Okay, hands up. Who
owns a garden gnome? Confess, now. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll confess.
I have one. I call him Darth Spader, not that his name reflects any ambition to
take up a shovel and help out. He prefers instead to hang out unobtrusively behind a shrub.
Some find garden gnomes cute while others
find them repulsive. Why, the Royal Horticultural Society considers coloured figures of all kinds, whether gnomes, fairies or
similar creatures, unacceptable at any shows. And the little folk have always been persona non grata at the
venerable old Chelsea Flower Show.
Garden gnomes have a
strong Teutonic background. The origin of gnomes hasn’t been as thoroughly
researched as that of humans, but it does appear that the first clay garden gnome
(der Gartenzwerg) was made in Graeferoda, Thuringia, Germany in the 1800's. While
a first recorded appearance of a garden gnome in England was around 1840 at the
estate of Sir Charles Isham, the 10th Baronet of Lamport Hall.
Not only are gnomes part of the landscape in Germany, for a while they
were all the rage in Paris and became something of a status symbol in
French gardens. Back in
2000, the chic Parc de Bagatelle in Paris displayed 2000 of the little guys
throughout the world famous gardens, the very same gardens that a decade
earlier displayed sculptures by Henry Moore.
The communiqué further stated that the garden
gnomes should not be ridiculed and should be released into their natural
habitat (funny, I’d have thought that since they were garden gnomes, they were
already in their natural habitat).
Unfortunately, gnome thieves are not only active in France.
There have been many other instances of them going missing from gardens around
the world, sometimes kidnapped with demands made for considerable ransom money.
Even here in Waterloo gnome abductions have occurred.
I don’t know the details of the case, or whether the
perpetrators were apprehended. I only happened to learn of it when I stopped by
the annual police auction at the Waterloo detachment one Saturday morning a
year or two back. The usual racks of bicycles were up for sale, along with household
articles that had been lost or recovered, but over in the doorway of the police
station, I discovered a group of garden gnomes. They were huddled together out
of the wind, some of them ceramic, others concrete or plastic. Most were
brightly coloured while a couple looked as though they’d been living rough. I assumed they were recovered after being stolen as a prank.
A prank maybe, but heartbreaking to the owner.
For a moment, I felt an
overwhelming urge to stick around and purchase the lot and take them home to
share the garden with Darth, but I resisted. I really didn’t have room for
them, and I somehow felt that Darth might not appreciate such a large invasion,
solitary character that he is, so I left them to their fate, hoping they’d be
adopted by a kindhearted gardener.
Whether you’re a fan of garden gnomes or not (George
Harrison welcomed them into his garden and also included them on an album
cover), they’re certainly controversial characters, and if they bring the good
luck that they’re reputed to, then I’d say every garden needs one.
I should add that these are not real garden gnomes I’m
referring to here. Besides sneaking into prestigious garden shows, genuine ones
particularly love to attend Oktoberfest, all dressed up in their nifty gnome lederhosen.
If you happen to discover one sleeping it off under the shrubbery in your back
yard this week, ignore him. He’ll probably wander off after he wakes up. But if
you can persuade him to rake leaves first, go right ahead.
No comments:
Post a Comment