Collecting the Nation (2): A Study
Note: The preparation for the display can be read here:
Collecting the Nation: Geology in Nationalism, Colonialism, and Modern Education
“Collecting the Nation” is a mini display that I curated at the end of my work placement at the Whipple Museum. Like many other classmates of Museum Studies at the University of Leicester, the work placement is an important part of the programme. I enjoyed the opportunity to research and prepare for the mini display while most didn’t. I would like to take this chance to share a bit of how and why I chose geography and mineralogy as the theme under “Collecting the Nation”. The article will expand on the topics included in the display, i.e. nationalism, colonialism, and modern geology education, as well as how displaying objects of science — specifically geology — in museums could mean to the audience.
The collections in this display — the fossil collection in the form of a book (fossil book) by Václav Frič (1839–1916), the book Malá Geologie written by Antonín Frič (1832–1913), (part of) the cabinet of minerals made by James Tennant (1808–1881), and two kits of Things of Science, were chosen to discuss how geology and mineralogy participated in the making of a nation and became part of the education. Nationalism and colonialism are two ideas that support and represent the existence of a nation, yet the results are completely different. Like many museum professionals who are still striving to present more the trauma and aftermath of colonialism, researchers of the history of science are linking science to the society we live in. Just as the study of medicine is larger than what kills and what cures, but more about the pain and the plight, the study of geology is more than identifying stones and beautiful gems, but more on the consequences when a nation adores and collects them at all cost.
The fossil book made by V. Frič is an excellent example to illustrate the close relationship between science and politics. Margócsy (2022) pointed out, “[Y]et his Vzory vrstev zemských was published in Czech, revealing the growing national interest in natural history in the period.” It is clearly seen that in both the catalogue of the fossil inside the book cover and the labels for each rock specimen are written in Czech, which should have been in German, the official language of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, or in Latin, the lingua franca of science. A formal, unanimous, and concise language to discuss science was much needed for the scholars in the Czech region, as Štrbáňová (2012, p. 649) pointed out, that the language has long been associated with the humanities, such as art and philology, and that “one of the most important items on the agenda of the Czech National Revival was the creation of a modern Czech scientific language.” In closer inspection of the catalogue of fossils in the fossil book, I noticed two things. One would be the examples of where to find the fossils are mostly in the Czech regions, such as Moravě (Moravia) and Budějovie (Bohemia), and the other would be a column entitled “Upotřebení v průmyslu a umění”, which could be roughly translated as “for industrial and artistic purpose”. These two features show that science education was localised with a much more regional focus, and also it serves for the practical development of a nation¹. The Czech Nationalism was included in both history and music lessons in Taiwan, in hope that the students would be able to understand how an independent nation should be based on. Examples in subjects such as geography, natural science, and geology, are also drawn from Taiwanese environment instead of from much better-known ones in the world. I am deeply fascinated by the repetition of methods when it comes to shaping the symbol of a nation.
Once a nation is formed, progression and aggression might come next. Geology and mineralogy played a role in the forming of Czechoslovakia, as well as an important factor in the expansion of the British Empire. Much of the geological specimens in Tennant’s cabinet of minerals are missing, according to the surviving catalogue that came along with the cabinet. Half-hand-written and half-printed, the unbound catalogue reveals the origin of the minerals. Among the 90 rock specimens, 38 of them are from foreign countries and British colonies including Ceylon (today’s Sri Lanka), India, and Sierra Leone.
The most stunning discovery during my preparation for the display would be reading the eight off-prints that were acquired along with the cabinet of minerals. Some of the articles were written by Tennant, and some were written by someone else but distributed with his permission. My eyes were wide open when I read the words from “Facts from the Diamond Fields of South Africa” (Facts), which flagrantly described the prejudice and insinuation towards the African natives. The choice of language, though yet considered to be racial slurs, did not take away any ounce of flippancy throughout the entire article. As a student of museum studies, the process of decolonising history was discussed in lectures and addressed frequently in assignments. Nevertheless, it was still hard to read it, especially when I was brought into perspective that such words of discrimination took place not so long ago. Noteworthily, it is highly possible that Facts is never read or inspected, for the pages were printed upside-down on one single big sheet of paper, which was not cut open.
It is unclear whether Tennant supported slavery or not, yet he was the mineralogist who served Queen Victoria. Mining for valuable metal (gold and silver) and precious gemstones overseas was one major way to amass vast fortunes for the British Empire. A great number of businesses were set up in Cape Town and India, and many wrote articles to be published in magazines of various societies to encourage more investors, which was the background of Facts. Blood diamond, a term coined in the 1990s by the UN (Britannica, 2016), had a longer history if colonial time is counted, and the insatiable imperial drive to harvest more and more gold and diamond is to be compared to the consumerism seen in high-end boutiques. Tennant being the superintendent of the recutting of the Koh-i-Noor (Mountain of Light) is a related footnote that accompanies the loot of the Empire².
From a museological perspective, the fossil book and the cabinet of minerals could be both seen as a miniature of museums, or a Wunderkammer (cabinet of curiosities). The physical quality of a box and a chest has also made them ideal as teaching materials, as Margócsy (2022) pointed out that the fossil book could arguably be “a three-dimensional educational enhancement tool”. Another Whipple’s collection of a cabinet of minerals made by Tennant (Wh. 3395) was purchased by Samuel Paynter, a rector passionate about nature and its example as God’s creation³. As the last part of “Collecting the Nation”, I included two kits from Things of Science to present a tiny aspect of haptic exploration in science education and museums.
Things of Science did not solely focus on geology and mineralogy, yet the concept — a monthly subscription of a small kit, in which receivers could handle real objects and learn from the accompanied booklet — showed that a portable cabinet of curiosities, or rather, a teaching tool, extended its origin in the 16th century and reached the modern post-pandemic era. During lockdown, the worksheets that could be downloaded and used by stay-at-home children were an alternative, yet even the best internet connection failed to provide the real-time, fingers-running-through experience of touching. Geology being a discipline that heavily relies on all sensory detection requires its viewers and researchers to participate with the same approach. Things of Science existed to bring the unique tactile learning to the subscribers during the 1940s till the 1960s, as if the Czech users of Frič’s fossil book and the owner of Tennant’s cabinet of minerals.
For most geological specimens, their history began in the middle of time, during which they slept and rested until they were dug out of the vast and endless landscape. The study of rocks and gemstones, though is related to other various disciplines in the grand family of earth science, is seldom connected with the humanities and history. The possibility that stones could be viewed, cared, and handled mostly is deemed a past activity, as gentry and ladies engaged in salons while having polite talks, or as our ancestors who revered witch stones as amulets. As Lee-Chalk (2011, p. 18) wrote, “because such objects are valued first and foremost as functional scientific specimens — it was never intended that they should become expressions of culture.” However, quite the contrary, most objects of history of science are expressions of culture. Items selected for “Collecting the Nation” embody the popular values at their time, and when they are handled, being turned over in palms or preached upon young children, ideas attached are spread widely.
It is a great honour to put three sets of distinctive collections together and present a lesser-known side of geology at the Whipple Museum. Nationalism and colonialism being two common topics in the fields of museum studies are now seen to be linked more and more often to scientific progress. “Collecting the Nation” is an example for its viewers to think about landscape, nature, and nations.
¹ Utilising geology and geography as tools to reinforce the control of an empire was not limited to the Czechs during the 19th century. Klemun (2012) wrote a chapter, entitled National ‘Consensus’ As Culture and Practice: The Geological Survey in Vienna and the Habsburg Empire (1849–1867), about the geological survey conducted by the Habsburg Crown to reassure the territory of state control.
² The travelogy and biography of the Koh-i-Noor, including discussions regarding the submission of colonies, feminising, and materialising the diamond, can be read in Koh-i-Noor: Empire, Diamonds, and the Performance of British Material Culture, by Kinsey (2012), Cambridge University Press, UK, and Romancing the Stone: Victoria, Albert, and the Koh-i-Noor Diamond, by Shah (2017), Bard Graduate Center, New York.
³ Saad, “A Casket of Useful Knowledge: Study of a case of geological specimens in the Whipple Museum (№3995) [sic]”. Student dissertation. Paper copy stored at the Whipple Museum archive.
References
Britannica (2016) Blood Diamond. Available at: https://www.britannica.com/topic/blood-diamond (Accessed: 26 September 2022)
Lee Chalk, H. (2011) “Romancing the stones: Earth science objects as material culture” in Dudley, S. et al. (eds.) The Thing about Museums: Objects and Experience, Representation and Contestation. Routledge: UK, pp. 18–30.
Margócsy, D. (2022) “Fossil collection, displayed in a book-shaped box,by Václav Fric, Austro-Hungarian, c. 1870” in Materials for the History of Science: A Whipple Museum Festschrift to Celebrate the Directorship of Professor Liba Taub. Available at: http://www.sites.hps.cam.ac.uk/festschrift/taub.pdf (Accessed: 26 September 2022) pp. 128–131.
Štrbáňová, S. (2012) “Patriotism, Nationalism and Internationalism in Czech Science: Chemists in the Czech National Revival” in Ash, M. J. and Surman, J. (eds.) The Nationalization of Scientific Knowledge in the Habsburg Empire, 1848–1918. Palgrave Macmillan: UK, pp. 803–905.
