Lulah Ellender's garden in Sussex is an unruly but beloved place. It is also not permanently her own. When just a few weeks after losing her mother, Lulah is told that she and her family might have to leave the rented house that they have made their home, her immediate response is to freeze, to neglect the plants she has spent years cultivating. But before long she finds herself back in the garden, tidying, planning, and planting - putting down roots even though she may not be there to see the shoots emerge.
Drawing on her intimate knowledge of this small plot of land in Sussex, as well as her visits to the celebrated gardens close by - Charleston and Sissinghurst, among others - Lulah explores the broader relationship between gardener and garden. From artistic figures such as Vita Sackville-West, Virginia Woolf and Frida Kahlo to the long-gone inhabitants of a ruined village nearby, Lulah considers the ways in which tending the soil, growing plants, and tuning into the unceasing rhythms of nature can help us live with uncertainty and bring a sense of coming home, of feeling grounded, and ultimately of finding one's time-bound place here on Earth.
Lulah lives in East Sussex with her husband, four children and various animals. She loves to tend her garden, walk on the beautiful South Downs and swim outdoors.
Lulah Ellender has a garden in Sussex, but whilst she cares for it and is raising her four children there, it is not hers. Soon after the death of her mother, she gets notice that the current owners of the property are looking at selling and she is effectively on notice for her home.
It is one thing too many; she freezes, not wanting to invest time in the garden with the thought that she will lose that too. It doesn’t last long, Ellender is a woman who lives for her garden and she is soon planting, planning and pottering in the out there.
It does give her time to take stock of where they are, where they might be and what her actual priorities are. Tending her garden provide a framework of routine and joy and she harvests produce that she thought she would never see. All the time in the background is an uncertain future.
If you want a book about how the tangle of modern life can be soothed by gardens and gardening, then I can recommend this. It didn’t feel morbid, as sometimes these books can, rather the actor gardening gives those that do it a sense of optimism, and I thought it was the same here. The writing is gentle and conversational, so much so that I felt I was alongside Ellender in her garden helping cut plants back or sitting in the shade with a glass of something and talking about life the universe and everything. 3.5 stars
I was really excited for this book. I saw it on the table of GulpFiction and it seemed exactly what I was looking for. Having non-stop moved between rentals for 8 years now and having dipped my toe into gardening (albeit indoors or on a balcony) this book seemed perfect to learn more about other people's connection and healing through this past time. While I really loved the authors tone of voice and her writing is beautifull I somehow still felt it was lacking. While it was interesting to learn about other historical figures links to gardens it often times felt like a university essay where each statement or emotion of the authors than had to be backed by historical persons similar emotions. At somepoint I see how this would work and I really reaaaally can't point out why it didn't or why it didn't grip me as much as I was hoping it was. I also feel like maybe I wasn't the target audience. I've never had children and much of it was focused around motherhood and ageing and maybe I lacked that mutual bond to mothering someone to connect (although I feel like it has been done in other books and I still enjoy reading other peoples experiences, but for this reason I haven't rated it as I think it would be unfair). This took me a lot longer to read and by the end I was skimming from the point onwards of discussing placenta. I really hope someone enjoys this and I am sure others will. But just not for me unfortunately.
In this exquisitely written book, the fearful undercurrent of possibly losing her family’s rental home leads Lulah Ellender to literally and figuratively ‘dig deep’ as she struggles to maintain a connection to her place in the world. Using language I can only describe as poetic, she adroitly weaves the serenity of her garden with the chaos of the outside world. Despair is channelled into vegetable gardens and roses. Angst about failing her family fuels the taming of vigorous plantings, along with the considerations of sustaining the ecosystem. With every forkful of earth turned, Ms Ellender feels her maternal spirit coalesce with that of the universe. Readers will hold their breath at the uncertainty yet breathe in the soothing rhythm of the seasons all the more deeply for it.
I don’t typically turn down the corners of pages but there are so many passages I want to return to regularly in Grounding. It taps into my own search for home after many years living abroad. It speaks to my hiraeth and my gratitude at finally finding the place I am supposed to be. It speaks to my love of gardening, though this is not necessary to gain greatly from reading Grounding. I highly recommend this book for expats, those searching for home, and those who seek inspiration for their own gardens. I view my tiny speck of this planet – and my connection to it - differently now. Grounding is pure, fresh air in an uncertain world.
This is a lovely book and the setting is very local to me. The writer is grieving the loss of her mother and facing uncertainty about her rented house; she copes with both by grounding herself in her garden. There's some fascinating bits of local history, geography, tales of other gardens of writers, thoughts on parenting and aging,and, despite some angst, there is overall a great sense of calm. Other gardens visited include Great Dixter, Farley's Farmhouse, Sissinghurst, Charleston and Monks House. It's a fascinating book, largely imbued with a strong sense of wellbeing. Recommended!
I happened upon this at the library but after reading am keen to have a copy of my own. There were so many exquisite sentences I’d love to revisit and underline.
It didn’t feel cohesive to me, more of a meandering inner monologue, but perfect for winter nights dreaming of spring.
Beautiful writing and mandatory reading for anyone interested in their connection with the earth and place. A book that I will return to often. Please write a sequel Lulah.