Conjuring Green: Jacques Derrida's Plants.

Taking its point of departure in a childhood memory of Derrida around raising silkworms, this essay explores the urgency invoked in the same memory of 'conjuring green'. Following the polysemy of the French verb (conjurer means to 'ward off', 'cause (a spirit or ghost) to appear', 'implore', and literally, 'swear together'), the conjured green binds the child and later the writer surreptitiously to both the community and language of Islam, in which the colour green evokes the gardens of paradise, and the infinitely differentiated proliferation of plants whose anthology encroaches upon and undermines any ontology. Along the meandering lines of Derrida's meditation on the conjured, warded-off, mourned and celebrated green, the Qur'anic Muslim's joy and radiance whose roots are the same as those for 'vividness' and 'flourishing', are grafted onto Hildegard von Bingen's viriditas, the greening power or force which the German mystic Hildegard von Bingen understood as the living soul of creation; and Darwin's discovery of the movement of plans as 'circumnutation', a Derridian term avant la lettre, that captures the dynamic of plants in Derrida's Glas. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]