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1. As I write this, just after Thanksgiving, the United States is in the middle of one of Nature's displays of sustained whimsy. In Northern California, where I live, we are suffering high winds and arctic cold. In the Northeast, Indian Summer looks as if it may stretch into the new year, and folks are buying Christmas trees while they frantically reopen their swimming pools. A perfect pataphysical climate for Mike Davis' new Ecology of Fear. Just when everyone outside of the Wall Street Journal's sumptuous offices and the U.S. Government's dilapidated ones realizes
that global warming (the vagueness of "climate change" is probably more
accurate) is for real, the author of City of Quartz, that White Album of Cultural
Studies, incarnates the noblest traditions of the left with a beautifully
written, elegantly reasoned volume which proves that the situation is far, far worse
than we had suspected.
2. Davis' previous book, City of Quartz, is a magisterial overview of how the
built environment of Los Angeles incarnates the will of its ruling class,
and how that ruling class has led the tireless effort to make this country into the
world's tackiest and most violent banana republic. What gives that book a sort of
wretched poignancy is Davis' sardonic near-admiration for the cleverness and
diligence of the forces of evil, how thoroughly they have colonized not only the
physical city, but even those ideas and movements which ought to be providing
alternatives to the existing order. It's a bleak piece of work, but surely
nothing else written before Rodney King and the riots (actually, the proper term is
"insurrections") displayed anything like the same prescience about the
post-Reagan years. Ecology of Fear takes as its starting point the possibility that the
environment itself may be exacting a kind of vengeance for what has been done to
it in the course of creating the L.A. that so repels and fascinates Davis.
3. This book is about disasters - fires, floods, earthquakes, even wild
animal attacks. Davis makes two dialectically related points about the recent cluster of
catastrophes in Southern California. First, our previous notions of normal
climactic and seismic activity in the region were entirely too sanguine,
based on extrapolations from a recent history which has been anything but "average:"
4. "As science over the past decade has laid the foundations for a true
environmental history of the Los Angeles region, the modern era has come to look
increasingly anomalous. Recent research on past climate change and seismic
activity has transformed the question 'Why so many recent disasters?' into the
truly unnerving question 'Why so few?'" (37-8)
5. Or to put it another way, what if the 1994 Northridge quake, with its $42
billion damage, can't even be considered particularly bad? Davis does a fine job
laying out the scientific case for this ghastly prospect in layman's terms;
his ability to organize recondite materials in clear and convincing fashion is a lesson to
anyone who aspires to analyze current events or lead an apocalyptic
religious cult.
6. The second part of the argument is, thank goodness, just as troubling. While
deluding themselves with false projections of the likelihood of disaster,
the city's leaders have, for decades, monomanacially pursued development schemes and
zoning strategies which have made increases in the frequency and severity of
natural disasters inevitable:
7. "Paranoia about nature, of course, distracts attention from the
obvious fact
that Los Angeles has deliberately put itself in harm's way. For
generations, market-driven urbanization has transgressed environmental common sense. Historic
wildfire corridors have been turned into view-lot suburbs, wetland liquefaction
zones into marinas, and floodplains into industrial districts and housing
tracts. Monolithic public works have been substituted for regional planning and a
responsible land ethic. As a result, Southern California has reaped flood,
fire, and earthquake tragedies that were as avoidable, as unnatural as the beating of
Rodney King and the subsequent explosion in the streets."(9)
8. Here, in the description of how his hometown's natural beauty and sense of
human possibility were sacrificed in the name of plutocracy, Davis returns
to the mode of City of Quartz, but with an even darker hue. He is masterful when
laying out the class warfare of home fires - when the rich are repeatedly
burned out of their magnificent homes, which burn like clockwork as a result of being
built in firebelt regions where Smokey the Bear's policy of total fire suppression
rather than periodic controlled burning makes catastrophe unavoidable, they receive massive
federal subsidies that allow the build-and-burn cycle to continue. The money is
taken from programs for the poor and working class, who are regularly burned out
of their shabby tenements for a much less natural reason: the state declines to
enforce even the pitiably weak fire-safety regulations that are on the
books, for fear of troubling the sleep of slumlords. In the words of James Baldwin, "what a
monumental achievement on the part of those heroes who conquered the North
American wilderness!"
9. To lighten the mood after this catalogue of misery, Davis digresses into an
entertaining and nigh-exhaustive survey of the literature about L.A'.s many
possible extinctions. The reader is favored with a chart listing twenty-three
different ways the city has been fictionally destroyed, from nuclear war to runaway
bermuda grass, further organized by frequency. Davis' command of the irrelevant detail
here would slacken the jaw of Robbe-Grillet.
10. Fortunately, nonfictional misery returns for the final chapter, which
is a superb sixty page updating of the themes of City of Quartz, specifically the
omnipresence of high-tech security in L.A.'s built environment, and that
security's human face, the brutal and unchecked police force which has become the only
social program for which the city's bourgeoisie is willing to pay taxes.
Those who believe that our nation's problems stem from its insufficient resemblance
to Brazil or Guatemala will find signs of progress here and throughout the book.
Everybody else will be driven to the edge of despair. But one does leave Ecology of Fear
with a truly dialectical sense of our future: If we don't address our
environmental problems, extinction may be inevitable. But if we fail to repair our
tattered civil society, that extinction may become not just inevitable, but preferable.
Paul Murphy, University of California, Berkeley
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by PaulMurphy
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