Oh man. This was mighty powerful to read, and so intricately and effectively written.
Reading Jarman, reading about Jarman, looking at pictures of Prospect Cottage - both in his time and since - is poignant and exciting at the same time. His particular quality of creativity continues to speak, however it may be cloaked in the turmoil and maelstrom of that AIDS period.
Somewhere else recently on Substack there was an upbeat Note about the current completely different HIV and AIDS scene; bittersweet, as I remember Julian, Michael, Ricky, Kelvin, Chris, Ian, Nigel.
I think we have to think about death, have to write about it in the way you have here. And, wherever possible, we have to garden to bring labour and thought and vision and inspiration to make beauty.
This means the world to me, Nicolas. Thank you. I agree re Jarman's creativity. His garden is, among other things, a sculpture garden but not in any way it has been seen before or since. In a world where it seems every idea has been had before it is a true revelation.
It's unbearable to think of the generation of talent that was wiped out by HIV/AIDs, including Julian, Michael, Ricky, Kelvin, Chris, Ian, Nigel. What art and laughter and love have we (and they) missed out on as a result? And what would the continent of Africa be now had it not been decimated by it for so long? So much is owed to the scientists who work in anonymity to keep us safe and well.
I'm going to quote you in a future post, because you're exactly right: "We have to garden to bring labour and thought and vision and inspiration to make beauty".
PS. I one of those coincidences life - and reading - produce, I was reading Peter Conrad’s review of Edmund White’s (a writer I admire very much) new book The Loves of My Life: A Sex Memoir in yesterday’s Observer Review this afternoon.
In his review, Conrad writes the following which, for me, echoed something of the sense of your initial post and my reply:
“Like Proust, he (White) believes that memory can reawaken the dead. A lover from 60 years ago, now no more than a ‘faint neural scratch’ on Whtie’s brain, is brought back to the present by another of his verbal spells. The words act like ‘an electrode stimulating the right neurons’ to retrieve Jim, who stands before him as a shimmering hologram, still equipped with his unforgettably ‘big curved penis’”.
I think that’s rather beautiful; and too germane to your post not to let you know.
Ok, well I love this and I now need to read both the White memoir and the Conrad piece! People worry about legacy too much, when all that we really leave behind is one (or maximum two) generations and their memory of us. And maybe, if we're really lucky, something we've written to resonated enough to be recorded somewhere.
Powerful piece. I love the Dungeness landscape - visited as a child on a school trip when I was equipped with my first camera, then again to photograph the power station and to do some botanising. It was until my last visit that I managed to pull myself away from the wild landscape to view Prospect Cottage
I'm ashamed to say, Sally, that I've only been once and didn't visited Prospect Cottage. But then I wasn't a gardener at the time. I'll definitely plan to go later this year. I also really want to watch Jarman's films having read the book.
Beautiful. I always used to think that dying in the summer would be so sad because of all the loveliness and how difficult it would be to die and to miss it all. But now I see it would be perfect and, ideally, like drowsing in my hammock slung between the linden trees, with hoopoes foraging beneath and honeybees swarming above.
Yes exactly, Susie. Exactly. "Drowsing" is such a beautiful word and that's exactly it. I think just dozing off, slightly sun-drunk, into oblivion to the gentle sound of bees would be ideal. I had to look up hoopoes on YouTube but agree that it would be a welcome addition to the soundtrack. Soothing.
Loved this. As someone with a small(ish) house and a big(ish) garden, I can honestly say it's everything you dream of. Mind you, as a skint freelancer, I had to move to Bulgaria to achieve it!
Oh I am SO GLAD to have my theory proved. And please tell me everything about gardening in Bulgaria. I have an absurd notion that I'd like to move to a new country every five years and make a garden so as to experience as many kinds of garden as possible...
Well, I've never gardened anywhere else (lived in flats in the UK), but gardening here is fun. We're blessed with short, dry and cold winters, long, hot and dry summers, with a big rainy/stormy (sometimes garden-flatteningly stormy) season around May/June. So it has its challenges! But I love the drama of the different seasons. Plus, it's an ideal climate for growing juicy tomatoes the size a child's head, aubergines, peppers, corn and giant sunflowers. It's pretty magical.
Sounds like a gap in the market to me!! And is one of the benefits of your big(ish) garden that you have a greenhouse? I love growing from seed but such a pain with no room for all the bumf
It sounds glorious! Do you have any luck with roses? And is it easy to find the plants you want? That’s one of my things are gardening elsewhere than here. We’re very spoiled when it comes to the breadth and talent of our nurserymen. But no reason that shouldn’t be true everywhere!
Yeah, roses do well here. They're tough enough to take the summers and winters. Boy, do I miss UK garden centres, though. We have a small but decent nursery about 25 miles away, and more options in the capital Sofia. Otherwise, we're reliant on buying plants at the major DIY shops in Sofia. Basically, I grow a lot from seed! What I wouldn't give for a garden centre where I can buy seeds, plants, tools, wellies, jam, pond stuff, and a bit of cake all in one place!
Oh man. This was mighty powerful to read, and so intricately and effectively written.
Reading Jarman, reading about Jarman, looking at pictures of Prospect Cottage - both in his time and since - is poignant and exciting at the same time. His particular quality of creativity continues to speak, however it may be cloaked in the turmoil and maelstrom of that AIDS period.
Somewhere else recently on Substack there was an upbeat Note about the current completely different HIV and AIDS scene; bittersweet, as I remember Julian, Michael, Ricky, Kelvin, Chris, Ian, Nigel.
I think we have to think about death, have to write about it in the way you have here. And, wherever possible, we have to garden to bring labour and thought and vision and inspiration to make beauty.
Loved this piece very much, man.
This means the world to me, Nicolas. Thank you. I agree re Jarman's creativity. His garden is, among other things, a sculpture garden but not in any way it has been seen before or since. In a world where it seems every idea has been had before it is a true revelation.
It's unbearable to think of the generation of talent that was wiped out by HIV/AIDs, including Julian, Michael, Ricky, Kelvin, Chris, Ian, Nigel. What art and laughter and love have we (and they) missed out on as a result? And what would the continent of Africa be now had it not been decimated by it for so long? So much is owed to the scientists who work in anonymity to keep us safe and well.
I'm going to quote you in a future post, because you're exactly right: "We have to garden to bring labour and thought and vision and inspiration to make beauty".
Man, I’m very touched by your reply.
PS. I one of those coincidences life - and reading - produce, I was reading Peter Conrad’s review of Edmund White’s (a writer I admire very much) new book The Loves of My Life: A Sex Memoir in yesterday’s Observer Review this afternoon.
In his review, Conrad writes the following which, for me, echoed something of the sense of your initial post and my reply:
“Like Proust, he (White) believes that memory can reawaken the dead. A lover from 60 years ago, now no more than a ‘faint neural scratch’ on Whtie’s brain, is brought back to the present by another of his verbal spells. The words act like ‘an electrode stimulating the right neurons’ to retrieve Jim, who stands before him as a shimmering hologram, still equipped with his unforgettably ‘big curved penis’”.
I think that’s rather beautiful; and too germane to your post not to let you know.
Ok, well I love this and I now need to read both the White memoir and the Conrad piece! People worry about legacy too much, when all that we really leave behind is one (or maximum two) generations and their memory of us. And maybe, if we're really lucky, something we've written to resonated enough to be recorded somewhere.
Love this. I’m with you on dreaming of a small house surrounded by a big garden, they exist only in my dreams, but we can dream hey?
Oh, we can and we will and we do. 💭
Powerful piece. I love the Dungeness landscape - visited as a child on a school trip when I was equipped with my first camera, then again to photograph the power station and to do some botanising. It was until my last visit that I managed to pull myself away from the wild landscape to view Prospect Cottage
I'm ashamed to say, Sally, that I've only been once and didn't visited Prospect Cottage. But then I wasn't a gardener at the time. I'll definitely plan to go later this year. I also really want to watch Jarman's films having read the book.
Beautiful. I always used to think that dying in the summer would be so sad because of all the loveliness and how difficult it would be to die and to miss it all. But now I see it would be perfect and, ideally, like drowsing in my hammock slung between the linden trees, with hoopoes foraging beneath and honeybees swarming above.
Yes exactly, Susie. Exactly. "Drowsing" is such a beautiful word and that's exactly it. I think just dozing off, slightly sun-drunk, into oblivion to the gentle sound of bees would be ideal. I had to look up hoopoes on YouTube but agree that it would be a welcome addition to the soundtrack. Soothing.
Loved this. As someone with a small(ish) house and a big(ish) garden, I can honestly say it's everything you dream of. Mind you, as a skint freelancer, I had to move to Bulgaria to achieve it!
Oh I am SO GLAD to have my theory proved. And please tell me everything about gardening in Bulgaria. I have an absurd notion that I'd like to move to a new country every five years and make a garden so as to experience as many kinds of garden as possible...
Well, I've never gardened anywhere else (lived in flats in the UK), but gardening here is fun. We're blessed with short, dry and cold winters, long, hot and dry summers, with a big rainy/stormy (sometimes garden-flatteningly stormy) season around May/June. So it has its challenges! But I love the drama of the different seasons. Plus, it's an ideal climate for growing juicy tomatoes the size a child's head, aubergines, peppers, corn and giant sunflowers. It's pretty magical.
Sounds like a gap in the market to me!! And is one of the benefits of your big(ish) garden that you have a greenhouse? I love growing from seed but such a pain with no room for all the bumf
We do indeed. It's 7 metres long and built from reclaimed windows! One of the many benefits of a big garden.
WOW I am jealous. 7m!!!
We got carried away...
It sounds glorious! Do you have any luck with roses? And is it easy to find the plants you want? That’s one of my things are gardening elsewhere than here. We’re very spoiled when it comes to the breadth and talent of our nurserymen. But no reason that shouldn’t be true everywhere!
Yeah, roses do well here. They're tough enough to take the summers and winters. Boy, do I miss UK garden centres, though. We have a small but decent nursery about 25 miles away, and more options in the capital Sofia. Otherwise, we're reliant on buying plants at the major DIY shops in Sofia. Basically, I grow a lot from seed! What I wouldn't give for a garden centre where I can buy seeds, plants, tools, wellies, jam, pond stuff, and a bit of cake all in one place!
#waif-like
#wizen
#wise
#DeadGirlChic
“The posthumous combo Nobel-winning writer, Gold Medal all categories RHS Chelsea Garden Show weighed in at 5 ounces post-cremation.”
I can never read that word as anything but 'posthummus'.
Live your best darn Mary Reynolds life, people.
SpecTACular.
WOW! What a read. Thank you!
Thank you so much, Lucy x