The Jewel Box Garden [Hardcover]

Thomas Hobbs is, at least in the persona he presents in this book, an avant-gardist gardening snob. He sees gardening as a fashion-driven art, where trendy plants are to be discarded as soon as they become too popular with the petit bourgeoisie, for whom his contempt is made clear on almost every page of text. Some of this stuff can't be spoofed, because it's impossible to be more catty than Hobbs here (block quotes preceded by ** and italics presented as ALL CAPS):

** Some gardeners will never learn the art of plant assemblage... As I drive by their predictable efforts, I often wonder, "Is Life Easier?"

** Being a left-handed, Gemini breach-birth ALLOWS me to love tetraploid daylilies. It is WHO I AM BOTANICALLY.

** Bowling balls are appropriate in Marcia Donahue's garden/gallery in Berkeley, California, because SHE DID IT FIRST.

Hobbs is obsessed with rejection of the common and the cliched, but most of his featured gardens also look alike, in part because they're almost all small shaded urban gardens in the coastal Northwest, but more notably because they eschew flowers in favor of foliage plants - mostly bright or spiky - with color from kitschy cast-offs and outré sculpture, including flesh-colored ceramic penises.

In my (hardly original) opinion, a big problem with most people's enjoyment of the arts today is that the field has already done what is pretty or handsome, and since its current practitioners are jaded by their predecessors' work and aspire to being original, they must often produce what most nonspecialists consider ugly. This is notably a problem with architecture and oil painting (and classical music) by about World War I, and haute couture since the Kennedy Administration. So far horticulture has largely escaped the curse of avant-gardist ugliness, but not in this book. I wondered whether it was fair to Hobbs to say he has passed a step beyond "Shocking Beauty" to where much of this book is ugly, but then I came to his penultimate page of prose:

** I have noticed a switch in gardening, from "pretty" to what I call "the New Ugly." I find this fascinating and very, very attractive. In gardening, UGLY HAS BEEN REDEFINED by brilliant plantsmen and -women who get absolutely no thrill from trying to make a pretty picture. By increasing the dosage of all that is weird and unexpected, these thrillseekers are creating powerful, unforgettable experiences.

Umh, NO IT HASN'T! If we wanted "powerful, unforgettable experiences" of ugliness, we would just move into a junkyard next to an oil refinery! That said, if the book's title or dust-jacket reflected this decadent philosophy, I could rate it 4 stars [...]

Perhaps oddly, Hobbs' Vancouver garden is larger, far more colorful and floriferous, and far more beautiful, than the preceding gardens. Hobbs doesn't fail to add a campy dramatic element, however, to his discovery of the Vancouver house:

** I will never forget ringing the doorbell, expecting "Max," [from Sunset Boulevard] or at least Harvey Korman dressed as "Max," to open the door. Instead, a very short Alfred Hitchcock type greeted us, with a badly-wigged woman peering over his shoulder.

As you might have guessed, the text of this book is more about Hobbs' persona than about gardening. But it isn't until the very last page of prose that we learn exactly how, for Hobbs, the garden is therapy - about talking to plants, which most people can't do ("and it shows"!) - and about remembering gardeners who gave him plants and then died of AIDS. Life is a veil of tears, so maybe we should cut him some slack, even if we are not in love with ugliness.

Thomas Hobbs, who also wrote "Shocking Beauty, has written another exquisite book. In "Jewelbox", he elaborates more on his philosophy about gardening (actually, life). This book carries the thread of Shocking Beauty, but is in no way redundant. There are wonderful close-ups and elegant garden vignettes, as well as humorous and "shocking" images (from the gardens of people who are most likely his friends). Mr. Hobbs is gifted, articulate and knowledgeable about plants, and he is an extraordinary editor. The gardens in this book run the stylistic gamut, but each has something wonderful to say about personal style and about having the guts and the eye to make a garden so undeniably individual.
I can't imagine not loving this book.

A more appropriate name doesn't exist. Imagine opening a beautifully crafted jewelry box to find the most sparkling baubles and brightly colored gems. David McDonald's photographs create this effect with the most exquisite flowers and plants imaginable. Nature's beauty surpasses the traditional sparkling trinkets one might expect to find and Thomas Hobbs describes them in the manner they deserve. I found this book to be a work of art, a gallery of paintings that happened to be growing from the earth. A must have for every gardener, artist, or anyone who appreciates beauty.

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