In the introduction to this thought-provoking monograph, the reader is immediately drawn into the intrigue when confronted with the statement that, in 1749, a French cartographer ‘erased the world’. What today seems logical − to provide a clear depiction of known locations on maps and to eliminate the rumoured unknown − jolted the sensibilities of eighteenth-century geographers accustomed to decorative, even speculative, representations. This less-decorative map offered fascinating blank spaces, representing unknown territory, which appealed to geographers, to explorers, and to regimes with territorial imperatives.
Carroll examines the potential for conquest and colonization, which this new approach to cartography highlighted, extending the concept beyond terrestrial claims to other geographic realities. She applies the term ‘atopias’ to polar, maritime, atmospheric and subterranean zones, once thought to be physically impossible to conquer and consequently uninhabitable. Alternating between imagined and factual accounts, she discusses the transition of these selected atopias from unknown and wild states to charted and partially-tamed regions.
During the period covered in this book, many Romantic-era authors rejected the constraints of the Enlightenment, or the Age of Reason, as well as the prevailing political trends. Atopias offered them both subject matter that could not be decisively challenged, and the freedom of unrestrained virtual exploration coupled with opportunities for imaginative literary expression. Each atopia − the polar regions, the sea, the air, and the underworlds − is the subject of a dedicated chapter in which the author explains the associated terminology, and draws on the works of Romantic poets, writers and philosophers to illustrate, or to support, her arguments. Content within these clearly-defined chapters is less structured and at times a more logical development of an argument would be welcome.
While acknowledging the exploratory endeavours of other nations, she focuses on the literary, political, exploratory and economic effects of atopias on the British imagination. In the first chapter, the polar ‘province of the imagination’ promoted by literary speculations is also presented as real and challenging atopic space, which has a ‘significant role . . . in the construction of British imperial identity’ and against which citizens could actually test ‘their technology and national character’.
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, members of polar expeditions − including those led by McClure, Nares, Nansen, Peary, and Cook in the Arctic, and Scott, Shackleton and Amundsen in the Antarctic − documented their experiences of the polar regions. Ships' logs, expedition reports and personal journals informed their written publications, which were illustrated with photographs and maps; lantern slides and cinematographic evidence augmented their public lectures. Prior to these factual revelations, the literary world had been free to express whatever extremes the imagination could summon to describe the otherness of the unattainable polar regions.
Carroll calls attention to the monsters and other mythical beings, which abound in polar fiction and poetry of the time, offering Robert Paltock's The Life and Adventures of Peter Wilkins and Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner as examples. She also cites the journals of Captain James Cook and other factual accounts, juxtaposing these with the fictional, as she explores elusive atopic concepts.
The next chapter, The language of the sea, names the ocean as a ‘key component in Britain's national mythology’ and as part of its identity. The author takes extracts from literary works such as Marryat's novel Mr Midshipman Easy, and Falconer's poem The Shipwreck, to highlight the development of Britain's maritime ambitions to ‘rule the waves’ and to profit by conquering fear of the atopic ocean, with trade links and colonial outposts rewarding imperial endeavour. Simultaneously, a culture specific to maritime space − quite apart from the law of the land − developed, and Britain's naval success was dependent on the management of its navy. Carroll extends her references to resources beyond the timeframe stipulated in the title, with the inclusion of the work of Joseph Conrad (1857–1924), his impression of The Voyage of the ‘Fox’ in the Arctic Seas (McClintock 1858), Marlow's ‘review’ of maritime legacy in Heart of Darkness (Conrad 1902), and other examples.
Remaining chapters, The regions of the air and Underworlds, each explore the theme of the relevant atopia to be conquered. Imagination and fact, superstition and reality, contributed to the beliefs of protagonists in the literature referenced. Similarly, Carroll draws on fact and fiction in her attempts to sustain arguments when discussing the impact of perceived atopias on the British imagination.
A few statements invite challenge. For example, mountain peaks as atopias ‘were omitted from this project for reasons of period focus’ and because of ‘large settlements on mountains’. Yet in a classic Romantic-era poem, Mont Blanc (1816), Shelley described the peak as ‘remote, serene and inaccessible’. Though the summit had been reached in 1786, it still evoked sublimity, suggesting that it represented an atopia to the poet. Countless other uninhabited mountains had not been conquered but, because they were represented on maps, they did not meet the author's criteria to be classified as atopic. I found that reasoning inconsistent when Antarctica, which had been represented, though inaccurately, on maps for centuries, and which had been sighted by several expeditions prior to 1850, was classified as an atopia.
A concluding chapter presents the city of London from the eighteenth century to the present day as a developing atopia, becoming more dangerous and more difficult to navigate. Lines from Wordsworth's The Prelude (1799) are quoted to provide an example of an escape from London crowds. Metaphorical references to oceans, caverns and inhospitable spaces in the city reinforce the concept of atopia, with the implication that ‘London cannot ever be fully known’.
Today's technology renders the concept of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century atopias less valid when the geographical south pole now has a research station where people live for extended periods and where crops can be grown in a controlled micro-environment; when space exploration is established practice; when oceans are monitored, and caves can be heritage-listed. This common knowledge could hinder the reader's ability to become completely immersed in the attitude of the defined period, but should not lessen appreciation of the scholarship.
At first I found the front cover unappealing. Complementary images represent two of the book's foci: air and sea, with a hint of subterranean regions. The first, of a balloon, is not easily identified at first glance. Both images − the cavernous shape of the manned balloon as it descends, and the dark cavern into which a boatload of people enters − suggest danger; and this suggestion is possibly enhanced by the dun-coloured design. The inside jacket gives more detail of these nineteenth-century images, but the cover did give an initial impression of lacklustre text within.
This proved to be an indefensible criticism; the content is interesting, widely-researched, annotated, and has a comprehensive index. Siobhan Carroll's work will undoubtedly encourage discussion and further study in the field.
