David George Haskell really likes flowers and flowering plants. Like, really really likes them. If you don’t like them nearly as much as him, I think you will find this book boring. But, if you like them almost as much as him, then I think you will like this.

You see, this not the kind of nonfiction book that uses all sorts of storytelling techniques to grab and keep your attention (think Patrick Radden Keefe or Naomi Klein). It is also not a nonfiction that tries to keep things short and concise, cutting straight to the chase. This is more like sitting down with a friend and asking them about their special interest. You will learn things and find connections to flowers and flowering plants in unexpected places. You will also learn about some things tangentially related to flowers, some history, some biology, even a little bit of sociology here and there. You will stop by in different locations to smell, touch, see the flowers and learn about how they interact with their environment. This book is meandering, yet the author has a clear voice and a message to convey. I enjoyed the journey and might be revisiting this book in the future. But then again, I like flowering plants and history and human-plant relationships and all the other things the author talks about.

I would describe the author’s perspective as relational. He talks about individual species, but they are always contextualised within their ecosystem and the ways they interact with the world. He focuses on flowers as makers of connections: between the soil, insects, humans and life in general. He also touches on indigenous perspectives, although I do wish they had been included more thoroughly and consistently throughout the whole book. Also, despite having a very ecologically-minded approach, he does still fall into the trap of reflecting on the value of plants through their economic value to humans. Thankfully, this doesn’t happen terribly often, but it does feel like there is an emerging critique within this pages of capitalism as a whole which is never quite fully realised. The author is critical of our productive systems and our relationship with plants, but still can’t envision a true alternative to capitalistic society. If the critical angle had been taken just a little bit further, with a more thorough inclusion of indigenous perspectives and a more direct critique of capitalism, this would have been a five-star read for me.

I did really enjoy the discussion around imperial colonialism and how the control of plants, aided by the development of sciences like taxonomy and botany, was an essential aspect of the colonial project. I also appreciated his comments on the indigenous knowledge of places like England and Scottland, which was much more respectful with the local ecosystems but was lost due to industrialisation. I feel like sometimes it’s easy to think of indigenous knowledge as something only fully developed and essential in the peoples that were forced to abandon them by Europeans, but not within Europe itself, where we may call it folklore or dismiss it as “unscientific”. This short section of the book made me reflect on all of the knowledge of local plants and sustainable ways of living that will be mostly lost with my grandmothers’ generation in Spain, and it made me more aware of the importance of also preserving this kind of knowledge. Lastly, and in a similar vein, I also appreciated the author’s insistence on seeking direct experience and emotional connection to plants as a way to change our relationship with the ecosystems that sustain us. To this end, there was even an annex at the end with suggested activities to experience the teachings of the book directly through interacting with flowers, which I found quite unique. I’d love for more nonfiction books to include similar tools rather than staying on the theoretical level only.

All in all, this was a pleasant and, for the most part, relaxing read. I learned some new things and, even though the author doesn’t shy away from highlighting all the ways in which humans are damaging the ecosystems we depend on beyond repair, the overall tone of the book felt hopeful. I think if you are interested in the topics the author covers and you like his writing style, you will enjoy this. Some of the topics the book touched on were: the role of flowering plants in the evolution of life; the evolution of flowering plants themselves and the ways in which they interact with the environment; animal-plant relationships and the dependence of humans on flowering plants; the influence of flowers in human culture (perfumery, gardening, food, appreciation of beauty, etc.).

David George Haskell really likes flowers and flowering plants. Like, really really likes them. If you don’t like them nearly as much as him, I think you will find this book boring. But, if you like them almost as much as him, then I think you will like this.

You see, this not the kind of nonfiction book that uses all sorts of storytelling techniques to grab and keep your attention (think Patrick Radden Keefe or Naomi Klein). It is also not a nonfiction that tries to keep things short and concise, cutting straight to the chase. This is more like sitting down with a friend and asking them about their special interest. You will learn things and find connections to flowers and flowering plants in unexpected places. You will also learn about some things tangentially related to flowers, some history, some biology, even a little bit of sociology here and there. You will stop by in different locations to smell, touch, see the flowers and learn about how they interact with their environment. This book is meandering, yet the author has a clear voice and a message to convey. I enjoyed the journey and might be revisiting this book in the future. But then again, I like flowering plants and history and human-plant relationships and all the other things the author talks about.

I would describe the author’s perspective as relational. He talks about individual species, but they are always contextualised within their ecosystem and the ways they interact with the world. He focuses on flowers as makers of connections: between the soil, insects, humans and life in general. He also touches on indigenous perspectives, although I do wish they had been included more thoroughly and consistently throughout the whole book. Also, despite having a very ecologically-minded approach, he does still fall into the trap of reflecting on the value of plants through their economic value to humans. Thankfully, this doesn’t happen terribly often, but it does feel like there is an emerging critique within this pages of capitalism as a whole which is never quite fully realised. The author is critical of our productive systems and our relationship with plants, but still can’t envision a true alternative to capitalistic society. If the critical angle had been taken just a little bit further, with a more thorough inclusion of indigenous perspectives and a more direct critique of capitalism, this would have been a five-star read for me.

I did really enjoy the discussion around imperial colonialism and how the control of plants, aided by the development of sciences like taxonomy and botany, was an essential aspect of the colonial project. I also appreciated his comments on the indigenous knowledge of places like England and Scottland, which was much more respectful with the local ecosystems but was lost due to industrialisation. I feel like sometimes it’s easy to think of indigenous knowledge as something only fully developed and essential in the peoples that were forced to abandon them by Europeans, but not within Europe itself, where we may call it folklore or dismiss it as “unscientific”. This short section of the book made me reflect on all of the knowledge of local plants and sustainable ways of living that will be mostly lost with my grandmothers’ generation in Spain, and it made me more aware of the importance of also preserving this kind of knowledge. Lastly, and in a similar vein, I also appreciated the author’s insistence on seeking direct experience and emotional connection to plants as a way to change our relationship with the ecosystems that sustain us. To this end, there was even an annex at the end with suggested activities to experience the teachings of the book directly through interacting with flowers, which I found quite unique. I’d love for more nonfiction books to include similar tools rather than staying on the theoretical level only.

All in all, this was a pleasant and, for the most part, relaxing read. I learned some new things and, even though the author doesn’t shy away from highlighting all the ways in which humans are damaging the ecosystems we depend on beyond repair, the overall tone of the book felt hopeful. I think if you are interested in the topics the author covers and you like his writing style, you will enjoy this. Some of the topics the book touched on were: the role of flowering plants in the evolution of life; the evolution of flowering plants themselves and the ways in which they interact with the environment; animal-plant relationships and the dependence of humans on flowering plants; the influence of flowers in human culture (perfumery, gardening, food, appreciation of beauty, etc.).