Abstract
In a period when academic endeavour is often characterised by a rapid turnover of projects and publications, reading the slow and careful work of archival research is always a pleasure. Yet, even out of this institutional context, the sheer depth and meticulousness of the research that has gone into Ferretti’s book is impressive. This text is situated in the midst of multiple globalisations – of colonialism, transnational radicalism and the expansion of the publishing industry – that shaped the tumultuous period between the mid-19th century and World War 1. In the midst of these globalisations, two anarchist geographers stood in defiance of the prevailing order: Elisee Reclus and Pëtr Kropotkin. Using the interwoven stories of these two men – and their various networks within anarchist politics and geographic study – Ferretti seeks to revisit this period in European intellectual and political history.
Drawing on previously unpublished archives of correspondence between Reclus, Kropotkin and their scholarly and activist networks, it quickly becomes clear how engaged these two geographers were in wider debates about the nature of geography, even operating on relatively friendly terms with those we might consider their adversaries, such as Thomas Huxley and Halford Mackinder. Their position – especially in the case of Kropotkin – as respected scientists, editors and popular authors, allowed them to undertake their radical politics relatively freely, despite obvious ideological differences with elements of the wider community of geographers.
Central to Ferretti’s arguments is a foregrounding of what he refers to as ‘alternative geographical traditions’ (p. 2), arguing that Reclus and Kropotkin are an indication that geography has always incorporated these alternative traditions, contrary to some established accounts of the discipline’s (often murky) past. While the traditions that these two men drew on were geographically diverse, Ferretti is also sensitive to their own geographies of exile, whereby particular cities and states (especially the United Kingdom, Ireland and Switzerland) were key nodes in facilitating the spread of their more ‘humanistic’ visions of geography. As both scholars and activists, Reclus and Kropotkin were also embedded in two very different worlds, and this interstitial form of existence proved productive for this humanistic–geographic project – both intellectually productive for their politics and scholarship and practically in terms of drawing on their scholarly status to successfully negotiate the various legal and penal regimes that confronted them.
Through accounts of debates in the working men’s clubs, town hall meetings, Royal Geographical Society correspondence and the pages of various anarchist and geographical publications, Ferretti also uses the past to reflect critically on our discipline today. It is all too easy to dismiss historical debates about colonialism or Darwinism as matters for another era, but Ferretti cleverly connects these debates to contemporary discussions on epistemology, pedagogy, posthumanism and White supremacy (among others). Some of these connections are more persuasive than others, but they are all robustly researched and jolt the reader into thinking critically about the ‘progress’ we have made as geographers over the last 100 years. This is a relatively short book, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in depth of analysis and historical knowledge. The book’s dense text and detailed excavations of arguably rather ‘niche’ points may not immediately appeal to all, nor make for an especially easy read at times, but the insights gained from the lives of Reclus, Kropotkin and their wider activist and scholarly networks can help us to reflect carefully on how we view ourselves as geographers and the times we live in today.
