A Day of Lasts--Day 68

Alas, my time here is  coming to a close. I went to Tesco for the last time today to buy groceries for the next two-and-a-half days. I did laundry here for the last time. I went to Metrogate for the last time to print my seminar paper (which I have posted here for you to read!). Sarah and I were talking last night when we went for a walk so Sarah could buy dinner (we ended up at Caffe Nero, a nice little Italian cafe with great chai lattes), and we were talking about all of the things we are going to miss about London. There is not much I have missed about the States while I have been here (apart from all of the wonderful people and my science classes), but there is so, so much that I will miss about the UK: good tea with little snacks, krumpets, the lovely middle-class British accent (somewhere between Cockney and posh British) as well as the Scottish accent, Paul (that place with the fantastic hot chocolate), largely unprocessed food, Snog, the Stockpot, all of the wonderful museums, the Kensington/Chelsea area in general, and more. However, I was talking with my parents yesterday on Skype, and I came up with a few things that I know I want to do the next time I am here. For the most part, I want to spend more time in other parts of the UK: Scotland (more time in Edinburgh, Aberdeen, Loch Lomond again, and Loch Ness), Wales, Bath, York, Cambridge, and the Lake District. Of course, then I started thinking about other places in Europe that I absolutely must visit before I die: Finland and Italy (Tuscany and Sicily). It would also be really cool to see Greece, France (the countryside, not Paris), Austria, Norway, and Ireland. On the home front, it would be great to visit Boston, New York City, Philadelphia, Baltimore, San Francisco, Chicago again, Kansas City, and Door County in Wisconsin. I better get cracking if I'm going to do all of this, huh? Oh, well. It's good to at least dream.

When a group of us went to turn in our seminar papers today, Josh gave us each a copy of the big group picture we took at Heythrop. Overall, it's a pretty good picture, I think (although I don't think I'm very photogenic; but I shouldn't concentrate on me: I should concentrate on the other lovely faces in the photograph). It will be great to have it in my room when I get back to Augie so I can relive all of the memories.

If you can't tell, I'm way at the far right in the very front row.

Today I also learned a new British slang term: "lemon" to them means "idiot" or "fool." A maintenance man came into our room today to fix this loop on our wall that they use to strap a rope into when they are cleaning the windows. He forgot his tools on Lauren's desk, and when she went to return them to him, he said, "Cheers. Thanks. I'm a lemon." It was delightful.

I ended my day with a trip to a sushi restaurant called Yo! Sushi near St. Paul's Cathedral. It was so incredibly delicious! I started with edamame (always a good choice), then I had a spicy chicken salad with lettuce, carrots, and green beans. My third dish was three pieces of sushi with three different types of fish on the rice: shrimp, tuna, and salmon. My fourth dish was a sushi roll of mixed fish: again, shrimp, tuna, and salmon. My fifth dish was battered and deep-fried pumpkin with a fruity, tangy sauce. My sixth dish was vegetables and soba noodles. Finally, I finished my meal with mochi (sweet rice balls with a bean paste) for dessert. It was really fun getting to pick any plate that I wanted off the belt. We had all the necessary accouterments of sushi-eating at the counter with us (chopsticks, napkins, water from a tap, and soy sauce with little ceramic dishes). It was definitely more expensive than I would have liked, but I have only a few days in London, so I figure I can splurge a little.

Always a great way to start a sushi meal!

You can't beat tradition.

Mmmm. Delicious and filling!

I'm happy that you enjoy reading my blog! (The green semi-circles are the mochi.)

In other news, Chelsea is prepping for Christmas, especially along the King's Road, where fake Christmas trees with lights adorn the lamp posts.

Tomorrow is my final exam for British Politics. I hope that the outlines I have created will help me remember what I need to write down so I do well on the essays. After 11:30 AM tomorrow, I will be completely done with all of my schoolwork for the term, so I can exhale a little bit and then jump right into packing for home. I also got my final grade for British Art History: A! I am extremely pleased because I was afraid that I wasn't doing my usual level of work (being distracted by London and such). But this bodes well for my other two classes, too. I hate how my transcript looks right now--two "Incompletes" because our final hasn't been graded yet for History of London, and I still have to take my British Politics final. I am glad that at least one of my professors was able to get the grades in on time (that sounds threatening, but I'm just stating the facts). It makes me feel a little better. If you haven't heard, my brother won the Victor C. Dunder award from his Nordic ski team, which means that he gets a full set of ski equipment. When he graduates, he will pass the equipment down to another skier. Hurray, David! He deserves it. :)

My seminar paper is here for you to read:

How Does Your Garden Grow?: Examining British and American Gardens

            It is often observed that pets resemble their owners. After spending ten weeks in London, I have noticed that the same is true of gardens. My journey to understanding British gardens took me to such places as the Roof Gardens, the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew, the Chelsea Physic Garden, the gardens at Hampton Court Palace, and finally—the forebear of all of these gardens—Chiswick House and Grounds. I have discovered that the British and American characters are revealed as clearly through their respective gardens as if the people of each nation had been personally interviewed. British gardens evidence respect for nature, a love of tradition, reserve, practicality, authenticity, and a well-developed inferiority complex. Conversely, American gardens evidence a frivolous attitude toward nature, a love of novelty, boldness, impracticality, artifice, and keen egotism. Yet British and American gardens have at least two things in common: an imperialistic aspect (certainly contradictory for the British) and playfulness. These similarities are not immediately apparent upon comparison of the two types of garden. Rather, what is most apparent in any such comparison is a very strong difference in the British and American attitudes toward gardens in general.

British gardens exude a respect for nature that is not easily paralleled. The traditional British garden is quite large and includes such features as trees, neatly trimmed grass, a pond or other source of water, winding footpaths, and any other type of plant that the owner sees fit to grow, all of which are usually enclosed by a brick wall. Because space in London is tight, most homeowners do not have very large gardens, but those gardens usually take up every inch of available land. If there is one thing British people love, it’s their gardens. They give the name “garden” to many different places, including those that aren’t really gardens at all—parks, roads, and neighborhoods, for instance. On our first day in London, our tour guide Angie took us students to see the seldom-open Roof Gardens off Kensington High Street. From her conversation, I could tell that the British view such an experience as a real treat. Some native Londoners still have not seen the garden because it is so popular for receptions and parties. There is even a club in the garden that Prince Harry often frequents, so it is clear that a love of gardens and nature in general transcends British class boundaries. The proliferation of gardens throughout the city suggests that gardens are all but necessary to British life.

By contrast, Americans tend to view gardens somewhat frivolously. Gardening in the United States is a hobby, an outlet for the exercise of personal choice. Americans tend to view life with an as-you-like-it attitude, which is why it is so hard to describe an American garden. When I think of an American garden, I picture a boxed-in backyard plot in which vegetables, flowers, or both may grow. Some gardens have small ponds with koi fish or goldfish, but there is by no means a standard definition of a “garden” in the American lexicon. What is almost a guarantee, though, is that the garden will not envelop the whole backyard. Americans value the openness and freedom of a backyard too much for that. The common characteristic of all American gardens is that there is no common characteristic; they are whatever their owners decide to make them.

This careless American attitude must be appalling for the British, who are almost obsessed with their traditions (including the landscape garden). The British hold their gardens and other aspects of their lives to higher, stricter standards than Americans do because the British respect and care about such things too much to neglect them to mere opinion. In addition, the British people are more concerned than Americans are with preserving the precious history of their places and people. The British landscape garden dates back to around 1729, when Chiswick House was built in West London. Very little has changed since then, as can be seen by visiting any of the major gardens in the area. The same narrow, rectangular beds seen in the Chelsea Physic garden are also present in Kew Gardens and the gardens of Hampton Court Palace. Additionally, all of the gardens that I visited had the same general layout: a wide open space with trees, a wide variety of other plants, and one or more bodies of water. The British have found a gardening method that works for them, and they are not changing it anytime soon.

A couple of examples will suffice to demonstrate this love of tradition. One is the presence of follies (fake ruins) in many British gardens, including the Aeolis Temple at Kew Gardens. Such follies serve to remind the British of their ancient origins, in which they take a great amount of pride. Another example is the Wollemi pine (a “living fossil”), also at Kew Gardens. This prehistoric tree was thought to be extinct until a specimen was found in a secluded gully in an Australian forest. One such specimen now lives in the UK, and it seems to serve as a testament to the British ability to endure trials and come away from them stronger.

The American way, the way of progress and innovation, could not be more different. The sheer variety of gardens in the United States proves that Americans are never satisfied with just one method of doing things. Instead, Americans feel that they must constantly improve or risk becoming irrelevant. The fast pace of American life means fast change, so gardens must change as well and just as quickly. Gardens in the United States can be as diverse as rock gardens, Zen gardens, rose gardens, vegetable gardens, wild gardens (populated by native species of grass and flowers), or a hybrid of two or more of these styles (another American innovation). British people must be shocked when they learn that Americans have no single right way to construct a garden. The British are accustomed to a more concrete, immutable type of garden, whereas Americans are accustomed to a more undefined, variable type of garden.

Another trait that is very clearly expressed in British gardens is the reserve of their owners. The brick walls that surround most British gardens tend to make the gardens more subtle. As such, the gardens are not visually assaulting and reveal themselves by degrees, a very charming effect that reflects the British people themselves in interpersonal interactions. British people are reluctant to share personal information right from the get-go, and it is only through extended relationships and continued conversations with them that they reveal more intimate details. As it is with the British people, so it is with their gardens. Chelsea Physic Garden is perhaps the best example of this. Each new bend in the pathway brings a new section of the garden and a new treasure to behold, including a quaint spice garden, a garden designed to illustrate different kinds of seed dispersal, and a medical garden. It is simply delightful and completely British.

Like Americans themselves, American gardens tend to be bold and outgoing. Americans mostly keep them open and unfenced, as with my own vegetable garden at home and with front-yard landscaping (assuming the entire property is not fenced in). Americans love the idea of freedom, so it is no wonder that such an affinity would reveal itself in their gardens. It is much harder to downplay an American garden, as it is usually visually arresting. Americans are often scolded by their British cousins for being “too friendly” and too ready to share private information with near-strangers. Consequently, there is almost nothing “secret” about an American garden; it shows everything in one fell swoop and leaves nothing to the imagination or to discovery. As such, American gardens have less charm than their British counterparts.

To continue, a common stereotype of the British is that they are inexorably practical, and this characteristic is observable in their gardens as well as in their personalities. British gardens often have some element of symmetry, even if the garden as a whole is asymmetrical. The Tudor Garden at Hampton Court Palace is a great example because it has heraldic animal statues along its main path as well as equal numbers of identically-arranged and identically-sized boxes on either side of the path. Additionally, the British tend to favor useful plants in their gardens, which is abundantly clear in the many botanic gardens located in the UK. Once again, I think that Chelsea Physic Garden illustrates this point nicely. The garden was founded in 1673 as a study tool for apothecary students, and it still bears evidence of this use today in the medical garden, a collection of plants organized by the type of disease they treat. The maladies are as diverse as gastrointestinal ailments, cardiopulmonary conditions, and skin disorders. The large gingko tree on the premises is another example of a medical plant: it can be used to treat tuberculosis. A final group of practical plants on the premises are the wildflowers that grow on the side of Fortune’s Tank Pond; they serve as cover for young frogs.

By contrast, American gardens evidence the infamous American impracticality. There is very little rhyme or reason to American gardens, and they are often planted willy-nilly with a hodge-podge of plant varieties and styles. This is not to say that Americans do not plan their gardens, but the construction of an American garden is nowhere near as regimented and exact as the construction of a British garden. Whereas the British seem to have a certain regard for the tastes and sensibilities of other people, Americans do what they like to please themselves and often do not care how their words and actions might affect others. After all, it is a free country. The result is a collection of gardens that, though they may be loved by their owners, may be an eyesore to neighbors and friends. It is hard to imagine such a result with British gardens because they are held to such unwavering standards.

The British are nothing if not proud of being genuine, a feature of British life seen both in interpersonal interactions and gardens. The British love to make their gardens appear natural and authentic despite the fact that those gardens have been constructed to look that way. A common feature of British gardens is a wooded area or “wilderness” that looks as if it dates back to time immemorial. Both Chiswick House and Kew Gardens have this feature, whose desired effect is one of simply stumbling upon a picturesque patch of land with perfectly cut grass; green, leafy trees; and sparkling bodies of water. Interestingly enough, it is nearly impossible to achieve this idyllic scene without some kind of human intervention. I think that the British generally do a very good job of disguising the human hand in their garden work. Unfortunately, the same is not true of Americans.

Artifice seems as American as apple pie, so it is not surprising that it is found in American gardens. There is virtually no pretense of authenticity in an American garden. Americans intentionally create green spaces in their backyards, and they are not ashamed to reveal that those green spaces are contrived rather than natural. In fact, Americans seem to take pride in the fact that human hands have wrought what the eye sees in a garden, whereas the British seem keener to hide the fact that their gardens are created spaces. I think that this stems more from American egotism and the British inferiority complex than from American honesty and British falsehood. Americans want to receive credit where it is due, while the British are more content to let someone or something else take the credit for something they have created.

The British people are well-known for their extreme self-deprecation, and this intense form of modesty is very clear in their gardens. British gardens contain a lot more exotic plant and animal varieties than native species. I have seen numerous British homes with bamboo and palm trees growing on the premises. In addition, all of the gardens that I visited had non-native plant and animal species. The Rooftop Garden has flamingoes. The Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew have parrots and peacocks. The Chelsea Physic Garden has several hothouses with plants from different regions of the world, such as Asia, South America, and the Mediterranean. Finally, the grounds of Chiswick House contain two cedar trees from Lebanon and a conservatory housing dozens of camellias, flowers native to Southeast Asia.

Americans are just the opposite: they think that they live in the greatest country in the world, so patriotic pride is virtually guaranteed in their gardens. The overwhelming majority of plant varieties found in American gardens are native. Americans love to display the work that they have done and receive praise for their ingenuity. Rather than grow a plant from another country, Americans prefer to grow a plant variety that was developed “at home.” It is clear that they love their own varieties best.

Interestingly enough, all of these differences belie a couple of similarities between British and American gardens. First, both British and American gardens can be imperialistic. I have just discussed American egotism with reference to gardens, but the British—for all their modesty—also possess a sense of superiority. They seem to have just one “right” way to organize a garden, and owing to their strong sense of propriety, they tend to adhere to that way. The beds in their gardens are neat, orderly, perfectly angular, and surrounded by tidy patches of grass. It is as if the British feel the need to control nature, as seen in the topiary in London. Neatly-trimmed hedges proliferate in the city, and Hampton Court Palace outside the city has a large collection of trees with gumdrop-shaped crowns that are obviously the work of human hands. I would have a hard time believing that such forms were possible in nature. Even though the British tend to be meek and reserved in conversation, they seem to have no trouble boldly controlling the natural world around them.

Secondly, both British and American gardens can be playful. This trait is certainly surprising in the case of the British because they tend to be a bit stern and serious. Nevertheless, I have noted several occasions of the British having fun with their gardens. The corkscrew-shaped topiary outside the National Portrait Gallery in Trafalgar Square is just one example. I was walking past St. James’s Park one afternoon and noticed a lovely bunch of flowering bushes, each speckled with flowers of a different color. Such splashes of color are not uncommon in British gardens. The disorganized space of the “wilderness” in British gardens is another example of play.  It is one area where the British can let loose. It seems that a little mess for authenticity’s sake is okay once in awhile. A final example of play is the “goose’s foot,” a feature of certain British gardens in which a group of paths converges at a common point, such as a statue, building, or obelisk. I learned about the goose’s foot first at Chiswick House, but when I went back and looked at maps of other British gardens I had visited, I noticed similar shapes at Kew Gardens and Hampton Court. The goose’s foot at Kew Gardens leads to the Palm House, while the goose’s foot at Hampton Court leads to the palace itself. I don’t need to say much about playfulness in American gardens. The very spirit of American gardens is playful because they often feature a mash-up of styles and a whimsical (if undisciplined) arrangement of plants. In fact, Americans often have an overdeveloped sense of the necessity for play. It is often hard for them to be serious, and their gardens are just the same.

All in all, British and American gardens, like British and American people, are very different. British gardens tend to downplay their own beauty while emphasizing the old and authentic over the new and fake. The exact inverse is true of American gardens. Yet both types of gardens (and both types of people) know how to have fun and can lapse into self-congratulation at times. I think that there is beauty in both types of gardens, yet I cannot help but prefer the British garden because it is more in line with my personality. If there is one thing I have learned to appreciate about the British during this term, it is their ability to create beautiful works of nature in the most subtle, gentle, down-to-earth way imaginable.