Danger All Around
I was fascinated by Amy Stewart's new book, Wicked Plants: The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother & Other Botanical Atrocities, which the Red Room staff picked as its first book club read. It's an entertaining compendium of plants that range from mildly irritating to individual people to truly awful that decimate whole societies. The etchings by Briony Morrow-Cribbs and the illustrations by Jonathon Rosen really added to my enjoyment of the book, and I can only wish there were even more. (I like that both graphic artists have plant names, as well.)
My main "takeaway" from the book shifted as we were talking about it this morning. I came in thinking how much more hazardous the world was a hundred years ago or more— most of the anecdotes about accidental poisonings or warfare using plants listed in the book seemed to me to come from a time before antidotes, mass-produced guidebooks, or the internet. As Michele Chaboudy talked about producing a small crop of tobacco when she was growing up, I realized that harmful plants have actually done far worse damage, on a much grander scale, since industrialization made the opium poppy, coca, cannabis, and tobacco into such important cash crops. Unlike the death camas or the suicide tree, we cultivate these modern horrors in such mass quantities on purpose, killing ourselves and the environment with a speed and an efficiency that makes curare and strychnine look pretty toothless.
In contrast to, say, Michael Pollan, who woke up so many of us about corn in The Omnivore's Dilemma, Stewart doesn't hit you over the head with this point (except maybe with tobacco). If you're of a certain lightly macabre mindset, her stories are quite entertaining. I know I enjoyed some mild Schadenfreude thinking about a world where it can be hazardous just to walk in the wrong part of the forest. Now that we've come a long way in mitigating the small-scale, mostly accidental damage from the botanical world, though, it's sobering to think of the much larger harm we're doing to ourselves now with plants.
- Login Or register To Post Comments
- Send To A Friend



Dorraine K. Darden says:
Poisonous in a good way
This one has peaked the curious in me. Thanks for the great write up, Huntington! Speaking of hazardous plants, have you heard the story involving one said variety (oleander)which happened on one of America's most haunted places, the Myrtles Plantation in Louisiana?
Huntington W. Sharp says:
Oleander
Thanks, Dorraine! I don't know that story, but I did know a woman fifteen years ago who said her father was the man behind planting oleander alongside freeways. (This is exceedingly common in California, but I'm not sure about elsewhere.) She seemed very proud of that, saying she thought they were "goddamn beautiful."
Huntington Sharp, Red Room
Dorraine K. Darden says:
Oleander
Oh, I wondered who planted all of those! You will find them along south Texas freeways also. Profuse bloomers. All summer. They need very little water to thrive. Beautiful, yes. She was right about that. Myrtles story in condensed version: Chloe, a slave girl was said to have poisoned the plantation owners children and wife. She boiled oleander leaves, mixing the liquid in cake batter for a birthday celebration. Some say she only wanted to show how much she was needed as in making them just sick enough to nurse back to health.
She had been caught eves-dropping on numerous occasions, and it was rumored she'd be put back out in the fields. Her plan backfired. Two of their three children died, along with the mother, and Chloe was supposedly hung from a tree in the front yard, hence the haunting.
We did stay there once. In the caretakers cottage behind the house. This because I was too chicken to stay in the house. Turns out the caretaker had been murdered in the cottage. I then asked/begged for a room in the house. But, of course, there were none. I then went to the liquor store. Slept like a baby!
I ain't afraid of no ghosts.