Margaret Atwood: The Poet Laureate of Earth and Leaf
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
November 18, 1939
On this day, the literary world welcomed a true force of nature - Margaret Atwood, a woman whose words would bloom as profusely and provocatively as the most audacious of gardens.
Born into a world on the brink of war, young Margaret would grow to become not just a poet and novelist, but a veritable polymath of the written word.
Literary critic, essayist, teacher - she wore these titles as comfortably as a gardener dons their well-worn gloves. But Atwood was not content to merely cultivate ideas on paper. No, she branched out into environmental activism and even invention, proving that her creativity knew no bounds.
It is in her 1986 work, Bluebeard's Egg, that Atwood reveals her deep understanding of the gardener's soul. She writes, with the clarity of one who has felt soil between her fingers:
Gardening is not a rational act. What matters is the immersion of the hands in the earth, that ancient ceremony of which the Pope kissing the tarmac is merely pallid vestigial remnant. In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
Oh, how these words resonate with those of us who have knelt in the earth, our hands stained with chlorophyll and our nails rimmed with soil! Atwood understands that gardening is not merely a hobby, but a primal connection to the earth itself. She elevates the act of digging, planting, and nurturing to a sacred rite, comparing it to the Pope's ceremonial kiss of the ground upon arrival in a new country.
But our dear Margaret goes further, doesn't she?
She insists that true gardening should leave its mark on us - not just on our hands, but on our very essence.
"You should smell like dirt," she declares, and in those six words, she captures the essence of what it means to be a true gardener. It's not about pristine gloves and untouched knees. It's about immersion, dedication, and a willingness to become one with the earth we tend.
Atwood's words remind us that gardening is an act of rebellion against the sterile, the artificial, the disconnected. In a world increasingly removed from nature, she calls us back to the soil, back to the fundamental act of nurturing life from seed to bloom.
Her comparison of gardening to an "ancient ceremony" evokes images of our ancestors, their lives intertwined with the rhythms of the earth.
In this light, every seed we plant, every weed we pull, becomes a link in an unbroken chain stretching back to the dawn of agriculture.
As we celebrate Margaret Atwood's birth, let us also celebrate her insight into the gardener's heart. Let us remember that when we garden, we are not merely cultivating plants - we are participating in an ageless ritual, connecting with the earth in a way that transcends reason and touches the very core of our being.
So, dear readers, the next time you find yourself in your garden, hands deep in the cool earth, pause for a moment.
Breathe in the rich scent of soil and growing things.
And remember Margaret Atwood's words.
For in that moment, you are not just a gardener - you are a celebrant in one of nature's most ancient and sacred ceremonies.
