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469 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 18, 2017
Lord Woldingham's fancy to enclose his park in a great ring of stone. Other potentates are content to impose their will on nature only in the immediate purlieus of their palace. They make gardens where they may saunter, enjoying the air without fouling their shoes. But once one steps outside the garden fend one is in, on most of England's great estates, in territory where travellers may pass and animals are harassed by huntsmen, certainly, and slain for meat, but where they are free to range where they will.
Not so here at Wychwood. My task is to create an Eden encompassing the house, so that the garden will be only the innermost chamber of an enclosure so spacious that, for one living in it, the outside world, with its shocks and annoyances, will be but a memory .... Lord Woldingham’s creatures will live confined within an impassable barricade. ....
I wonder are we making a second Paradise here, or a prison .... or a fortress.
I will lay out the story as coherently as I can, now that enough time has passed for me to arrive at a sense of it. I do not pretend to understand it all.
They’re watching the wrong house. The wrong race. For people here it looks as though, all of my lifetime, the world has been cut by a slash that run through Berlin. East/West Communist/Capitalist Soviet/American. Now that the cut is closing and everyone is getting ready to celebrate, as though once all’s right with Europe, then all’s right the world. Have they forgotten what bought me here? These ideological disputes between two sets of White Westerners can perhaps be resolved. Not so the antipathy between those who are harbouring me and those who would have me stoned”
Like ancient Sparta, a prison is a two-tier community in which one group is vastly better off than the other, but in which no one is free. The relations between the two orders create a complex pattern of mutual dependency and mutual fear. The resulting tensions avoid numerous opportunities for a determined individual to create a special status for himself….
Francesca was reading Nell’s draft report: “People removed from society at large are driven to replicate its structures in minature. They have their own hierarchies and heroes"
Prisons are communities, Pathological communities for the most part. They have hierachies and conventions. They suit some people. Some prisoners – just a few – dread their release. Inside, those ones are dominant
[Helen] talked about gardens in a way that was probably a coded comment on Selim’s predicament. About enclosure and exclusion and confinement. She said “You know the East Germans call the Berlin Wall the “Protection Wall”? Some of the probably believe that’s what it is. We think they’re imprisoned, but they just think they’re safe. Gardens and prison camps, they have a lot in common”
Frontiers are drawn on maps as lines, but in experience they are broad smudges, gradual transitions… Yet here was a nation throwing up a palpable wall along an impalpable division. It was eerie. The materialisation of the imaginary. A haunting.
An enclosed community is toxic,” she says. “It festers. It stagnates. The wrong people thrive there. The sort of people who actually like being walled in.”