Gardens Symbolism

Gardens in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” John Steinbeck’s “The Chrysanthemums,” and Xiaoping Zhu’s “Chronicle of Mulberry Tree Village”

Hawthorne’s “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” Steinbeck’s “The Chrysanthemums,” and Zhu’s “Chronicle of Mulberry Tree Village” feature a garden, which symbolizes a character’s inner turmoil by drawing parallels between their repression and the gardens they have created in order to facilitate a faзade of internal harmony. The symbolic history of gardens begins with nearly every culture’s creation story. Eden, as it is called in Christian theology, was a paradise created to house one man and one woman, perfect and without sin. Their souls untarnished, they were able to live in utopia until their inevitable fall, after which the garden became their veritable enemy. No longer were they able to cull food from it easily or to use it as they had before. Their sin had separated their souls, and therefore their entire selves from the garden. The tradition of linking the soul and the garden was continued in early China, beginning with the Zen priests who used gardens to symbolize the inner peace they strived to attain. Centuries later, the French built gardens as symbols of their decadence; within the walls of these luxurious gardens they would hide personal artifacts, which were supposed to tie their soul to the garden in order that they may achieve the same harmony.

The tradition continues in literature. The garden of a character is often symbolic of the character’s spirituality such as it is in “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” “The Chrysanthemums,” and “Chronicle of Mulberry Tree Village.” Each of these stories is about the emotional journey of a

specific character. Yet, they each begin with a physical description of the garden, or the area surrounding it, immediately drawing the reader’s attention to the importance of the physical. The writers have already alerted the reader to the fact that the two are related.

“Rappaccini’s Daughter” is the story of Beatrice, the physical representation of the garden that she lives in. The descriptions of the garden and the “fierce, passionate and even unnatural” plants within are descriptions of the girl, who by the end of the story has become as poisonous as the flowers she tends to (Hawthorne 577). Hawthorne’s images of the garden near the beginning of the story tell of “a ruin of a marble fountain…so woefully shattered that it was impossible to trace the original design from the chaos of the remaining fragments” (569). The fountain, symbolic of Beatrice’s humanity, has been changed. At one time it had stood as a pristine sign of an “opulent family,” but now it is shattered and Beatrice’s humanity has been irrevocably damaged (569). She is now as much plant as she is human, the poison of the flowers coursing through her veins.

The physical walls of the garden, more than simply barrier to the physical world are representative of her separation from the human race. Through the eyes of Giovanni, the reader is able to experience the physical perfection of the garden, each plant carefully trimmed and cared for, much as Rappaccini has carefully created Beatrice and altered her ever so slightly until she became the hybrid creature she is in the story.

The garden is essential to Beatrice’s well-being because she draws her strength and, quite literally, her breath from the flowers. In addition to her physical dependency on them, Beatrice is emotionally linked to each flower. Giovanni witnesses her “approaching the shrub…with a passionate ardor,” much as one would a lover. The garden is Beatrice’s entire world, she has never stepped outside of the walls and thus she believes this garden to be perfect. She has known no life but that of the garden and her father. Through Rappaccini’s manipulations, she has become the only person who holds sway over these flowers. This keeps her from realizing that she is missing out on a normal life. This garden is her kingdom and her sovereignty over it allows her happiness, false though it may be.

Unlike Beatrice’s physical oppression, Elisa of “The Chrysanthemums” feels hindered by society and its rigid expectations of gender roles. As a woman, she feels she has no true power. She is, literally, fenced into her garden, a woman’s world, forced to watch as her husband conducts business on the outside. She is actually a quite pathetic character in this regard because she has even been denied the one exercise of power that is unique to women-- the ability to reproduce. This explains her unusual connection to her chrysanthemums. Elisa disguises herself as a man, wearing a man’s clothing and hiding her femininity in order to mask the shame she feels at her lack of accomplishment but still she is unable to