The Accidental Garden
Gardens, Wilderness and the Space In Between: SHORTLISTED FOR THE WAINWRIGHT PRIZE
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- $139.00
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- $139.00
Descripción editorial
SHORTLISTED FOR THE RICHARD JEFFRIES AWARD
A WATERSTONES BEST NATURE WRITING BOOK OF 2024 PICK
A BBC WILDLIFE BOOK OF THE YEAR 2024
'Delightful ... Mabey is the doyen of UK nature writing' New Statesman
'Both instructive and exciting, often ecstatic... Mabey is a great, pioneering nature writer' Irish Times
'Our greatest nature writer' New Scientist
We regard gardens as our personal dominions, where we can create whatever worlds we desire. But they are also occupied by myriads of other organisms, all with their own lives to lead. The conflict between these two power bases, Richard Mabey suggests, is a microcosm of what is happening in the larger world.
Rooted in the daily dramas of his own Norfolk garden, Mabey offers a different scenario, where nature becomes an equal partner, a 'gardener' itself. Against a background of disordered seasons he watches his 'accidental' garden reorganising itself. Ants sow cowslip seeds in the parched grass. Moorhens take to nesting in trees. A spectacular self-seeded rose springs up in the gravel. The garden becomes a place of cultural and ecological fusion, and perhaps a metaphor for the troubled planet.
This is vintage Mabey - maverick, intensely observed, and written with an unquenchable sense of wonder.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Journalist Mabey (Flora Britannica) explores the meadows, woods, and gardens outside his home in Norfolk, England, in this charming mosaic of plant descriptions, ecological musings, and personal reflections. In 2003, Mabey moved with his partner to a 16th-century farmhouse on two acres with the idea of taking a hands-off approach to gardening and thereby granting "a degree of self-determination to the plot and its inhabitants." Lyrical meditations ensue: Mabey offers a portrait of a landscape that proves resilient in the face of a warming world, and each habitat on his property offers its own insights, including the meadow with flowers that remind him of the Ukrainian flag and the woods that "always beckon you in." Along the way, Mabey ponders things that have preoccupied him across his career, wondering, for example, if it's ethical to celebrate beauty when climate change is destroying it and considering whether there's "a form of beauty in nature outside human taste and judgement." Mabey's descriptions are moving—in one garden bed, he endeavors to cultivate nonnative plants that remind him of his travels in the Mediterranean: "I wanted the shrubs to spread their wings, and the ground plants to set their seed. Which they duly did." Gardeners with a literary bent will be pleased.
