Kingdom of Ants: José Celestino Mutis and the Dawn of Natural History in the New World

by Edward O. Wilson, José M. Gómez Durán

One of the earliest New World naturalists, José Celestino Mutis began his professional life as a physician in Spain and ended it as a scientist and natural philosopher in modern-day Colombia. Drawing on new translations of Mutis's nearly forgotten writings, this fascinating story of scientific adventure in eighteenth-century South America retrieves Mutis's contributions from obscurity. In 1760, the 28-year-old Mutis―newly appointed as the personal physician of the Viceroy of the New Kingdom of Granada―embarked on a 48-year exploration of the natural world of northern South America. His thirst for knowledge led Mutis to study the region's flora, become a professor of mathematics, construct the first astronomical observatory in the Western Hemisphere, and amass one of the largest scientific libraries in the world. He translated Newton's writings and penned essays about Copernicus; lectured extensively on astronomy, geography, and meteorology; and eventually became a priest. But, as two-time Pulitzer Prize–winner Edward O. Wilson and Spanish natural history scholar José M. Gómez Durán reveal in this enjoyable and illustrative account, one of Mutis's most magnificent accomplishments involved ants. Acting at the urging of Carl Linnaeus―the father of taxonomy―shortly after he arrived in the New Kingdom of Granada, Mutis began studying the ants that swarmed everywhere. Though he lacked any entomological training, Mutis built his own classification for the species he found and named at a time when New World entomology was largely nonexistent. His unorthodox catalog of army ants, leafcutters, and other six-legged creatures found along the banks of the Magdalena provided a starting point for future study. Wilson and Durán weave a compelling, fast-paced story of ants on the march and the eighteenth-century scientist who followed them. A unique glance into the early world of science exploration, Kingdom of Ants is a delight to read and filled with intriguing information.

Genres: Science, Nonfiction, Nature, History, Biology, Natural History, Animals

120 pages, Hardcover

First published September 28, 2010

About the author

Edward Osborne Wilson, sometimes credited as E.O. Wilson, was an American biologist, researcher, theorist, and author. His biological specialty is myrmecology, a branch of entomology. A two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize for General Non-Fiction, Wilson is known for his career as a scientist, his advocacy for environmentalism, and his secular-humanist ideas pertaining to religious and ethical matters. He was the Pellegrino University Research Professor in Entomology for the Department of Organismic and Evolutionary Biology at Harvard University and a Fellow of the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry. He is a Humanist Laureate of the International Academy of Humanism.

Reviews

[Jonfaith · Rating 4 out of 5]

This monograph, more of an article padded with plates and illustrations, can serve as an introduction to both entomology and the work of Edward O. Wilson by researching the diaries of 18C Spanish naturalist José Celestino Mutis who visited what is now Columbia in the late 18C to classify plants and insects for a royal charter. His work as such (if it existed) is lost but his diaries remain --those of the several (close to seven) years he spent studying the environment. He had very few predecessors and no existing classification for local species. What ensues is fascinating and rather poetic. I was charmed by this book. I only wish there was more.

[Tracy Yao · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's just superb. The book can be split into two parts for the enjoyment of both the historian and naturalist.

Chapters 1-3 describe the life of José Celestino Mutis, his character, scientific (and theological) contributions, publications (or lack thereof), correspondence with Linnaeus, and 1761 and 1777 expeditions into the New Kingdom of Granada (now Colombia) for the study of his greatest subject and object of mystery, ants. Chapters 4-15 each offer a different discovery through his journal excerpts, illuminated by EO Wilson's knowledge on ant behaviours and modern speculation of species described. Chapter 16 and the epilogue wrap up his work and nudge the reader into sharp awareness of The Leafcutter Ants: Civilization by Instinct sitting tantalisingly within reach…

In 1761, travelling up the banks of the Magdalena River on his way to the capital Santa Fe de Bogotá, Mutis began noting down every species of ant he came across and came to a grand total of twelve. Small in number but of immense significance, this marked the first foray into the previously undescribed, scientifically unheard-of field of South American ant species. Over the next decade he discerned the physiology and behaviours of two 'superstars', the leafcutters of the genus Atta and the army-raiders of the genus Eciton. He also notes the caste systems of queens, "princesses" and "princes", workers and soldier ants, which we now know as the reproductive caste and sterile worker caste. He overcomes his patriarchal assumptions of the large, combative soldier ants being male and watches aghast at the 'delicate' actual males swarming with 'lust' to mate a newly-flighted queen.

Mutis also observes the migrations of the army ants which plunder landscapes of all little-sized life to the extent where they must migrate continuously to new feeding grounds. Furthermore, he describes the defoliating behaviour of the leafcutters which so devastated Portuguese settler attempts at cropping that the saying came about, "Either Brazil will conquer the ants of the ants will conquer Brazil." More relevant to us, he notes the planting of yucca as a sacrifice crop in corn plantations and installation of tree-nesting cacotaya ants to fend off leafcutter intruders. Integrated Pest Management has always been in the farmer's toolbox for non-chemical control. For the Green Evolution the transition away from pesticide reliance and resistance relies on an understanding of these intricate, underlying interactions between 'beneficials', 'pests', and the environment which they inhabit.

The biggest mystery of the work is where Mutis' two books went. Although he desperately wished to join Carl Linnaeus through admission to the Academy of Sciences of Uppsala, his first treatise was lost in transit in 1770 and no longer mentioned in their correspondence afterwards. He undertook a second expedition in 1777, moving to Cerro del Sapo under the official business of "supporting" the mines there (with one sentence of his "work" in the excerpts), but Linnaeus died the year after, never to recognise him in our terms as the (unofficial) eighteenth apostle.

Six years too late, Mutis entered the Academy in 1784 and the next year wrote to Swedish naturalist Gustaf von Paykull on the topic of a second, replacement treatise, but then…? Silence up to his death in 1808. Following this the Royal Expedition was split into four people, three of whom are executed in the years leading up to the disestablishment of New Granada in 1819. The zoologist, Jorge Tadeo Lozano, with no prior knowledge of ants had published under his name 'Treatise on the Ants of New Granada', and at last the article reappears before being thrown back into the obscurity of time and revolution.

We only know the products of his inquisitiveness and stinging, biting hardship through good fortune. In the mid-1900s his complete diary resurfaced and was pieced together by Colombian historian Hernández de Alba, then translated by José M. Gómez Durán for our enjoyment.

Look, I would highly recommend this book for casual reading wherever you go. It is slim, light, and a great introduction to the developments in our knowledge of ants. Start at any point in the book and find yourself entertained and enlightened, there is no shortage of either joy with the skilful weaving of Mutis' baffled yet assertive musings and Wilson's modern reflections. Two great myrmecologists, one carving out the foundations and the other looking back on what we now know.

[Klimcicle · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is excellent. In it, a fabulous historical research work is carried out and the story of one of the most illustrious spanish entomologists is told. It is a very good book suitable for any entomologist or any interested party who has a minimum of technical knowledge because otherwise its reading may be difficult.

If you do not have a minimum knowledge and you venture to read it, do not do as someone has already done in their review and be fair, refrain from giving a mediocre rating. If it is not understood by lack of basis for it, it is not the fault of the book, nor does it mean that it is a bad book, or that it is poorly written. The truly interested will know how to value it as the masterful work that it is.

[Sabina Hahn · Rating 5 out of 5]

What better words by which to be remembered, as a scientist and as a human:
“Meanwhile, Mutis lives on in memory as a pioneer scientist struggling virtually alone, thrilled by the wonders around him, and never deterred by the handicaps he faced in unraveling them.”

“JANUARY 8, 1779 (MINES OF CERO DEL SAPO)
I thank God that today I got the greatest pleasure in making a discovery, in this case, one for which I have been yearning a long time. I wanted to see the union of male and female of some ants, to determine the features of each sex. It is necessary to live alone, away from other people, in order to learn the secrets of Nature; and my current state is very suitable for the purpose of studying the admirable and prodigious creations of Nature. “

“Once my curiosity was satisfied I instructed the gardener to visit the anthill every day in the early morning, in order to continue my observations.
In this account, Mutis reports that the army-ant bivouacs are made up mostly of the bodies of the ants themselves. The ants form what appears to be "a cluster hung in the air." In fact, close exami nation with a magnifying glass would have revealed to him (in case he could stay so close!) that the workers use their large hook-like claws, located at the ends of their tarsi (feet), to link themselves to others, claw to claw. They form chains and sheets of linked bodies that lie together in sheets to form a single mass. The surface of the mass, acting like a kind of living Velcro, adheres to the sides of tree trunks, tree cavities, and dead logs. The army ants thus dispense with the expensive and time-consuming excavation and assembly of materials required to build an ordinary nest. They are able to change their bivouacs simply by walking from one location to another and forming chains and sheets of their own bodies.”

[Gregg Hower · Rating 4 out of 5]

The documentation of the existence of an under recognized scientist in South America at the turn of the Nineteenth century, and his pioneering work in the study of ants. This book is not overly technical, and generally free of unexplained jargon. I seldom read books on science, this volume was fascinating both for the glimpse into the past and how Mutis' observations generally confirm what is know today, though in greater detail, about ants.

[Mark A · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant translation of a scientific, exploratory work!

[Audrey · Rating 3 out of 5]

A book about Jose Celestino Mutis, a Spanish entomologist who studied the ants of New Grenada (modern day Colombia and surrounding areas). Interesting from a scientific perspective but like most science books very dry. It took forever to get through the book and it was less than 100 pages long. I would only recommend this book to people who are interested in the subject, like biographies or diary type books, and aren't grossed out by someone explaining how ants mate.

[Robert · Rating 4 out of 5]

As usual, Wilson's work is accessible to the lay reader in this short treatment. There is enough here to pique the curiosity for those who might be interested in further exploring the etymological subject.