Reading about Meinig’s ideas about “landscape as ideology” brought me back to the class where we attempted to identify and define different types of geographers. Specifically, I recall talking about marxist geography, the relationship between place and its economic foundation. This type of place analysis is concerned with the capitalist production of space, or place being reactionary. Initially, I found this idea to be somewhat depressing, seeing ways in which the world around us is constructed through a hierarchal financial system, in which efficiency is prioritized. Yet, Meinig’s piece fleshed these ideas out in a more optimistic way. Through an ideological analysis of landscape and place, we can move past the phase of marxist geography that simply identifies the roots of space construction, and think optimistically about the potential for the future: “if we want to change the landscape in important ways we shall have to change the ideas that have created and sustained what we see” (Meinig 42). It is easy to be caught in the mind’s trap that space or place is absolute and fixed. We, as culture/community/society, have the ability to interact with the landscape in new ways. In Waterville, we can arguably see the negative effects of globalization, a capitalist mode, on space with the abandoned mill buildings along the Mesalonskee. We can simultaneously see the potential for that space to become a new place for other types of production, whether it be jobs, living space, artistic production, or anything that might contribute to the creation of a multitude of new and positive places to members of a community. This community.
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Revisiting Lobster Gangs
As we discussed last week, lobster gangs are seen by American society as aggressive, fierce competitors who create mayhem by cutting each other’s lines and shooting each other’s boats. However, in reality, these lobster gangs cooperate and share information while remaining competitive and territorial. In Acheson’s The Lobster Gangs of Maine, he mentions, “Territoriality does not exist in any other Maine fishery” (3). It is this reality, specifically ‘being territorial’, that sets the lobster gangs ahead of those who fish for other species. Conkling states, “in the late 1980s – in contrast to virtually every other fishing resource in nearshore or distant waters, which have been decreasing – reported lobster landings began to rapidly increase in Maine” (200). Even though there has been upheaval over what appears to be “feudal control [by lobster gangs] over large areas of public resources”(Conkling), they have in fact protected and successfully managed lobster populations for generations.
Ben’s comment about the Gulf of Maine being the fastest warming body of water concerns me. As climate change progresses the lobsters will move north to find colder water. The Portland Press Harold informs us that lobsters have already abandoned Long Island Sound, retreating from warming waters (Woodard). I am concerned because as lobsters move north and out of Maine’s lobster gang territories, then the lobsters will not be protected or properly managed. The lobsters will be exploited because the public, who remains uneducated on and inexperienced with lobster fishing, will have full access to the valuable species.
Economically, the lobster gangs of Maine have slowed time-space-compression by caring for their lobster farms, not allowing the lobsters to be exploited, and therefore not forcing new markets to be introduced. As the waters continue to warm, I hope lobster gang territories mobilize north so the lobster market can be sustained.
Colin Woodard — http://www.pressherald.com/2015/10/25/climate-change-imperils-gulf-maine-people-plants-species-rely/
Lobstering as a Place
The evolution of lobstering is a testament to the familial culture it creates in mid coast Maine. The family ties make community so important, while the micro-industry is slow to change because of deep tradition. New mapping and hauling technology is absent on the skiffs of young soon to be captains; parents and grandparents want their children lobster fishing the same way they did 20 or 50 years ago. The cyclical nature of lobstering families mirror the cycles of seasons; with the summer comes new fishing weather, just as it does new lineages in a lobstering family. In the same sense, older generations move on while passing their skills to younger ones, and the cycle begins again.
The harsh Maine fishing weather wears off on lobstering communities that face serious challenges with drug and alcohol abuse. On the contrary, there is a prestige and admiration held in lobstering that creates a culture and environment–a place–that is very unique and separated from outsiders. This is likely because of their own identity or understanding of place, that they embody working class “skill, courage, and tenacity” that Acheson observed. This is arguably the largest challenge that tourists face; people who come from cities with 21st century identities and cultures enter a place where ruggedness and sacrifice embody the lobsterman’s community and upbringing.
As a local who doesn’t come from a fishing family, I’ve felt removed from that timeless world on the islands and on the peninsula. Acheson describes the sea as “alien”, and I think the foreignness of the sea promulgates this separation between lobsterman and the outsider; the placelessness of the islands pushes them further from the outside. From lingo to traps to clothing to boats, the culture remains uniform over generations, while Rockland and other places undergo a search for a new identity of place. The concept that lobstering is almost paused in time, while the rest of the world evolves, is a really incredible representation of the midcoast and the identity crisis that culture creates when defining place.