River Weeds: A Novel of Love, Lust, and Poison Ivy, part two.

This novel, which I introduced previously (cover), introduces some very serious issues, even though the author treats them with humor.

First, racism. Rea and her mother are full-blood Cherokee, while Earl is a white racist. (He obviously wasn’t when he first married the mother. Rice leaves this unexplained.) The way Rea describes it, white people see Native Americans as “dirt-colored drunks passed out in the ditch on the rez in flyover country.” Can’t get much worse than this, can it?

Yes, it can.

Not only is the racism contemporaneous but extends also into the past. Most white people (as Rea explains, echoing the words of Rice’s nonfiction book Forgotten Landscapes) see Natives as, at least in the past, savage hunter-gatherers. But many tribes, including Rea’s Cherokee tribe, fed large populations from big farms, and lived in big cities—some of them the biggest in the world a few centuries ago. Whites see themselves as not only being but having always been the forefront of civilization.

And there’s more. The adoption of Native children by white parents sounds like a good idea, only it resulted in the erosion of Native cultures, even when the white parents had the best of intentions. The 1978 Indian Child Welfare Act directly addressed this problem. You can read about it in at least two novels by Barbara Kingsolver.

The second issue is the oppression of women. Earl is not only violent toward Rea but also intends to rape her—and would have, were it not for the intervention of poison ivy. One of the reasons Rea loves Marten is, as she says, “You know how to grab a woman by the part of her body that matters most—her brain.” Rea becomes something of a heroine among women and among Cherokees, although she was just trying to live her life.

European Forests Also Need Control Burns

…but are not getting them. European forests have grown up in thick stands of saplings, just like most American forests. In North America, the Natives kept the forest undergrowth cleared away, which benefited agriculture and hunting, by the controlled use of fire, as I explain in chapter 2 of my recent book Forgotten Landscapes. When European diseases and conquest killed off ninety percent of Native populations in America, the forests shifted from bountiful productivity to being “a forest of sticks” choked by undergrowth.  Native fires were an essential part of what a “natural” forest should be like in North America.

It appears to me that the same is true in Europe. It is likely that the tribal peoples of Europe, before (and after?) Roman conquest, burned their forests just as Native Americans did theirs. The forest preserves we see in America, and in Europe, today are not “natural” but have resulted from fire suppression in recent centuries. This would be true even of the last “virgin forest” in Europe,  Białowieża in Poland.

I explored one of the last fragments of pre-industrial Rhineland forest in France earlier this summer. It is (what passes in Europe for) an extensive forest southeast of Strasbourg. I hiked around on just a portion of its extensive system of trails. Beech trees (Fagus sylvatica) dominated the canopy and its seedlings were abundant on the forest floor. Maples (Acer pseudoplatanus) dominated the forest floor and had some canopy trees, along with two species of linden (Tilia cordata and T. platyphyllos). There were a lot of shrubs, especially the field maple (Acer campestre), dogwood (Cornus mas), hazelnut (Corylus avellana), and hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna).

This forest had been undisturbed for a long time—the beeches were large and tall. But it was not that long ago, perhaps a century and a half, when the forest had been cut down. In a desperate but successful attempt to control the resulting soil erosion, the French government planted conifers (in the lowlands, Norway spruce, and on the hillsides Douglas fir from America) which persist in a few places, remnants of once successful forestry but now ceding their dominance to hardwoods.

It was a peaceful and wonderful place to hike. But it was not natural. In my book I wrote about Native inhabitants being an essential part of the “natural” landscape in America. And it appears that the same is true in Europe. I suspect this is a general pattern. Sam Goldwyn is said to have quipped that wilderness is “where the hand of man has never set foot.” But I think this may not be true not only in America but anywhere else. Humans have always been, ever since we mastered fire, an important factor in the operation of entire landscapes all over the world.

The only alternative to small, frequent fires is large, perhaps equally frequent fires. This is what is happening in America, where the lack of control burns has allowed huge forest fires to get started especially in the west. But the same is true where I now live in France. With increasing frequency, the forests of southern France burn in the hot, dry summers. With global climate change, the forests where I now live in northern France will also burn more frequently. The problem will take care of itself, though not in a way we would like.

The New World of Mega-fires

Mega-fires! Or, megafeux in French, as in the book Quand la Forêt Brûle: Penser La Novelle Catastrophe Écologique by Joëlle Zask (Premier Parallèle, 2019). (When the Forest Burns : Thinking about the New Ecological Catastrophe.)

Through much of my professional life, I have considered fires (in forests, prairies, and chaparrals) to be ecologically beneficial. Where to begin with the ecological benefits of fires? Fires clear away underbrush and release nutrients in the dead litter into the soil where new plants can grow back and use them. The sunlight can now reach the soil surface, warming it up earlier in the spring than would have been possible with a thick litter layer still in place. In many cases, the perennial plants that were present before the fire grow back, more vigorous than they were before. This is the case for hundreds of species of prairie plants, which maintain their thick sod of roots and underground stems. It is also true, as I have seen for the cross timbers forest of Oklahoma. As for the plants that grow back from seeds in the soil, the seeds germinate profusely, as I have seen Phacelia strictiflora do in cross-timbers forests after fires. So frequent are these fires that many plants have adapted to them even to the extent of requiring the fires to maintain their populations. My research has shown that Phacelia seeds require smoke chemicals in order to germinate; the same is true for hundreds of species around the world in fire-prone habitats such as chaparral. How can fire, which has so many ecological benefits, be bad?

Fire has long been a tool of habitat management. The whole landscape evolved with wildfires. Since the spread of western civilization, wildfires have decreased, mostly because people do not like to have their homes destroyed by fire. Ecological landscape managers have to set control burns to compensate for the decline in wildfires. This photo shows a control burn near Lake Texoma in Oklahoma in 1999.

In the absence of natural fires and control burns, dead biomass builds up under the trees and virtually assures that a fire will break out soon and be very big.

White landscape managers were not the first to use fire as a management tool. All over the world, native peoples have set fires to forests and fields to renew their growth. This was nowhere more true than with the Native peoples of North America, as I describe in my book Forgotten Landscapes.

But times are changing. In particular, global warming is changing the landscape. As Naomi Klein said in the title of her book about the economics and politics of global climate change, This Changes Everything. It has certainly changed the scientific way of thinking about fire.

Global climate change includes not only hotter temperatures but less rainfall and more wind in many areas, such as southern Europe during recent long, hot, dry, windy summers. This is not a prediction; it is something that has already happened in many parts of the world. Some of these forest fires have flames almost a hundred feet tall and that spread faster than anybody can run. The fires consume houses, including outdoor free-standing barbecue grills which are built to withstand fire: the grills simply melt.

Other human activities promote the spread of large fires. All around the world, not only in rainforests but even where I used to live in Oklahoma, native forests are cut down and replaced by tree plantations such as loblolly pine. Tree plantations, with breezy understories and with flammable, fast-growing trees, burn more readily than native forests.

The result is that, right when we need control burns more than ever, we do not dare to conduct them. There is a tremendous liability cost associated with a control burn that gets out of hand. If a private citizen loses so much as a shed to a government control burn, the land-owner will sue for lots of money. As global warming progresses, almost any control burn is guaranteed to escape and become a major fire.

A mega-fire, unlike most smaller fires, can and do sterilize the soil, so that there are no roots, stems, or seeds to grow back. The resulting moonscape will recover, but it might take many decades and suffer uncontrolled soil erosion in the meantime.

The time is coming, and in some places is already here, when there will be no such thing as a little control burn. There will be only mega-fires.

I have retired, so it is too late for me to tell my classes, forget everything I said about control burns.

Pre-Columbian Native American Orchards?

I posted a video from an apple orchard in Alsace, France. Whether in France or in America, an orchard consists of just one species of fruit or nut tree, and practically nothing else like weeds, shrubs, etc. It is about as different from a natural forest as you can get.

But, before European contact, Native Americans had orchards. They were not orchards in which the people cut down a natural forest (which would have been a lot of work) but rather they were natural forests that the natives altered to have more of the tree species in which they were interested.

For example, Native Americans loved chestnuts. Chestnuts grew wild in North American forests (before an introduced fungus killed all of them in the twentieth century). According to forest ecologist Thomas Bonnicksen, after the ice ages about four percent of the eastern forest was suitable for chestnuts to grow. But chestnuts grew in forty percent of the forest area, primarily because Natives planted the seeds and set fires, thus altering the microclimate. They did not totally create chestnut orchards, but they enhanced chestnut forests into something like chestnut orchards. They did this so much that we can no longer know to what extent the “wild” chestnut groves are partly the product of Native orchards.

In southern North America there are many natural stands of pecan trees. Natives loved pecans. They had pecan orchards. They did not plant the orchards from scratch, but they altered existing pecan forests by planting more pecans, creating something like a pecan orchard. They did this so much that we can no longer know to what extent the “wild” pecan groves are partly the product of Native orchards.

In California, Native tribes depended on acorns. There were many natural oak forests, but the Natives pruned and planted oaks, to extend the existing forests and make them more productive. They did this so much that we can no longer know to what extent the “wild” oak groves are partly the product of Native orchards.

The most dramatic example is the palm oases of southern California. Are they natural? We always thought so. But why is it that these desert oases, east of San Diego, consist almost exclusively of native fan palms (Washingtonia filifera)? Some ecologists think that Natives planted the palm trees there and managed them, to keep other species out. Why? These fan palms, just like date palms, produce delicious and nutritious fruits. They did this so much that we can no longer know to what extent the “wild” palm groves are partly the product of Native orchards, if in fact there have ever been “wild” palm groves.

 

Native Americans transformed the landscape of North America and deserve credit for being something other than “mere” hunter-gatherers. I explain this in my recent book Forgotten Landscapes: How Native Americans Created Pre-Columbian North America and What We Can Learn from It.

Darwin Climbs a Cathedral

When I started making a video on the platform halfway up the cathedral in Strasbourg (which is the highest point that is open to the public and which can be reached on foot), I wondered how I could possibly tie it in with science. My YouTube channel, after all, is about science. I cannot simply post nice tourist videos showing the cathedral spire and the roofs of new and old Strasbourg.

But it didn’t take me long to come up with a science angle for the video. When they started building the cathedral in 1015, no one knew how old or big the world, or certainly the universe, was. People, especially the laborers who built the cathedral, lived in a cloak of darkness. Any question that could not be answered by the church was not worth asking. Scholars knew the world was not flat, but it might as well have been.

The builders kept adding to the height of the cathedral, and it reached its current height in 1439. This was before Copernicus was born. For over a century afterwards, people believed the sun, moon, and stars orbited around the Earth which was the center of God’s attention. From 1647 to 1874, the cathedral in Strasbourg was the tallest structure in the world. It is still the tallest building that was constructed entirely in the Middle Ages.

When Copernicus died, the idea that the Sun, not the Earth, was the center of the solar system was still heresy. But within a century, all of that changed. By the time the current Horlogue Astronomique (astronomical clock) was installed on the ground floor of the cathedral in 1843, everyone knew the planets orbited around the sun and that Copernicus was right. The giant clock even had the planets that were known at the time moving around the sun, and even had a portrait of Copernicus, the man the church would have killed in 1543 except that he was already dead. Today the Catholic Church celebrates the Copernican view of the universe. The Vatican even has an observatory and an official astronomer.

 

But by the time the cathedral had already reached its full height, the church and world were still in scientific darkness.

Another thing you can tell by looking at the roofs of Strasbourg from the cathedral is that Strasbourg has existed for a long time, at least since Roman times, when it was called Argentoratum (city of silver). Everyone is aware of the ancient legacy of Europe, Asia, and even Africa and Central and South America. But North America also had an ancient legacy of civilization. As I explain in my recent book Forgotten Landscapes, the big cities of North America (such as Cahokia and Spiro) have been forgotten by nearly everyone. Cahokia is now just some mounds of dirt, and Spiro not even that. The historical legacy of my Native American ancestors has been effaced from the surface of the planet.

President Trump's Columbus Day Proclamation

President Trump has proclaimed that on Columbus Day, 2025, Americans should honor Christopher Columbus as “the original American hero, a giant of Western civilization, and one of the most gallant and visionary men to ever walk the face of the earth.” 

What followed Columbus’s encounter with America in 1492 was a legacy, not of “faith, courage, perseverance, and virtue” but of conquest, disease, and slavery. While I will admit that Columbus probably did not intend the entire Native population of two continents to be slaughtered and enslaved, and all their resources grabbed by force, he certainly began the process. While we may not necessarily condemn Columbus, neither should we revere him. He was NOT the original American hero, as if the indigenous people who were already in America did not even exist—there is no mention of them in Trump’s proclamation.

To listen to Trump, you would get the impression that the white domination over Native America was a completely good thing. This is false, as I explained in my recent book Forgotten Landscapes: How Native Americans Created Pre-ColumbianNorth America and What We Can Learn from It. My book is not a vicious liberal attack on Columbus, but a scientific evaluation of what America was like before Columbus and what happened after him.

 

 

Native American history has, in the popular mind, largely been erased. Most Americans know nothing about Native Americans, other than as dark inconvenient people who stood in the way of white progress, and continue to do so today, as explained in detail in Thomas King’s The Inconvenient Indian: A Curious Account of Native People in North America.

We had been making progress so that even in many red states the Monday nearest to October 12 was recognized either as Columbus Day or Indigenous People’s Day. Under Trump, we have gone back to exclusively the white version. In this as in many other ways, Trump is leading us fearlessly into the twentieth century.

If you agree with Trump that Columbus was inspired completely by the desire to “spread the gospel of Jesus Christ to distant lands”; that evangelism consists of killing some of the people who had not yet heard about Jesus, enslaving others, and taking their land, then you are welcome to join President Trump in celebrating Columbus. And you should get out your guns and go on an evangelistic expedition into whatever hotspots of anti-Christianity you might choose.

Forgotten Landscapes: Native Americans and Cool Shade

I have just published my sixth book, Forgotten Landscapes: How Native Americans Created Pre-Columbian North America and What We Can Learn from It. I am starting a series of essays and videos to promote portions of this book. The video that goes along with this essay is here.

In this book, I describe one ecological problem that white European and American villages had that Cherokee and other Native villages did not was the problem of how to stay cool in the summer.

The video shows my neighborhood in Alsace, France. It is densely populated, and there are hundreds of condominiums right next to my building. Our condominiums are very energy-efficient, even the ones built a long time ago, such as mine. Our windows and walls are thick, which keeps our units quiet as well as insulated. And this is how that efficiency is achieved:

• Sources of energy. Instead of each condominium having its own individual heating units, as is often the case in America, these buildings get their heat from hot water going through radiators. The hot water comes from a network from a centralized power plant where furnaces burn methane to heat the water. The methane (as I described in the previous video) comes partly from food wastes.
• Required energy efficiency. Whenever one of the condominiums is sold, the building owner has to meet new standards of energy efficiency, e.g. through improvement of insulation; the building owners pass the costs to condo owners who pass the costs on to renters.
• Little but deliberate things. In the middle of our courtyard there are a lot of trees, which provide cool shade. There are two reasons for this. First, the leaves absorb sunlight energy and emit the heat straight up into the air, away from where we live. Second, transpiration (the evaporation of water) uses up some of the heat energy. These îlots fraîcheurs (cool islands) are a deliberate part of urban planning. Some American cities do this also. Las Vegas recently decided to plant trees to help deal with the over-110-degree summer heat. The problem is, where are they going to get the water for the trees? It can be done, but has to be planned.
• Air conditioning. Very few French apartments have air conditioners. We are just lucky to live 48 degrees north latitude where we can get away with not having air conditioners.

In my book I describe Cherokee villages that were filled with trees that kept them cool. Meanwhile, white cities would, at the time, cut down all the trees. The Cherokees were probably puzzled that white people would work so hard to cut down the trees and then get, literally, hot under the collar about the summer heat.

I doubt that the Native Americans knew more ecology than white Americans. They just thought cutting the trees down was a lot of hard work with nothing to show for it.