European Romantic Review,
Vol. 15, No. 3, September 2004, pp. 481–491
ISSN 1050–9585 (print)/ISSN 1740–4657 (online) © 2004 Taylor & Francis Ltd
DOI: 10.1080/1050958042000240316

Book Reviews
Taylor and Francis Ltd gerr041019.sgm 10.1080/1050958042000240316 European Romantic Review 1050-9585 (print) Original Article 2004 & Francis Ltd 15 3000000September 2004 ReginaHewitt

The Romantic Conception of Life: Science and Philosophy in the Age of Goethe

ROBERT J. RICHARDS
Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2002
xix + 587 pp ; 55 illustrations.

Romantic science, especially in the guise of German Naturphilosophie, used to be viewed as something of a blind alley, far from the highroad of Western empiricism, 

484
Book Reviews

with its promise of positive knowledge of the natural world and endless technological progress. As Robert Richards reminds us, there were some notable exceptions in the nineteenth century, including Helmholtz and Darwin. In the twentieth century, though, the damning judgment of T. H. Huxley, for whom Romantic ‘metaphorical mystification’ as anathema to ‘true’ science, has tended to prevail, and not only among scientists.  Ironically, the ramification of knowledge into separate and increasingly specialized spheres of research and reflection, that second scientific revolution which began to take off during the Romantic period, subsequently blocked a wider appreciation of the achievements of Romantic science itself. Precisely to the extent that the Romantic approach to knowledge was oriented towards disclosing the underlying unity of mind and matter, history and nature, art and science, it has been marginalized from both sides of the great divide that has since been erected between the ‘human’ and ‘natural’ sciences. It is perhaps in part for this reason that Schelling’s radical rethinking of nature has been so vastly overshadowed by the Hegelian dialectics of history and subjectivity, while Goethe’s fame as an author has so thoroughly eclipsed his scientific endeavors. Even where individual figures, such as Alexander von Humboldt, or specific contributions, such as Goethe’s to morphology, are acknowledged, their links with Romantic
Naturphilosophie have typically been denied or devalued. 

	The revaluation of Romantic science, to which Richards makes a major new contribution with this book, began in the late 1980s. One of the key contexts for this shift  was a growing disenchantment with the fruits of mainstream modern science. Many of the contributors to the volume on Goethe and the Sciences: A Reappraisal edited by Frederick Amrine, Francis J. Zucker and Harvey Wheeler (D. Reidel, 1987), for example, look to Goethe for an alternative model of scientific knowledge, ‘that would avoid the alienating and destructive effects upon the social and ecological environment that technological progress has brought in train’ (Editor’s introduction, xiii). This quest for a less mechanistic and instrumental understanding of the natural world also informs many of the contributions to later collections on Romanticism and the sciences as well. (See, for example, Andrew Cunningham and Nicholas Jardine, Romanticism and the Sciences [Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1990]; Stefano Poggi and Maurizio Bossi, Romanticism in Science [New York: Kluwer, 1994]; David Seamon and Arthur Zajonc, Goethe’s Way of Science [New York: SUNY P, 1998].) Whereas for some, the alternative offered by the Romantics represented a radical departure from the currently dominant model, for others it was revalued as a different approach within, rather than to, modern science.  Although there are a few surprising omissions (notably the volumes edited by Poggi and Bossi, Seamon and Zajonc, and David Farrell Krell’s Contagion, Sexuality, Disease and Death in German Idealism and Romanticism [Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1998]), Richards builds upon much of this earlier work of reassessment. However, he also opens up a significantly new line of inquiry with regard to the contribution of Romanticism to the biological sciences in particular. The main burden of his book is that ‘the central currents of nineteenth-century biology had their origins in the [German] Romantic movement’ (xix). Beginning with a fascinating account of the emergence of German Romanticism in Jena in the 1790s, including a lucid presentation of the philosophical revolution wrought by Kant and its radicalization in Fichtean Idealism, as well 
European Romantic Review
485 

as an engaging depiction of the turbulent private lives of what is possibly Europe’s firstever grouping of self-consciously avant-garde poets, philosophers, and scholars, Richards focuses on the contributions of Schelling and Goethe in particular to the theory of evolution. Richards is no newcomer to the history and philosophy of evolutionary thought: he has already published Darwin and the Emergence of Evolutionary Theories of Mind and Behavior
(Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1987) and The Meaning of Evolution: The Morphological Construction and Ideological Reconstruction of Darwin’s Theory (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1992). As in his earlier books, he emphasizes the multiplicity of models of evolutionary development put forward in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Repositioning Schelling and Goethe in relation to other significant contemporaries, such as J. H. Blumenbach, C. F. von Kielmeyer, J. C. Reil, John Brown, and Erasmus Darwin, Richards differentiates between the genealogical version of evolution that eventually came to predominance through the later Darwin’s definitive work on the ‘origin of species,’ and the idealist-realist understanding of ‘dynamic evolution’ developed by Schelling and Goethe. He nonetheless insists that Darwin’s theory owed much to the German Romantics’ theories of species transformation and embryonic recapitulation, and to their attribution of an inherent telic structure to nature itself—something which Darwin’s British predecessors still reserved for God. Conversely, the revolution wrought by Schelling and Goethe, Richards argues, ‘straightened the path for German zoologists to advance more quickly and easily to
Lamarckian and Darwinian theories than could their counterparts in England and France’ (211). In other words, it is not so much as an alternative to the mainstream than as a hitherto unrecognized source of it, that Richards asks us to revalue the Romantic legacy.

	As becomes clear in the lengthy ‘Epilogue,’ however, one of the most interesting
consequences of this approach is to challenge prevalent assumptions about the characteristics of the ‘mainstream’ itself. Countering the common view of Darwin as a utilitarian, whose theorization of the ‘mechanism’ of evolution through natural selection effectively stripped nature of all moral value, Richards concludes his book by recasting the author of
The Origin of Species as a ‘Romantic biologist’ (513), whose debt to the Naturphilosophen,
largely mediated through Alexander von Humboldt, extended to a profound sense of the aesthetic and moral dimension both of nature itself and of its scientific investigation. Through a close reading of the ‘archaeology’ of the Origin, Richards demonstrates that, far from functioning blindly and mechanistically, Darwinian natural selection is a godlike creative force operating within nature as a teleologically self-organizing structure: it is, in other words, less like a Manchester mechanical loom than Schelling’s ‘world soul.’

	In addition to rendering Darwin more Romantic than he has seemed hitherto,
Richards also reveals German Naturphilosophie to have been a good deal less purely speculative than has generally been assumed. Schelling’s endeavors to understand the dynamic operation of natural systems were informed by the latest developments in many areas of empirical research. Unlike Fichte, who sought to resolve the split between mind and nature opened up by Kant on the level of the subject, Schelling maintained that it was necessary to look beyond the self in order to gain 
486
Book Reviews

an understanding of the natural world out of which, he argued, human consciousness had itself emerged. Like Goethe, with whom he conducted some optical experiments of his own in Jena in 1798, Schelling acknowledged that, ‘all our knowledge is constituted by experience’ (465):
Naturphilosophie was not a substitute for experimental science, but rather its necessary complement.  Of Goethe’s nature studies, which conjoined experimentation and reflection in equal measure, Richards quite rightly observes that to deny that this was ‘science’ is to presuppose ‘some mythical ideal and not the actual standards set in the nineteenth century’ (408). 

	As well as overthrowing the binary of British empiricism and German ‘mystification,’ Richards also challenges the opposition of Romantik and Klassik , still clung to by many Germanists. Against this narrow and homogenizing definition of Romanticism, Richards stresses that the German Romantic movement was ‘complex and fraught’ (6n12). What nonetheless makes it identifiable as a ‘movement’ was the new ‘conception of life’ articulated in various ways and with varying emphases by the young bloods in Jena, as well as by Goethe in Weimar, and Humboldt in Berlin: a conception centered around ‘creative becoming, development, and self-realization’ (200). By this reckoning, Hegel too would have to be regarded as a major Romantic thinker (despite his antipathy for contemporary Romantic literature). Richards does mention the great dialectician in relation to his early friendship and short-lived collaboration with his erstwhile room mate, Schelling. However, it is unfortunate that he overlooks Hegel’s later three-volume philosophy of nature, a relatively neglected part of his oeuvre, which also bears reconsideration vis-à-vis Schelling’s postulate of dynamic evolution in the context of contemporary and later developments in the sciences. (See, for example, Robert S. Cohen and Marx W. Wartofsky, eds., Hegel and the Sciences [Dordtrecht: D. Reidel, 1984] and Rolf-Peter Horstmann and Michael John Petry, eds., Hegels Philosophie
der Natur. Beziehungen zwischen empirischer und spekulativer Naturerkenntnis [Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1986].) What Richards nonetheless does do admirably, is to provide a highly nuanced and carefully researched account of Goethe’s (complex and fraught) relationship to the Jena Romantics, foregrounding especially the closeness of his connection with Schelling, who, he argues, ‘secured the lines of Goethe’s drifting metaphysical views’ (464).

	One of the most striking aspects of Richards’s approach to the revaluation of 
Romantic science is the way that it resonates with its topic. This is no mere history of ideas but a thoroughly Romantic endeavor to re-embed the life of the mind in embodied experience. In Richards’s racy reconstruction of the biographical circumstances within which the Romantics developed their revolutionary new understandings of nature, the figure of the author is very much alive once more. For many readers, this will add greatly to the interest and enjoyment of his book. Richards wittily justifies his biographical approach on the grounds that to sever the text from the life of the person who wrote it, ‘is the critical equivalent of endorsing the virgin birth; it is a modernist theology that must founder on a more severe study of generation’ (350). While this is undoubtedly true, it is clear that other kinds of circumstances, including socio-political and intertextual factors, also play a role. While the former do get attention here, the latter are somewhat neglected. Although he does discuss the Romantics’ indebtedness 
European Romantic Review
487

to Spinoza, Richards tends to downplay the extent to which they also rework earlier discourses of nature, such as those of Renaissance Neoplatonism and hermeticism.  Perhaps this is partly strategic. While earlier champions of Kielmeyer, for example, might have been guilty of ‘obliterating’ what they perceived as the ‘unhappy shadow’ of Schelling, Richards rehabilitates Schelling by purifying his thought of its more mystical strains.
	
	This also leads Richards to bracket Schelling’s later theological writing, which he appears all too ready to view (à la Heine) as a ‘retreat from reason’ (198). This is regrettable, 
as it is arguably here that Schelling overcomes the epistemological hubris of his earlier philosophy, whereby the underlying unity of mind and nature held out the possibility that the natural researcher could, as Richards puts it, ‘eventually get to the bottom of things’ (134). (See Andrew Bowie, Schelling and Modern European Philosophy [London: Routledge, 1993].) In his eagerness to emphasize the positive contribution of the Romantics to the biological sciences, Richards overlooks the way in which Schelling’s later acknowledgement of the inevitable limits of human understanding, like Goethe’s insistence that ‘we theorize every time we look carefully at the world’ (Scientific Studies, ed. and trans. D. Miller Princeton: Princeton UP, 1988], 159), might be called upon to counter the dangerous illusion that ultimate knowledge of, and hence control over, the natural world, is within our grasp.
Despite these elisions, Richards’s book does bring together many key aspects of the Age of Goethe in a novel and illuminating way. Richards’s own lively prose, it should also be noted, is dotted with deft translations from the German primary sources that he uses throughout. There will no doubt be considerable debate about some of his claims. But that is only to be expected of any scholarly work that sets out to radically rewrite an accepted historical narrative, and succeeds in doing so with as much solid research, sound argumentation and rhetorical flourish as Richards does here. 

Kate Rigby
Monash University