GBBC Review: Dear Friend & Gardener

I first read Dear Friend & Gardener, a collection of correspondence between Christopher Lloyd and Beth Chatto, several years ago. When the Garden Bloggers' Book Club chose it for their December-January selection, I was thrilled, both at the chance to reread it and because I thought that I would have a "head start" on this month's post, having already read the book once. As my garden has expanded, and as I grew more into my own kind of gardener (whatever kind that might be) I suppose it's only natural that my reactions to this book have changed as well.

I was surprised to find that I am now familiar with some of the plants that had seemed like such exotics on my first read. But the awe factor has worn away a bit, and I am not afraid to challenge a few of the things that I have read and do not necessarily agree with. As Christo was obviously the most outspokenly opinionated of the two correspondents, you can imagine that most of the observations that raised my eyebrow were his. The major one being this:

"I confess to being unattracted to the concept of gardening with a moral implication. It puts a dampener on going all out to garden full-bloodedly in whatever way appeals to you most." (p. 15)

My inner hedonist agrees with him, and I probably thought, "Right on, Mr. Lloyd!" the first time I read that passage. Now, however, I wish that he were still around and on his way through Cleveland on a tour so that I could flag him down and have a little talk on this score. (By all counts, he seemed to enjoy provoking a good discussion, so he probably would have been delighted.)

My thoughts are enough to fill up a separate post--and I will make one, eventually--but for now I will simply say that I feel that he could simply look at drought tolerance as another one of his chosen limitations as a gardener, without blurring the focus of the finished garden being a tropical setting in a non-tropical climate.

On the other hand, I again enjoyed Christo's wit, and Beth's detailed impressions of the plants she has been noticing in her gardens. What piqued my interest more in this second read were the descriptions of plants in their native habitats, whether noted from research or observed in situ (mostly by Christo) during trips.

I confess, I probably skimmed right through these the first time... but now that I've been paying more attention to the natural origins of my plants--in the hope that I can give them a situation more to their liking in my own garden--I was intrigued.

Last, but not least, most GBBC reviewers have mentioned that they were surprised that this book was the result of planned correspondence. I was a bit taken aback by this as well initially.

But in my gut, I believe that their letters to each other wouldn't be all that much different if they had just agreed to be good about keeping in touch via letter for two years. Christo seemed to hold nothing back, as was his wont, and Beth seems to be a civil and thoughtful lady, which shined through in her letters.

It was most telling to me that at the beginning of the first read I thought of them as "Mr. Lloyd," and "Mrs. Chatto," but that now I think of them as "Christo" and "Beth" instead. And that I wish that they could come by for tea, and to take a look at my garden to give me a few helpful hints, at some time... not unlike most of the other gardeners I have met via blog, instead of via book! I look forward to rereading this again in a few years' time, and discovering what new revelations it holds once I have even more garden experience under my belt.

Pictures, from top: 1) Plectranthus argentus. I hadn't known this plant the first time I read DF&G, but I grew it in my garden this year alongside woolly thyme and bloodgrass. 2) Calendula and blueberry foliage. Some of my own self-chosen garden limitations are utility and sustainability. 3) Actaea (nee Cimicifuga) racemosa is native to Eastern US woodlands and prefers moist, heavier soil. Had I known this, I may not have moved this 'Hillside Black Beauty' bugbane from my old garden to this new, sandy, dry one. ('Anniversary' lamium behind.)