10-07-2025
- General
- Wall Street Journal
‘The Accidental Garden' Review: Cultivating Unexpected Beauty
In more than 40 books written over several decades, Richard Mabey has chronicled his exploration of woods, fields and gardens throughout his native Britain. Now in his 80s, Mr. Mabey is more inclined these days to amble close to the home that he shares with his partner, Polly, in Norfolk, a largely rural region in eastern England.
Their 16th-century farmhouse rests on two acres that Mr. Mabey navigates with a walking stick, which has 'also evolved into a prosthesis, and a kind of wand,' he tells readers of 'The Accidental Garden.' He uses it to 'turn over leaves to see what's underneath, push stray seeds into the ground, move a little foliage to give a primrose flower a glimpse of the sun.'
As a writer, Mr. Mabey is a quizzical poker and prodder, too—peeking beneath stray bits of orthodoxy wisdom to puzzle out their imperfections, tapping popular assumptions to test their truth, sometimes giving the pious certitudes of modern conservation a modest thump.
The book's title underscores Mr. Mabey's belief that, regardless of a gardener's choices, a plant often grows how and where it prefers. 'I'm writing this in my library as a more conventional source of garden beauty is slowly blocking out the light,' he mentions. 'A shrub rose called Etoile d'Hollande is fanning out across the downstairs windows and tiptoeing up to the bedrooms.' It is in keeping with Mr. Mabey's style to regard a rose as not merely an idyllic presence but an insistent one—a visitor that shrouds the author in both beauty and darkness.
