Favorite Garden Novels

What are your favorite garden novels?

The Memory Garden by Mary RickertI am in the middle of Mary Rickert’s The Memory Garden, a stylishly-written literary fantasy about a garden, an old woman, a foundling daughter, friendship, witches, misfits, and ghosts.

One of the main characters, Nan, an old woman, is not only raising a teenage girl, Bay, who was left on her porch as a baby, but has planted a flourishing enchanted garden.  Rumored to be a witch, she is disliked by the locals, who sometimes throw shoes into the yard.  She plants flowers in the shoes.

Rickert is a lyrical, imaginative writer:

It was because of the shoe garden that the house became locally famous, though there had always been rumors about disturbing fertile elements in the soil.  The large elm tree, for instance, was not only unaffected by the disease that killed so many in the sixties, but also thrived, branching dark shadows across the entire left side of the porch, which did not impede the vigor of blue heaven morning glory or moonflowers trained to crawl up the railings.

Charming, isn’t it?

This is a good summer novel.  Most garden novels seem to be light, don’t they?

Here is a short list of my favorite garden novels.  Please tell me yours!

Secret Garden frances hodgson burnett2.  Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden.  In this children’s classic, the cross-tempered Mary Lenox and her cousin, a spoiled invalid, Colin, develop their creativity when they plant a secret walled garden on their uncle’s estate.  (It was my favorite book when I was seven.)

The Forgotten Garden Kate Morton3.  Kate Morton’s The Forgotten Garden.  A fascinating, if rambling,  pastiche of mystery and fairy tale, The Forgotten Garden is a pop-fiction sibling of A. S. Byatt’s beautifully-written The Children’s Book. (There really are resemblances, but I won’t get into that.) In 1913 a nameless child shows up alone on a dock in Australia. She has a fairy tale book in a suitcase, but no other personal belongings. When she grows up, she learns she is adopted and investigates her identity. Interspersed are tales of another orphan, an abused girl who grows up to be a fairy-tale authoress and lives in a cottage in a secret garden. Nell’s granddaughter mysteriously inherits the cottage and finds out more secrets.

hot-house-flower Margot Berwin4.  Margot Berwin’s Hot House Flower and the Nine Plants of Desire.  In this entertaining, light first novel, which I enjoyed a few years ago, one of the characters says, “The tropics can happen anywhere, you know. They’re a state of mind.”

The narrator, Lila Nova, is a divorced, confused, clever advertising executive who stumbles into a magical world of gorgeous tropical plants. In New York, she buys a Bird of Paradise plant at a market, and finds a laundromat decorated with tropical plants and moss. When she embarks on a quest to Mexico for the legendary Nine Plants of Desire, this slightly comic-book-ish adventure is equally dominated by good and evil gardeners.

an-episode-of-sparrows Rumer Godden5.  Rumer Godden’s An Episode of Sparrows.  I’ve borrowed the description from NYRB, which reissued this a few years ago.  (The cover is from Virago.):  “Someone has dug up the private garden in the square and taken buckets of dirt, and Miss Angela Chesney of the Garden Committee is sure that a gang of boys from run-down Catford Street must be to blame. But Angela’s sister Olivia isn’t so sure. Olivia wonders why the neighborhood children—the sparrows—she sometimes watches from the window of her house —have to be locked out of the garden. Don’t they have a right to enjoy the place, too? But neither Angela nor Olivia has any idea what sent the neighborhood waif Lovejoy Mason and her few friends in search of —good, garden earth.— Still less do they imagine where their investigation of the incident will lead them—to a struggling restaurant, a bombed-out church, and at the heart of it all, a hidden garden.”

And now tell me your favorites!

Mirabile Does Literary Fiction: Michelle Huneven’s Off Course

old-fashioned woman with computerLately I have been lazy about book-blogging.

Perhaps that is because I take books seriously. And perhaps it is because I need to pretend I am writing for somebody. I might be Rosalind Russell writing for her ex-husband/editor Cary Grant in His Girl Friday.  It takes less time to jot down an essay about bicycling, or a pop critique of Dancing with the Stars, than to scrawl even a short blog entry about books.

Some of us read books, others write them. When a friend was dying of cancer, bitter and in such pain that she would no longer receive her friends, she said on the phone that her whole life had been about reading.

“Do you think that’s good enough?”

Yes, I do.

She had regrets.

But perhaps being a reader is as important as being a writer.  If a writer’s work is not loved and kept in print, the pages soon disappear.

And here is a short digression. Our favorite book was Louisa May Alcott’s An Old-Fashioned Girl.  We once had an informal two-person book group discussion of it.  Both of us identified with Polly, the  country mouse who preferred simplicity to urban fashion, and who grew up to be an impoverished music teacher; we preferred her to Jo in Little Women, whom we loved, but…were we really tomboys?  And we were sure that reading Alcott had made us better people. Alcott’s novels are about making good moral choices.   Honestly, there is a difference between those who read Alcott and those who don’t.  (Can the same be said of today’s Harry Potter fans?)

This is a catch-up piece, dedicated to my friend.  “Do it,” she would have said. Oh, and she would have had her own book blog, too.

Off Course by Michelle HunevenMichelle Huneven’s Off Course, set in the 1980s, is a literary novel about a woman who cannot finish her dissertation.  Forget the fact that I am the kind of woman who finishes everything; I completely identify with Cressida Hartley.

Cressida Hartley moved up to her parents’ mountain cabin to finish her dissertation.  She would not become one of the aging lurkers around the Econ Department who hoped for sections of Intro to teach while the tenure track shimmered eternally on the far side of two hundred pages.”

A half-tame bear periodically visits the cabins.   Cress has to clean paw marks off the windows.  Nature is terrifying and yet domestic.  The episodes with the bear, and, later, with a bear rug which molds in the trunk of Cress’s car, reminds us that there is true wildness in the wilderness.  Not  even the bear rug is manageable.

Huneven’s writing is pitch-perfect:  few novelists write such graceful, unassuming, spare prose. And it is a quieter experience to read about the ’80s; I appreciated the time off from the 21st century.   Of course Cressida is distracted, but not by email, Facebook, or cell phones.   No, she is distracted by sex.  (We all were in the ’80s.)  She has a short relationship first with Jakey, the lodge owner. After he dumps her,  she has a long-term relationship with Quinn, a married carpenter, a semi-literate mountain man.  He asks her to marry him on the phone, and says he will divorce his wife; it is then that she falls in love with him.

Never trust a married man.  (Better:  don’t have a relationship with him.)

Cressida supports the sexual revolution, but some of her friends desert her because of her adultery.  This surprises her. And we do understand their harsh judgment of Cress: she is irresponsible at times.

But near the beginning of the novel, she wonders,

Wasn’t there romance that flowered differently, that didn’t morph right into marriage, pregnancy, childrearing, and monogamy for its own sake?  What was the sexual revolution for, if not to allow for more varied experiences, a wider range of happiness?  Cress was in no hurry to re-create family life–at least as she knew it.

The years pass, and she works as a waitress, always waiting for Quinn, who is sometimes there for her, other times with his wife.  Eventually Cress realizses nothing is going to happen and returns  to writing.  .

This is a very realistic novel, beautifully-written, and fast-paced. Yes, it makes my Best Books of 2014 sidebar.

 

The Creation and Condition of Used Books

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Condtion:  Back left-hand corner and  bottom edge are curling.

My new copy of Chimanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah was crisply enticing.  I started reading it addictively:  I have perused this beautifully-written page-turner in coffeehouses, at picnic tables, and while stir-frying vegetables. It is a bit ragged after this intense reading.  The back cover’s left-hand corner and bottom edge are curling.   It is now a “good reading copy” rather than “Like New.”

When I sold my books to used bookstores as a student–a woman needed to buy tampons!–I learned to keep my books clean and neat.  I never splayed a book open, pages down.  I never ate while reading, because I learned that chocolate and tea stains brought down the price.  The best used bookstores sell such books at reduced prices.

Because I buy many used books, I am fascinated by the descriptions of the condition of used books at Amazon.  They often depend on the bookseller’s conscience.  “Acceptable” books are  usually “unacceptable” to me.  I have been known to return a “Very Good” used book because of underlinings.

Books with curls and bent covers.

Books with curls and bent covers.

Misled by reviewers or bloggers, I buy many books that are, in the language of our household, “BP (barely passable).” I donate these to book sales, thus creating used books.  I have a problem with new books.  I find 21st-century books much worse than 20th-century books.   Although most reviewers probably try to be fair, I sometimes detect a conflict of interest, or suspect that an ass-licking reviewer is trying to get “blurbed” by the writers he or she reviews.

One learns to read between the lines of reviews.  Occasionally the reviewers just seem to be odd choices for an assignment. A mediocre novel recently got a rave in The New York Times Book Review. Then I noticed the reviewer was a science writer. Why should I be interested in a science writer’s opinion of a novel?

The problem with the publishing of so many mediocre books is that they create a mistrust of new books.

Today in The Des Moines Register, which is more or less Iowa’s state newspaper, I read a profile of Paul Ingram, a bookseller at Prairie Lights in Iowa City.  He is well-known for recommending books to customers.  He says,

It’s tougher nowadays because what they are publishing is worse. Publishers need to be conservative so they don’t want to try anything different. I have five or six zombie books come in and I hate it. I can’t bear it, yet my customers want it. I ended up buying them all because I can’t tell the difference.”

Margaret Drabble told The Telegraph in 2012,

I have had a weird feeling that I’m being dumbed down by my publishers and it’s interesting there’s an agenda of how it should be in the marketplace.”

If even Margaret Drabble feels she’s being dumbed down, we know the publishing industry is in trouble.  The used book industry flourishes, though.