Geraniums and Gothic Tales: Hawthorne’s Horticultural Horror Story

On This Day
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:

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May 19, 1864

On this day, dear readers, we mark the passing of Nathaniel Hawthorne (books about this person), the American novelist and short-story writer whose pen brought us such classics as The Scarlet Letter and The House of the Seven Gables.

But today, let us delve into the lesser-known corners of Hawthorne's world, where gardens bloom and bizarre tales unfold.

Picture, if you will, The Wayside, Hawthorne's home in Concord, Massachusetts.

Two years after his death, his sister Sophia penned a letter to her friend Annie Fields, capturing the essence of the May landscape:

There is a beauty in May which there is not in July.

After these latter rains, the glory of tender and deep greens surpasses all words . . . the walks — the paths look so nice, and there is no knowing what enormity of sauciness the weeds will arrive at by July.

Can you not smell the fresh, rain-washed air?

Can you not see the tender green leaves unfurling, the paths neat and tidy before summer's exuberant growth takes hold?

Sophia's words paint a vivid picture of a landscape poised between spring's promise and summer's abundance.

But let us turn now from the tranquil beauty of The Wayside to a tale that showcases Hawthorne's more... shall we say, unconventional side.

Imagine, if you dare, a story penned in 1843 that few today have heard of - a tale of obsession, perfection, and the deadly power of plants.

In this little-known short story, Hawthorne introduces us to a mad scientist consumed by a singular goal: to remove his wife Georgiana's birthmark. But how, you ask, does our deranged doctor propose to accomplish this feat?

Why, with geraniums, of course!

Picture our scientist, hunched over his laboratory bench, concocting a potion from the leaves of innocent geraniums. His wife, trusting soul that she is, drinks the brew. And lo and behold, her birthmark does indeed fade away!

But at what cost, dear readers?

For as the blemish disappears, so too does Georgiana's life force ebb away. She dies, we are told, "a perfect, unblemished woman."

One can almost hear Hawthorne's dark chuckle as he penned the final lines of this macabre tale. What a contrast to the serene beauty of The Wayside's May landscape!

As we reflect on these two sides of Hawthorne's world - the tranquil garden and the gothic tale - we are reminded of the complex nature of creativity.

From the same mind that appreciated the "tender and deep greens" of a May garden sprang stories of darkness and obsession.

Perhaps, as we tend our own gardens, we might pause to consider the duality of nature - its beauty and its potential for danger. And maybe, just maybe, we'll cast a slightly wary eye on our geraniums, remembering Hawthorne's cautionary tale of perfection pursued at too high a price.

So, dear readers, the next time you find yourself admiring the "saucy" growth of your summer garden, or contemplating the removal of a perceived imperfection, take a moment to remember Nathaniel Hawthorne.

In his works, both famous and obscure, we find a reflection of nature's beauty, humanity's foibles, and the sometimes thin line between the two.

And if you should happen upon a mad scientist brewing tea from geranium leaves... well, perhaps it's best to politely decline!

Nathaniel Hawthorne
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Red Geraniums
Red Geraniums

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