Books like Think of a Garden

OK, I’m a historian. I think the origins are interesting. Herman Melville’s book was there at the start of intruder tales. It is also a virtual time transformer, transporting the reader to a vivid other time and place. The narrative is based on Melville's experiences on the island of Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas Islands, where he deserted the ship to hang out. The prose, like Stevenson’s, has that considered, flowing, Victorian narrative style I find refreshing—the type of prose you wrote slowly with a quill pen.

This book and its subsequent sister volume Omoo were Melville’s most famous books in his lifetime, far better known than Moby Dick. It is considered a classic in travel and adventure literature.

This book is one of those books I reread every few years for the pleasure of Stevenson’s prose mastery and its richness in accurate detail of South Pacific Island existence.

RLS ranked this novella among his top accomplishments. Written in his final years at his home on the island of Upolu in Samoa, it is a lesson in the art of storytelling. Set on a small South Seas Island, it encapsulates in its tale of one white trader’s experience the essence of the human interface between two disparate cultures. While his In the South Seas journals more deeply explore the intricacies of island life, This book takes you there 150 years ago.

Before M*A*S*H and Catch 22, Michner’s book gave American readers a captivating view of the human side of U.S. soldiers and sailors at war in the South Pacific. This sequential series of interconnected short stories set in Vanuatu and the Solomon Islands works like the best TV mini-series. There are not just sailors and marines; there are locals and colonial characters. 

A great read. Don’t just take my word for it: it won a Pulitzer in 1947. And yes, the highly successful musical play South Pacific by Rodgers and Hammerstein is based on stories from this Michener classic. 

Look, if you have read this far about South Seas books—admit it—you would not mind going there, at least on the page and probably on the beach. I spent 26 years in the islands, and I can tell you that this book is the best travel guide for both the body and the imagination. I once reviewed all the available island handbooks for a newspaper column, after which I discarded all the rest.

For each island nation and territory, Stanley provides impeccably researched info on their history, government, economy, people, climate, geography, flora, and fauna, along with up-to-date tips on accommodations, services, events, and cautions. An encyclopedia of South Seas skivvy unmatched by its competitors.  

While learning who she is, Leslie, the lead character, makes choices based on her insecurities and those choices affect not only her, but the people around her. As she attempts to fix the mistakes she’s made, she is faced with some tough decisions. Her road to redemption will make you want to shake her back into reality. It’s a novel that will have you yelling at the book, as if Leslie is a friend and you want to help her. The characters are very relatable, they felt as if they could be people in your circle, or people you know in real life.

Not all archival work entails Indian Jones-style quests for hidden treasures; Steggle’s book—written at a crucial point when digital databases such as Early English Books Online and Google Books were accessible but rarely utilised to their maximum capabilities—proved how much crucial knowledge is hiding in plain sight. Steggle used a variety of search strategies to solve cruxes and mysteries that have plagued theatre historians for centuries, recovering the subject matter of lost plays that scholars routinely ignored on account of their opaque titles and scant evidence.

My journey to specialising in gender and revenge in ancient Athens began when I read this trilogy of tragedies by Aeschylus in the original ancient Greek. These plays captivated me because of their stunningly powerful and breathtakingly beautiful use of imagery and language.

The characters are equally striking, especially the clever and determined queen Clytemnestra, a ruthless and duplicitous killer who murders her husband in the bath. In turn, her son Orestes is faced with the dreadful prospect of killing his own mother to avenge the death of his father. Performing matricide brings forth the terrifying Erinyes, goddesses of vengeance, who demand that Orestes pay the price.

The powerful female characters and the dilemmas of the revenge plot are what make this trilogy one I return to time and time again.

Shakespeare’s tragedies resonate in most cultures because they address the human condition. That is why Romeo and Juliet have spawned West Side Story, many films, and Russian ballets. I personally organised the Joe and Zara workshop with a mixed group of teenagers working on a modern take on the story. The young people in this ten-minute video from the workshop are impressive. 

Othello too is tragic. Othello describes how Desdemona would come again ‘greedy –to hear tales of adventure sorrow and suffering. ‘She loved me for the dangers I had passed and I loved her that she did pity them.’ I relate to that.

I also love Eliot’s poetry (and his comments on the creative process) because of how different they are from Wordsworth’s—and equally profound. In essays including Tradition and the Individual Talent, Eliot argues that keeping your poetry “personal” artificially limits your material. And I think he’s right: some of my own best poems come from imagining my way into someone else’s mind.

Eliot’s own poetry, including The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, illustrates the value of this approach in how it crafts its titular character. Eliot can also write deeply intellectual poems like The Waste Land that transcend purely “personal” concerns by exploring history and that repay many re-readings. In addition to their thematic richness, Wordsworth’s and Eliot’s poems are also beautifully musical.

This book gives an excellent introduction to women’s involvement in theatre in the age of Shakespeare by making 6 of their texts easily available for the first time.

It publishes Queen Elizabeth I’s translation of a section by Seneca; The Tragedy of Antony (1595), a translation of a French play about Antony and Cleopatra by Mary Sidney Herbert, (aunt to Lady Mary Wroth).

It also publishes three original plays by women: Elizabeth Cary’s The Tragedy of Mariam (1613), The Concealed Fancies (1645), by the sisters Elizabeth Brackley and Jane Cavendish, and a valuable edition of Love’s Victory (but in a short section on p. 122 misprints the order of pages in the manuscript).

Cupid’s Banishment (1619) by Robert White is an entertainment, written to be performed by schoolgirls.