbruch) but sometimes he did not emphasize a through line through these examples and epochs. He's attempting to trace the development of environmental thinking in Germany on a state level (and local levels) and emphasizes certain key figures in each chapter, but sometimes the relationship between the maturing ideology (from the Holy Roman Empire to the Third Reich and beyond) reads more like "this x guy's idea echoes y guy's ideas" without a full case made for who inspired who. He mentions that this book attempts to complicate the simpified notion of environmental policy, showing the 'frictions' which animate this policy but this example is more pronounced in some chapters than others. The chapter on German Socialism is a bit heavy handed in its handling of these 'frictions'. I would've loved to learn more about all the official, bureaucratic mess during this period instead of the way in which the Third Reich's policies are explored in very blanket statements. There are some illuminating passages on the opportunities for resistance the Prippet Marshes presented- and the way in which ideologies of the 'wild west' inspired 'lebensraum'. I wanted that kind of detail throughout. It does a good job of showing the general maturation of Germany's environmental character but can dip into generalizations or into hyper-specifics. Sometimes I felt a sense of redundancy overcome certain sections of the book when the same idea was repeated for a 5th time in the chapter. But this does not discredit the massive ambition, scope and work that this book encapsulates. Blackbourn is at the top of him game, and his book is a memorable read. He is at the height of his powers when he is dealing with the sentimentalities of change, bureaucratic ad-hocism which operates the governmental machine and the way in which meaning is made in contingent but irrevocable ways.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A very strongly researched history of German interactions with landscape. Blackbourn writes clearly and pleasantly, making this an easier read that I imagined. I would say that at points the detail was simply too much, hence the four stars, and so reading just grew a little slow. I’d still recommend this for anyone wanting to know more about this area of German studies.
I found this book accessible and enjoyable, a fascinating look into German attitudes towards the environment, and the irony of the endless interactions between people and place.
What stuck with me most is just how arbitrary an area’s perceived “natural beauty” can be, when often (and especially in Europe) the landscape has been shaped by humans for hundreds if not thousands of years.
Taking a look into several different eras of German history, this book introduces endless threads to pull on, serving as a wonderful introduction to European conquest of the natural world. I would recommend it to any environmentally conscious history nerd.
Comprehensive and interesting. Author sometimes seems to want to make the reader feel the extent of his research, at the expense of his narrative. Also falls into some of the traps he critiques (including an exceptionally one-sided version of history featuring men as stand-ins for humans-- in 250 years of history and hundreds of character descriptions, I think he names maybe one or two women TOTAL). Overall very worth reading, especially for people interested in frontier history and ways nationalism may be expressed in a landscape.
An excellent investigation of how industry and society shaped and were shaped by bodies of water in modern Germany. Starts in the 1700s and goes to the twentieth century, with really interesting sections on Frederick the Great, the reshaping of the Rhine, and how Nazi racial and environmental policy intersected.
Very interesting book about history of water engineering. Even though it was set to Germany, some parts could be easily applied to other countries. For me, it was sometimes difficult to read - some descriptions were too long and tended to get boring. On the other hand other parts were very interesting and very new. I learned a lot.