Pink (Dianthus) … Pure love
Plum (Prunus domestica) … Keep your promises
Poinsettia (Euphorbia pulcherrima) … Be of good cheer
Polyanthus (Primula) … Confidence
Pomegranate (Punica granatum) … Foolishness
Pomegranate blossom (Punica granatum) … Mature elegance
Poplar, black (Populus nigra) … Courage
Poplar, white (Populus alba) … Time
Poppy (Papaver) … Fantastic extravagance
Potato (Solanum tuberosum) … Benevolence
Potato vine (Solanum jasminoides) … You are delicious
Primrose (Primula) … Childhood
Protea (Protea) … Courage
Purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) … Strength and health
Queen Anne’s lace (Ammi majus) … Fantasy
Quince (Cydonia oblonga) … Temptation
Ranunculus (Ranunculus asiaticus) … You are radiant with charms
Raspberry (Rubus) … Remorse
Redbud (Cercis) … Betrayal
Rhododendron (Rhododendron) … Beware
Rhubarb (Rheum) … Advice
Rose, burgundy (Rosa) … Unconscious beauty
Rose, moss (Rosa) … Confession of love
Rose, orange (Rosa) … Fascination
Rose, pale peach (Rosa) … Modesty
Rose, pink (Rosa) … Grace
Rose, purple (Rosa) … Enchantment
Rose, red (Rosa) … Love
Rose, white (Rosa) … A heart unacquainted with love
Rose, yellow (Rosa) … Infidelity
Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis) … Remembrance
Saffron (Crocus sativus) … Beware of excess
Sage (Salvia officinalis) … Good health and long life
Saint-John’s-wort (Hypericum perforatum) … Superstition
Saxifraga (Saxifraga) … Affection
Scabiosa (Scabiosa) … Unfortunate love
Scarlet Pimpernel (Anagallis arvensis) … Change
Snapdragon (Antirrhinum majus) … Presumption
Snowdrop (Galanthus) … Consolation and hope
Sorrel (Rumex acetosa) … Parental affection
Speedwell (Veronica) … Fidelity
Spirea (Spiraea) … Victory
Star-of-Bethlehem (Ornithogalum umbellatum) … Purity
Starwort (Stellaria) … Welcome
Stephanotis (Stephanotis floribunda) … Happiness in marriage
Stock (Malcolmia maritima) … You will always be beautiful to me
Stonecrop (Sedum) … Tranquility
Strawberry (Fragaria) … Perfection
Sunflower (Helianthus annuus) … False riches
Sweet briar (Rosa rubiginosa) … Simplicity
Sweet pea (Lathyrus odoratus) … Delicate pleasures
Sweet William (Dianthus barbatus) … Gallantry
Tansy (Tanacetum) … I declare war against you
Thistle, common (Cirsium) … Misanthropy
Thrift (Armeria) … Sympathy
Thyme (Thymus) … Activity
Trachelium (Trachelium) … Neglected beauty
Trumpet vine (Campsis radicans) … Fame
Tuberose (Polianthes tuberosa) … Dangerous pleasures
Tulip (Tulipa) … Declaration of love
Turnip (Brassica rapa) … Charity
Verbena (Verbena) … Pray for me
Vetch (Vicia) … I cling to thee
Violet (Viola) … Modest worth
Wallflower (Cheiranthus) … Fidelity in adversity
Water lily (Nymphaea) … Purity of heart
Waxflower (Hoya) … Susceptibility
Wheat (Triticum) … Prosperity
White Monte Casino (Aster) … Patience
Willow herb (Epilobium) … Pretension
Winter cherry (Physalis alkekengi) … Deception
Wisteria (Wisteria) … Welcome
Witch hazel (Hamamelis) … A spell
Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) … Cure for a broken heart
Zinnia (Zinnia) … I mourn your absence
Author’s Note
When I began The Language of Flowers, I owned only one flower dictionary: The Floral Offering: A Token of Affection and Esteem; Comprising the Language and Poetry of Flowers, written in 1851 by Henrietta Dumont. It was an ancient, crumbling hardcover, with dry flowers pressed between the pages. Scraps of poetry, collected by previous owners and stored between the yellowed pages, slipped to the floor as I scanned the book for meanings.
Three chapters into Victoria’s story, I myself made the discovery of the yellow rose. In the table of contents at the beginning of Ms. Dumont’s beautiful book, the yellow rose appears as jealousy. Hundreds of pages later, in the very same book, the yellow rose appears again: this time as infidelity.
Reading through the book more carefully, I found no explanation for the discrepancy, so I went in search of additional dictionaries, hoping to determine the “correct” definition of the yellow rose. Instead, I found that the problem was not specific to the yellow rose; nearly every flower had multiple meanings, listed in hundreds of books, in dozens of languages, and on countless websites.
The dictionary included here was created in the manner in which Victoria compiled the contents of her boxes. Lining up dictionaries on my dining room table—The Flower Vase by Miss S. C. Edgarton, Language of Flowers by Kate Greenaway, The Language and Sentiment of Flowers by James D. McCabe, and Flora’s Lexicon by Catharine H. Waterman—I scanned the meanings, selecting the definition that best fit the science of each flower, just as Victoria would have done. Other times, when I could find no scientific reason for a definition, I chose the meaning that occurred most often or, occasionally, simply the one I liked best.
My goal was to create a usable, relevant dictionary for modern readers. I deleted plants from the Victorian dictionaries that are no longer common, and added flowers that were rarely used in the 1800s but are more popular today. I kept most food-related plants, as Victoria would have, and deleted most nonflowering trees and shrubs because, as Victoria says, there is nothing wistful about the passing of sticks or long strips of bark.
I am grateful for the assistance of Stephen Zedros of Brattle Square Florist in Cambridge and Lachezar Nikolov at Harvard University. This dictionary would not exist without their vast knowledge and generous support.
For PK
Acknowledgments
In a book filled with mother-daughter relationships, I would like to thank my own mother first: Harriet Elizabeth George, a strong, brave woman who learned to be a mother through purposeful study, fierce love, and a community of support. My relentless optimism and belief in the possibility of creating positive change, both internally and externally, would not exist without her.
I would also like to thank the community of women who mothered me: my stepmother, Melinda Vasquez; my mother-in-law, Sarada Diffenbaugh; my grandmothers, Virginia Helen Fleming, Victoria Vasquez, Irene Botill, Adelle Tomash, Carolyn Diffenbaugh, and Pearl Bolton; and the fathers in my life, for making each of us better mothers: my own father, Ken Fleming; my stepfather, Jim Botill; my father-in-law, Dayanand Diffenbaugh; my brother-in-law Noah Diffenbaugh; and my husband, PK Diffenbaugh. I wouldn’t have had the knowledge, confidence, or time to write this book without all of your love and support.
I am grateful to my early readers and dear friends: Maureen Wanket believed in this book and in my potential from the very first page, and her belief was contagious; Tasha Blaine read my first draft and told me the truth—I will love her for it, forever; Angela Booker sat next to me and encouraged me as I rewrote the end—again, and again, and again; Jennifer Jacoby and Lindsey Serrao talked me through the storms of my own motherhood and inspired me with their joyful mothering; Polly Diffenbaugh taught me to dissect a flower and use a field guide, and (more than once) lectured me on the intricacies of scientific classification; Jennifer Olden shared her
expertise on attachment disorder; Priscillia de Muizon told me lovely, vivid stories of her childhood on a vineyard; Janay Swain answered my endless questions about foster care; Barbara Tomash sat beside me on the edge of Papa’s lake and dreamed up section titles; Rachel McIntire painted the blue room and shared the inner workings of the floral-arranging world; Mark Botill inspired me with his intelligence and humor; Amanda Garcia, Carrie Marks, Isis Keigwin, Emily Olavarri, and Tricia Stirling read my first draft and told me to keep writing; Wendi Everett, Wendi Imagire, Tami Trostel, Josie Bickinella, Sara Galvan, Sue Malan, and Kassandra Grossman loved my babies and gave me time to write; and Christie Spencer cried over my plot summary and reminded me of the power of a good story.
My agent, Sally Wofford-Girand, is the person responsible for seeing the potential in my early drafts and pushing me to be better. I will never be able to thank her enough for her vision, encouragement, and commitment to this book. Jenni Ferrari-Adler made me think about pacing, character, and plot just when I thought I was done (and I was, of course, far from done!), and Melissa Sarver kept us all focused and motivated. Jennifer Smith, my brilliant editor at Ballantine, has made this book immeasurably better through her careful reads and wise suggestions. She has been a delight to work with from the very beginning.
I would like to thank my writing teachers, in the order they appeared in my life: Charlotte Goldsmith, for teaching me to write letters in a tray of sand; Linda Holm, for giving me a journal and demanding I fill it; Chris Persson, for reading my first short story, telling me I was a writer, and then helping me to become one; and Keith Scribner and Jennifer Richter, who, in addition to teaching me much of what I know about writing, helped me survive college by offering me a glimpse into their own lives as young writers, teachers, and parents.
Finally, I would like to thank my children, for teaching me to be a mother and loving me through my mistakes: Tre’von, Chela, Miles, Donavan, Sharon, Krystal, Wayneshia, Infinity, and Hope. And Megan, wherever you are.
About the Author
Vanessa Diffenbaugh was born in San Francisco and raised in Chico, California. After studying creative writing and education at Stanford, she went on to teach art and writing to youth in low-income communities. She and her husband, PK, have three children: Tre’von, eighteen; Chela, four; and Miles, three. Tre’von, a former foster child, is attending New York University on a Gates Millennium Scholarship. Diffenbaugh and her family currently live in Cambridge, Massachusetts, where her husband is studying urban school reform at Harvard.
In the language of flowers, camellia means my destiny is in your hands. Author Vanessa Diffenbaugh is launching the Camellia Network in order to create a nationwide movement to support youth making the transition from foster care to independence.
www.camellianetwork.org
Discussion Questions for
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
1. What potential do Elizabeth, Renata, and Grant see in Victoria that she has a hard time seeing in herself?
2. While Victoria has often been hungry and malnourished in her life, food ends up meaning more than just nourishment to her. Why?
3. Victoria and Elizabeth both struggle with the idea of being part of a family. What does it mean to you to be part of a family? What defines family?
4. Why do you think Elizabeth waits so long before trying to patch things up with her long-lost sister, Catherine? What is the impetus for her to do so?
5. The first week after her daughter’s birth goes surprisingly well for Victoria. What makes her feel unable to care for her child after that week ends? And what is it that allows her eventually to rejoin her family?
6. One of the major themes in The Language of Flowers is forgiveness and second chances. Do you think Victoria deserves a second chance after the things she has done (both as a child and as an adult)? What about Catherine? And Elizabeth?
7. What did you think of the structure of the book: the alternating chapters in the past and the present? In what ways did the two storylines parallel each other, and how did they diverge?
8. The novel touches on many different themes (love, family, forgiveness, second chances). Which do you think is the most important? And what do you think was the ultimate lesson?
9. At the end of the novel, Victoria learns that moss grows without roots. What does this mean, and why is it such a revelation for her?
10. Based on your reading of the novel, what are your impressions of the foster-care system in America? What could be improved?
11. Knowing what you now know about the language of flowers, to whom would you send a bouquet and what would you want it to say?