Those pure-looking Easter lilies once had saucier connotations
Consider the Easter lily. This lovely flower has become indelibly associated with the Christian church, because its pristine white petals are said to symbolize the virginal innocence of the Virgin Mary.
An appropriate allusion? Yes, certainly. Yet here’s a titillating bit of trivia: To the ancient Greeks or Romans, this lily was anything but pure. Instead, it represented Venus, the goddess of love, and inspired not spiritual contemplation, but “lustful ardour.” Both cultures contain raunchy legends about romping satyrs having their carnal way with it — perhaps not surprising, if you examine one close up.
The stamens at the centre of each big, horn-shaped bloom (along with the male part, known as the pistil) are particularly long and prominent in Easter lilies. And they can wave around in a provocative way, especially in a breeze.
The Greeks and Romans thought this looked suggestive. Later on, even some Christians did. During Queen Victoria’s reign, British clergymen were actually ordered to remove the stamens and pistils from Easter lilies before placing them on church altars. The prevailing sentiment was that leaving these protuberances in place might incite some members of the congregation to conjure up “impure thoughts.”
I’m not making this up, folks. The Victorians were that prissy. And nowadays, even though we’ve outgrown such peculiar notions, these flowers can still inspire a sense of awe. Their blooms are so voluptuous, so silky, so exquisitely shaped. They also exude a powerful perfume that might be considered erotic or heavenly, depending upon your point of view.
What I find remarkable is that they are now accessible to everyone. The original, idolized kind, Lilium candidum, is believed to have been the first “domesticated” flower (meaning that it was the first to be cultivat- ed) and for centuries, it was rare, expensive and highly-prized.
Yet back in the 1920s an upstart look-alike from Japan, called Lilium longiflorum, burst on the scene. This is the kind of Easter lily that’s now grown by the millions in greenhouses around the world — and it closely resembles the original version.
Here in Ontario, we’re lucky. We can buy super fresh specimens from Niagara that don’t have to travel far. They’re raised by indefatigable Dutchmen with unpronounceable names like Ed Boekestyn (rhyme the last syllable with “wine”) who owns a 50,000-sq.-ft. operation at Jordan Station. But he admits that Easter lily-making is far from a snap.
“The most difficult part is the timing,” he explains. “Obviously, no one wants to buy them three weeks before Easter or three weeks afterwards.”
As a result, his staff have to monitor each specimen daily.
Blackout curtains need to be lowered if they’re growing too fast — and the whole rigmarole of watering, fertilizing and pinching out is no easy feat when you’re dealing with thousands of plants. A few tips about Easter lilies: Look for specimens with tight, closed buds.
Each plant should have at least five buds. Those with fewer are classified as seconds, and should cost less.
Be patient. Easter lily blooms open one at a time, in sequence. Don’t expect a lot of flowers all at once, because that never happens.
By all means, plant your lily in a sheltered spot in the garden after it has bloomed. I did this once, but no more. Mine produced only one measly flower the following year, and it took up valuable space.
These lilies are now amazingly cheap, so it makes sense to support our hardworking growers. Buy a new one every year and compost it afterwards.
Note: many titillating facts about flowers are described in Sonia’s award-winning book, The Untamed Garden: A Revealing Look at Our Love Affair With Plants, published by McClelland & Stewart. Available at amazon.ca. soniaday.com