{ "export": { "source": "https://urth.darkrealm.vip/thread/urth/1713", "note": "Exported from an unofficial mirror of a public mailing list. Copyright in each message remains with the person who wrote it. Email addresses are obscured as `user at host`, the form the original archive published. This file was rebuilt from parsed fields rather than retained headers, so it is faithful in content but not byte-exact.", "addresses": "obscured as 'user at host'" }, "archive": "urth", "thread": { "id": 1713, "subject": "Flowers", "messages": 6, "voices": 5, "first": "1999-07-17T10:05:09+00:00", "last": "1999-07-22T21:45:08+00:00" }, "messages": [ { "message_id": "", "from": { "name": "Roy C. Lackey", "address": "rclackey at stic.net" }, "date": "1999-07-17T10:05:09+00:00", "subject": "(urth) Flowers", "in_reply_to": null, "reply_link": null, "blocks": [ { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "Some time ago I mentioned posting something about florigraphy in\nthe Urth Cycle. What follows is not what I originally intended to write\nabout--the message Wolfe intended to convey by the three flowers placed on\nthe graves of Sev and his fellow \"gods\" at the very end of URTH. Instead,\nI will here concentrate on the subject as it pertains to Dorcas, which is\nmore extensive. There are dozens of references to flowers in the five\nbooks, and much more could be written on the subject, but if it has been\ndone I am not aware of it\n\nFlorigraphy is the language of flowers. While particular flowers\nhave long been associated with particular human sentiments, e.g. roses\nwith love, in recent centuries those simple associations evolved into a\nmore complex \"language\", whereby fairly sophisticated messages could be\nexchanged solely with floral arrangements. The choice of flowers, the\nparticular orientation of them, time and method of delivery, etc., all\ncombined to convey a message, usually, but not necessarily, romantic in\nnature. Florigraphy reached the apex of its popularity during the\nVictorian era, and entire books were devoted to the subject. \n\nI do not claim that Wolfe researched the subject that extensively,\nor know what sources he used, but that he has some knowledge of it is\ncertain. Doubters have only to read a single paragraph in chapter 2, p.\n51, of CALDE to satisfy themselves. Readers of Wolfe will have noted the\nmention of roses in nearly everything he has written, (his wife, of\ncourse, is named Rosemary) and the Urth cycle is no exception, but many\nother flowers are mentioned as well. As is the case for mythological\nauthorities, any two given sources for the meaning(s) of particular\nflowers will not necessarily agree in all the particulars. Also, the\nmeaning given to the same flower sometimes changed over the course of\ntime, so that there cannot often be definitive answers. This makes the\ntask of deciphering Wolfe's intentions all the harder, but that's typical.\nThe problem is further complicated when he names a flower in a given\ncontext but neglects to mention the color of it. Any given flower, e.g. a\ndaisy, may have a generic meaning, but another meaning if of a certain\ncolor, still another if it is a subvariety. \n\nFrom her first appearance in the NEW SUN to her last, Dorcas is\nsending a series of signals with the flowers she puts in her hair. Most of\nthese signals, whether sent consciously or unconsciously, have to do with\nSev, but he, of course, is oblivious. I can only conclude that Wolfe\nintended the reader to decipher them for themselves. \n\n1) When Dorcas, Agia, and Sev are being rowed across the Lake of\nBirds (I, XXIV) by Hildegrin, Dorcas plucks a blue water hyacinth from the\nsurface of the lake--a place where flowers do not exist--and places it in\nher hair. The water hyacinth is most often associated with \"constancy\".\nThe chapter title \"The Flower of Dissolution\" refers, of course, to the\navern he is there to pluck. The water hyacinth is mentioned in the first\nline of the chapter; the avern in the last. The avern represents the\ndissolution of death, obviously, and is presented in contrast to the water\nhyacinth. While Sev is speculating about where the hyacinth came from his\nthoughts turn religious, noting the contrast of life and death, light and\ndark, order and chaos, etc., concluding, to state it simply, that the\nnegative halves of these pairs of opposites is where God isn't. \n\nI am aware of the use of the hyacinth in T. S. Eliot's \"The Waste\nLand\" as a symbol of resurrection, which would fit perfectly in this\ncontext, and Wolfe well may have had this poem in mind when he wrote this\nscene, but in the sources on florigraphy that I have seen, resurrection is\nnot the meaning assigned to the hyacinth. While the language of flowers\nand the symbolic use of flowers certainly overlap, they are not entirely\ncongruent, and I make no pretense of being an authority on the subject. \n\n2) On the day after the contest at the Sanguinary Field, after\nSev's visit with Agia and Agilus in the latter's cell, Sev arranges for\ntemporary quarters for the night for himself and Dorcas. The couple then\ngoes for a walk. (I, XXX) \"Dorcas had found a daisy for her hair; but as\nwe walked about outside the walls ... it folded its petals in sleep, and\nshe plucked instead one of those white, trumpet-shaped blossoms that are\ncalled moonflowers.\". They soon return to their room to make love for the\nfirst time. It is unclear from the text where Dorcas obtained the daisy\n(yes, it matters), and its color is not specified. The meaning of the\ngeneric daisy is \"innocence\"; the same for the white daisy. Since they\nwere at a military compound, it seems safe to disregard the garden daisy.\nThe wild, or single field daisy, however, means \"I will think of it\".\nEither of these two meanings could apply to Dorcas. She has a child-like\ninnocence and is struggling to recall her past. The change of flowers is\nsignificant and has a clearer meaning. \n\nThe moonflower is the common name for a member of the twining or\ncreeping plants, such as the morning glory, which are part of the family\ncalled ipomoea. The meaning given to ipomoea is \"attachment; I attach\nmyself to you\". In context, the meaning is clear enough, both literally\nand figuratively. \n\n3) After escaping from the antechamber Sev rejoined the thespian\ngroup. An interesting side note is that, when he found the group, Dr.\nTalos was striking the heads from flowers with his cane, just as he did\nthe night, near the end of SHADOW, when Sev and Dorcas came upon his\nencampment, the same night that the eidolons Malrubius and Triskele\nappeared to him. Make of that what you will. At any rate, after a nap, Sev\nand Dorcas wandered away onto the grounds of the House Absolute to be\nalone and talk. (II, XXII) They passed through a grove of plum trees in\nbloom, and Dorcas put a twig of the white blossoms into her hair. Sev\ndraws the distinction between the plum trees he and Jonas passed through\non the way to the antechamber, which he judged to have been planted for\nornamentation, and those he and Dorcas passed through, which he thought\nhad been planted for the fruit. The distinction would be absolutely\npointless but for the difference in the meaning attached to them. The wild\nplum tree means \"independence\", but the generic plum tree (presumably\ndomesticated, cultivated for the fruit) means \"keep your promise\" or\n\"genius\". \n\nGenius is not a term that can be associated with Sev, and probably\nnot with Dorcas. If we are to assume that Dorcas is the author of the\nmessages being sent via the flowers, then the interpretation of their\nmeaning would not be the same as their interpretation if Wolfe is sending\na signal to the reader. Sev has made no explicit promise to her that he\nmust keep, although he will shortly break faith with her by ravishing\nJolenta. She doesn't know that, though she must see the potential. Her\ntortured dreams and returning memories of her life before her death may be\nreawakening promises made to her husband and family. \n\nNear the bench where they are sitting in a long-forgotten garden\nare a few beds of simple flowers and herbs--\"rosemary, angelica, mint,\nbasil, and rue\", meaning, respectively, \"remembrance\", \"inspiration\",\n\"virtue\", \"hatred (or \"give me your good wishes\")\", and \"disdain\". [N1]\n\n4) In Thrax, on the morning of the last day of her life with Sev,\nDorcas cut her hair short and left their rooms after putting a white peony\nin her hair. (III, II) There are several meanings for the white peony: \n\"anger\", \"bashfulness\", \"shame\". Anger and shame are both indicated here.\nThe book opens with Dorcas-- who fears and avoids water--recounting\nstanding under a waterfall in the women's bath, trying to wash the stench\nof the prison tunnels out of her hair. She is angry with the women she\nheard talking about her, the paramour of a torturer, and the things they\nsay about Sev. She is also angry with Sev, because she realizes what the\nwomen are saying is true. She feels shame for herself for putting up with\nit, for going to bed in a room atop those very tunnels. While listening to\nDorcas air her feelings (III, I), Sev likens the yellow lights of the city\nbelow to a jonquil. The jonquil means \"I desire a return of affection\".\nTough luck. \n\n5) When Sev last sees Dorcas, it is in the ruins of lower Nessus.\nTraveling up the Gyoll aboard the _Samru_, Sev spies \"...a little boat,\nnewly built, tied to an ancient pier.\" What follows is either an\nabsolutely astonishing act of intuition or the one instance in the entire\nUrth Cycle when slow-witted Sev is smarter than the reader. He asks to be\nput ashore alongside the boat, and there reveals what else he saw from the\ndeck of the ship; \"...a wilted scarlet poppy left lying on the single\nseat.\" (IV, XXXII). By means inexplicable, he finds his way to the\nlong-deserted shop where Dorcas had lived with her husband and child.\n\"Perhaps it was no more than the perfume of the blossom she wore, because\nwhen I saw her she had an arum, freckled white and sweet as Dorcas herself\nhad always been, thrust into her hair. No doubt she had brought it there\nfor that purpose, and had taken out the wilted poppy and cast it down when\nshe had tied up her boat.\" What purpose? As the text reads, it means the\npurpose of guiding him to her in the shop via the scent of the arum. Yet\nthere is no way for her to know or even suspect that Sev is anywhere near\nNessus. He enters the rear of the shop through \"a narrow door hidden under\nivy\". The ivy vine means \"matrimony, marriage\". Inside, with her back to\nhim, she is kneeling before a bier on which is the dead body of the old\nboatman, her former husband. Beside her is a basket \"not small yet not\nlarge either\". \n\nThere are several other things very wrong with this scene. When,\nwhere, and how did the boatman die? The shop is more than two full days\nand nights of travel by the _Samru_ from the Citadel. Did delicate little\nDorcas--who is mortally afraid of water--not only buy a new boat, but also\nnavigate it down the Gyoll to her old home? I don't think so. Why was she\nthere at all? How did the old man's body come to be on a bier on the\nsecond floor of the shop? Did little Dorcas put it there? I don't think\nso. Sev specifically states that the reason he didn't speak to her was\nthat she had just arrived. She is quite a busy girl. He also says that her\nhair \"...was the same--unchanged since I had seen her first in the Garden\nof Endless Sleep.\" Nonsense. She cut her hair so short in Thrax that \"she\nalmost seemed a boy\". From the time Sev left Thrax until that moment,\nperhaps two or three months had passed. Hair doesn't grow that fast. And\nif there is a baby in that basket, then someone has been playing in the\nCorridors of Time. \n\nThe generic meaning of a poppy, or of a red poppy, is\n\"consolation\", but that of a scarlet poppy is \"fantastic extravagance\". I\ndon't know if Sev can tell the difference between red and scarlet. If\ntaken literally, fantastic extravagance may refer to the expense of the\n\"newly built\" boat, a boat she will have little more use for. The arum has\ntwo meanings, \"ardor\" and \"ferocity and deceit\".[N2] I think the first of\nthose meanings can be dismissed, given her circumstances. The spotted arum\nmeans both \"ardor\" and \"great warmth\". As for \"ferocity and deceit\", that\ndepends on exactly what has been going on. There are lingering questions\nabout exactly how she came to be in the Lake of Birds, but more and more\nof her memories had been coming back even before she left Sev. She may\nhave remembered how she got there, which may relate to the old boatman's\ntimely demise. Recall that in the same conversation that Sev and Dorcas\nhad in the gardens of the House Absolute that I mentioned above, Dorcas\nobjected to Dr. Talos having labeled Sev as Death, that he wasn't really\nlike that. Sev called it a metaphor, and Dorcas said it was a bad\nmetaphor. In the last paragraph of that chapter Sev wrote: \"...it occurred\nto me to wonder whether Dr. Talos's calling Dorcas \"Innocence\" had not\nbeen a metaphor of the same kind.\" \n\nDetermining what Wolfe intended in this enigmatic scene remains\ndifficult, even with the added gloss of the flower language. \n\nThe meanings given to the flowers that I have related here have\nbeen largely gleaned from various internet sites devoted to the subject,\nso anyone interested has access to the same resources. If anyone here has\nmore knowledge of the subject than I, speak up. \n\n[N1] \"...twined lupine, purple loosestrife, and white meadow rue.\" are the\nwildflowers that deck the bowers of Sev and his fellow gods. Lupine (very\nWolfean) means \"voraciousness; inspiration; dejection\". Loosestrife\n(lysimachia vulgaris) means \"pretension\". Lysimachia is Greek for \"ending\nstrife\". Purple loosestrife (lythrum salicaria) derives its color from\nlythrum, a word from the Greek \"lythron\", meaning \"blood\". I don't know if\nthe qualifiers \"white\" and \"meadow\" charge the meaning of white meadow rue\n(thalictrum aquilegiifolium 'album') with any meaning beyond the typical\nmeaning for rue of \"disdain\". \n\n[N2] Dragonwort is another name for the common arum, as is wake-robin and\nsnakeweed. Dragonwort means \"horror\" (as does mandrake) in the language of\nflowers. It is mentioned in the OED that those who carry the leaves and\nroots of the dragonwort are protected against vipers and serpents. In\nchapter XXVII of CLAW Dorcas likened the stream that she, Sev, and Jolenta\ncamped beside to a big snake. Given her fear of water, she may have\ncarried the arum in the boat with her down the Gyoll to ameliorate her\nfear of the river. \n\nRoy" } ] }, { "message_id": "", "from": { "name": "Tony Ellis", "address": "tony.ellis at futurenet.co.uk" }, "date": "1999-07-19T09:56:27+00:00", "subject": "(urth) re: Flowers", "in_reply_to": "", "reply_link": "subject", "blocks": [ { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "What a fascinating article, Roy!\n\nI hadn't even finished it when I started thinking of the \"sprawling\nangel's trumpets\" which are the very last words of The Fifth Head of\nCerberus. They work on various levels, of course, including a\nsymbolic link to the silver trumpet vine of the opening paragraphs,\nbut now I'm curious as to what (if any) meaning they have in\nflorigraphy.\n\nWhat do you sources say, Roy?" } ] }, { "message_id": "", "from": { "name": "Alice Turner", "address": "akt at ibm.net" }, "date": "1999-07-20T07:32:38+00:00", "subject": "(urth) Flowers", "in_reply_to": "", "reply_link": "subject", "blocks": [ { "kind": "quote", "depth": 1, "text": "From: \"Tony Ellis\" \nWhat a fascinating article, Roy!\n\nI hadn't even finished it when I started thinking of the \"sprawling\nangel's trumpets\" which are the very last words of The Fifth Head of\nCerberus. They work on various levels, of course, including a\nsymbolic link to the silver trumpet vine of the opening paragraphs,\nbut now I'm curious as to what (if any) meaning they have in\nflorigraphy." }, { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "From Wyman's Gardening Encyclopedia:\n\nAngel's Trumpet = Brugmansia\n\nThe leaves and seeds of this Peruvian plant are poisonous. Sometimes grown\nas an ornamental for its large, white, solitary, trumpet-shaped flowers, 10\"\nlong. These have a musky odor, open at night, and have 5 twisted segments in\nthe corolla. The large grayish-green leaves are 8\" long, thick, velvety and\nare borne in pairs; one is a third shorter than the other.\n\n-alga" } ] }, { "message_id": "", "from": { "name": "Alice Turner", "address": "akt at ibm.net" }, "date": "1999-07-21T23:27:27+00:00", "subject": "(urth) Flowers", "in_reply_to": "", "reply_link": "subject", "blocks": [ { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "Apologies if this and the next one get repeated. I sent them both yesterday,\nbut, as Ranjit has cause to know, my newish ISP seems temperamentally\nallergic to the urth list, and they seem never to have arrived.\n-------\nRoy has been so inspirational! Looking at his essay, I began to wonder if\nthis little herb garden on the House Absolute grounds might be the relic of\na Shakespeare garden, though of course no one would recognize it as such.\n(The non-gardeners among you should know that Shakespeare gardens are a\ngreat favorite with literate sentimental gardeners--I would have one if I\nhad more room and more sun.) Most of you probably think of Ophelia, or\nperhaps of Titania's bower---and \"Love's Labour's Lost\" has a very pretty\ngarden song--but actually the great Shakespearean garden scene is Act IV\nScene 4 of \"The Winter's Tale,\" when we first meet Perdita, the young\nprincess who has been brought up, all unknowing, as a shepherd's daughter.\nPerdita (\"lost girl\") has rosemary, rue and mint in her garden, together\nwith daisies and many other flowers. But no angelica and no basil. Hmm, I\nthough, let's have a look at these plants." }, { "kind": "quote", "depth": 1, "text": "Near the bench where they are sitting in a long-forgotten garden\nare a few beds of simple flowers and herbs--\"rosemary, angelica, mint,\nbasil, and rue\", meaning, respectively, \"remembrance\", \"inspiration\",\n\"virtue\", \"hatred (or \"give me your good wishes\")\", and \"disdain\". [N1]" }, { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "Angelica (also dwarf gentian) is an aromatic herb, white, greenish or\npurple, a good fish flavoring, not unlike celery. This could be savory, a\nrather vague term that applies to several species of plants. Or it could be\nmarjoram. Or even fennel. Perdita has them all in her garden. All are far\nmore familiar to the cook (that's me) than angelica. It used to be candied,\napparently, several centuries ago--it certainly goes back to Shakespeare's\ntime.\n\nBasil: This is a toughie. By name it goes back to the 15th c. (OED), well\nbefore Shakespeare. Why wouldn't he mention it? Well, it was somewhat\nloosely used for some forms of thyme, and vice versa. That could be it.\n\n(I realize I am opening myself to attack by Borski. but it's too interesting\nnot to pursue.)\n\nOkay, I leave you with this. At the beginning of the act, 15-year-old\nPerdita, whom we have just met, surrounded by shepherdesses and Autolycus\n(king of thieves, yes, you Xenites, the very one), greet not only Prince\nFlorizel but a lord of the court at the occasion of the spring\nsheep-shearing:\n\nPERDITA:\n\n You're welcome, sir.\nGive me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend sirs,\nFor you there's rosemary and rue; these keep\nSeeming and savour all the winter long.\nGrace and remembrance be to you both,\nAnd welcome to our shearing!\n\nRoses to all of you (that's from me, not Perdita),\n\n-alga" } ] }, { "message_id": "", "from": { "name": "Matthew Malthouse", "address": "matthew.malthouse at guardian.co.uk" }, "date": "1999-07-22T11:13:45+00:00", "subject": "Re: (urth) Flowers", "in_reply_to": "", "reply_link": "subject", "blocks": [ { "kind": "quote", "depth": 1, "text": "Alice Turner wrote:\nBasil: This is a toughie. By name it goes back to the 15th c. (OED), well\nbefore Shakespeare. Why wouldn't he mention it? Well, it was somewhat\nloosely used for some forms of thyme, and vice versa. That could be it." }, { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "OED:\n\nbasil1. Herb. Forms: 5 (basilicon), basile, 6\nbasyle, -yll, bazil, bassel, 6,7 basill, 6, basil.\n[a. OF. basile, ad. L. basilisca, f. basiliscus basilisk: the Gr.\nname of the plant was\n\nroyal, whence the botanical specific name basilicum, perhaps\nbecause the herb was used in some royal unguent, bath, or\nmedicine (Prior). In Lat. this seems to have been confused with\nbasiliscus, on the supposition that it was an antidote to the\nbasilisks venom: in OF., basile, basilicoq, basilique, and in\nmod.F., basilic are applied both to the serpent and the plant.]\n\nNow if basil were an antidote to the basilisk's venom anyone care to\nnominate a basilisk in Urth?\n\nMatthew" } ] }, { "message_id": "", "from": { "name": "William H. Ansley", "address": "wansley at warwick.net" }, "date": "1999-07-22T21:45:08+00:00", "subject": "Re: (urth) Flowers", "in_reply_to": "", "reply_link": "subject", "blocks": [ { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "Roy,\n\nI, too, was very impressed with your essay on the language of flowers and\nits application in the analysis of _The Book of the New Sun_. And I thank\nyou for your appreciation of my efforts in writing the Oz/Eyeflash posts.\n\nI also think you summarized the problems with the scene where Severian" }, { "kind": "quote", "depth": 1, "text": "finds Dorcus in ruined Nessus well. In part, you wrote:\n5) When Sev last sees Dorcas, it is in the ruins of lower Nessus.\nTraveling up the Gyoll aboard the _Samru_, Sev spies \"...a little boat,\nnewly built, tied to an ancient pier.\" What follows is either an\nabsolutely astonishing act of intuition or the one instance in the entire\nUrth Cycle when slow-witted Sev is smarter than the reader. He asks to be\nput ashore alongside the boat, and there reveals what else he saw from the\ndeck of the ship; \"...a wilted scarlet poppy left lying on the single\nseat.\" (IV, XXXII). By means inexplicable, he finds his way to the\nlong-deserted shop where Dorcas had lived with her husband and child.\n\"Perhaps it was no more than the perfume of the blossom she wore, because\nwhen I saw her she had an arum, freckled white and sweet as Dorcas herself\nhad always been, thrust into her hair. No doubt she had brought it there\nfor that purpose, and had taken out the wilted poppy and cast it down when\nshe had tied up her boat.\" What purpose? As the text reads, it means the\npurpose of guiding him to her in the shop via the scent of the arum. Yet\nthere is no way for her to know or even suspect that Sev is anywhere near\nNessus." }, { "kind": "text", "depth": 0, "text": "I do have an alternative to offer to your interpretation of the passage you\nquote about the poppy and the arum. I think it is also valid and removes at\nleast one of the mysteries you raise (that is, how she knew that Severian\nwas near enough to follow the scent of the arum). I don't mean to start\nanother iron man debate; I just offer my observation as an illustration of\nhow Wolfe's prose, rich in ambiguity, can be often be interpreted in\ndifferent ways.\n\nAs I read the passage, the \"purpose\" Severian alludes to is merely that she\nbrought the arum to put it in her hair as an ornament, because she knew or\nsuspected that the poppy was wilting.\n\nWilliam Ansley" } ] } ] }