In this day and age of instant communication, it's easy to forget that in times past it took people days or
weeks to share their thoughts and feelings with others. And given the current propensity for over-sharing that has taken over our social media culture, we are used to knowing what everyone is thinking all the time (whether we want to or not). But in the past, when people were expected to be more circumspect in their personal communication, they had to be creative about sharing their true feelings, especially with someone with whom they hoped to be romatically involved.
The Victorians developed a way to share their feelings of love, desire, and jealousy through the language of flowers. When it would have been inappropriate to tell a woman that you desired her with words, you could send her a bouquet of red roses, and your meaning would be clear. Eventually they developed a floral symbol for almost any emotion you can think of. Some of those meanings have carried over to today, but many have been lost. Vanessa Diffenbaugh uses this old-fashioned idea as the basis of her novel, The Language of Flowers. The main character, Victoria, is an 18 year old foster child. After having lived in group homes for most of her life, she is being emancipated. Without any family or resources, she quickly finds herself living in a public park. Victoria describes herself as misanthropic; she disdains personal connection, and wants only to spend her time cultivating the flowers that she loves. She eventually finds a job working as a florist, and becomes known in her San Francisco neighborhood for having the knack for choosing the perfect flowers for any occasion. She does this through her extensive knowledge of the language of flowers, which we discover over the course of the novel she learned from the one woman who ever showed her love or compassion as a child. As she navigates her first year on her own, she is forced to confront the pain and fear that has kept her from having the kind of connections with the people in her life that most of us take for granted.
I loved this book. I loved Victoria, not just in spite of her prickly nature but because of it. I loved that there were facts about and descriptions of flowers on nearly every page. I found myself completely sucked in to the world that Diffenbaugh created, to the point of losing all track of time in the real world. To me, this is the mark of a truly great story, when you are living so firmly in the fictional world the author has created that it feels more real that the world you are actually sitting in. After working for over 20 years in the public school system, I recognized students I have known over the years in Victoria. And I recognized myself and other adults I know in some of the people who try to help her. Most of the characters-her boss, her boyfriend, the woman who took her in as a child-all walk that fine line between accepting her for who she is and encouraging her to allow others into her lonely life. Diffenbaugh offers up a hopeful story of love, loss, and forgiveness that completely drew me in.