“GUILTY GARLIC”

Greymouth Evening Star, 28 April 1937, Page 13

“GUILTY GARLIC”

POOR MAN’S CURE-ALL. It takes courage to praise Charles Lamb’s “rank and guilty garlic.” A fixed conviction of the beauty of its flowers urges the plea that a tardy justice should be meted out to it. As a true daughter of Adam, I take as much pleasure in the kitchen garden as in gay flower beds and borders (says a writer in the “Melbourne Age”). This sunny morning I have been watching the tiny garlic flowers throw off their community night-caps (spathes), spreading themselves into great, spheres of silver and palest green, as they make their bid for the bee's favour.

There is no snobbishness about the bee. She exploits impartially about the bee. She exploits impartially the sweetest or flower or vegetable garden. The acrid scent of garlic is as sweet to her as that of the violet. The comparison is apt, for there is said to be some affinity between the two scents. A certain lily has the scent of violets until crushed.' when it smells of garlic! The violet-perfumed flowers of a cassia, make the breath smell of garlic! As I watched' the hosts of bees raiding my lilac globes of garlic flowers, the words of a medieval bee master seemed unconvincing. “It thou would’st win the favour of my bees that they sting thee not., thou must avoid such things as offend them; thou must not come among them having' a, (Stinking breath caused through eating leeks, onions, garleeke, and the like.” Apparently what is sauce for the bee must not be sauce for the beekeeper! .Looking at th.Q. globes of dainty flowers that sway from the tops of tall garlic stems, one appreciates the name Devil’s Posy. They really are great posies of small, but perfect, flowers. Tradition has it that, as Satan left the Garden of Eden, garlic sprang up from the soil which his right foot trod, and onions from that under his left fool. Thus garlic is one of the devil’s plants! With the shedding of their tall night caps the little garlic sun worshippers change their robes of silver and green to muted colours in amethyst and mauve. On the 10-feet stems they are certainly most decorative among the vegetables. Taking the bull by the horns, let me say at once that these haiypy maypoles might grace the flower borders. Why not? As a gardener who is eager to tryeverything. once. I shall support my view by planting a few bulbs in the flower beds! The lilac globes shall nod above cannas and i'ox-gloves. They shall issue a. challenge to the “crinkly-paper” flowers of tall hollyhocks. 1 may even smuggle a plant into the lily bed itself, (here to tower above its mon' regal relations, and bow to its dainty cousin, the blue scylla. Again, why not? The years of gardening have not fulfilled themselves if they bring not courage, as well as wisdom. Seeing it growing thus among its own lily aristocracy (.no may perhaps outgrow one’s prejudice against the “rani; and guilty garlic,” even as the gentle Elia outgrew his passion for roast pork. After all. why should there be a cultural fence between flowers and vegetables? No really lovable garden could be snobbish. One looks back with longing to the cottage gardens of our great-grandmothers, in which car-

dons and cabbages and Canterbury bells grew side by side; where stately garlic and lilies, pinks and marigolds all grew together in sweet confusion —unreasonable, perhaps, but wholly delightful.

FRIFNDLY CUSTOM

Most of our gardens have lost the friendly custom, and with it much of their grace and sweet simplicity. It takes all sorts of people to make a gardening ifraternitjf Surely there are some whose artistic sense is able to triumph over an admittedly unpleasant odour. Those who have little leisure to watch the changing colours of garlic flowers should cut them, while still in bud, and follow indoor the casting of tall, pointed dunces’ caps, the unfolding of delicate flowers. Should they make their presence felt, the water should be changed more frequently. There still exists an old belief in the influences of the moon upon plant growth. Tradition says that if planted at full moon the root of garlic grows round like an onion. If planted at any other time it grows in sections (cloves) like the quarters of an orange. Now, which had I done? I teased my memory in vain then ruthlessly unrooted a plant. Full moon, of course. There it was, smooth and round. Idly I stripped off the smooth outer coat —only to see seven triangular sections hcauGfully packed round the central stem, fitting as snugly as the quarters of an orange! Botany had triumphed over tradition!

It must be confessed that few people to-day eat garlic with, enthusiasm; yet, when Homer, the Greek poet who lived perhaps eight centuries and a-half before Christ, entertained his guests, yellow garlic (moly) had a place at the feast. Moreover, to placate Hecate, the infamous poisoner of ancient times, the Greeks placed a “supper” of garlic on piles of stones at cross-roads!

Throughout, the ages, garlic has been credited with magic powers. “While it is a sin an onion to devour, a clove of.garlic has a magic power.” So garlic keeps us from enchantments and other ills. If you spill salt, see a black crow or three magpies, walk under a ladder, have thirteen at table, use garlic for safety! Did not Ulysses resist the terrible potion of Circe, which changed his companions into swine, because Hermes had taught, him that yellow garlic was its antidote? According to many old herhals garlic possesses all the virtues. Galen, one of the greatest physicians of antiquity, eulogised it as the rustic’s theriac (heal-all). It. was known for centuries as poor-man’s “treacle”— a word which has lost its original meaning.

Only 400 years ago, treacle was Coverdale’s rendering of the word balm. (“Is there no treacle in Gilead?”). And for this reason his bible was often referred to as the Treacle Bible. Garlic was one of the 400 simples of the great Greek physician, Hippocrates, the father •of medicine. Half of those simples are in use to-day! On the other hand, Gerard’, tho 15th century author of one of tho most beautifully written herhals in existence, affirms that garlic “yields no nourishment at all; it engendered! naughty and sharp blood.’’

In spite of Gerard’s condemnation, many writers praise its usefulness in

treating numerous ailments. In China, for centuries, hay-fever and asthma have been attacked with garlic. It is used, too, in treating pulmonary complaints. It was so much used during the Middle Ages for leprosy that a leper was called a pilgaric (peel garlic). Some writers interpret the word different. Many of garlic’s alleged virtues may be accepted. Others are merely ludicrous. According to the ancient Doctrine of Signatures the usefulness of plants is seen in certain signs, or signatures, on leaf stem, flower, sod', or fruit. Garlic has a hollow stem, so it is useful in affections of the throat! The seed is black, therefore it dims the sight! We admit that garlic is not popular. Its claim to our favour is great l ly discounted by the sin of its smell. Shakespeare was especially unkind to it, and makes Dorcas recommend it to Clown to mend Mopsa’s kissing with!

We admit that garlic is picturesque and useful. Away, then, with prejudice. Why not reinstate a muchabused plant of tradition and healing? Let it bloom among the lilies!