Of course, the title suggests only a handful of possible connotations tulip flowers may invoke. To my little surprise a lot of them are not extremely flattering. I would like to be understood correctly: flowers are morally neutral but they have great potential to trigger passionate emotions, which is not their fault, but only their mission. But we always need to find a culprit of our wrong choices and questionable expectations. That has been the case of tulip, whose CV contains numerous illustrations of greed, theft, treachery, misfortune and death, to name just a few. As an example, let us refer to the so- called "tulip-mania", an unusual period which took place in the 17th century, when tulip bulbs infested with viruses were as precious as gold and made whole nations go crazy. Nobody knew they were diseased but the craziness spread just like the virus itself. And the source of contamination has been active ever since, making us plant new tulip bulbs every fall, very often with little guarantee of seeing flowers. Strange, isn't it?
I am sure, a lot of tulip fans may disagree with this harsh and pessimistic opinion. But there are also those who could make the list of complaints longer. Today nobody is murdered because of infested tulip bulbs, which is OK. Nevertheless, I am always full of murderous feelings when in the spring I cannot see any tulips I planted the previous fall. And that is not OK!
We all know the wrongdoers: nasty furry rodents devouring tasty bulbs we inserted in the soil after long hours of careful studying the latest catalogues with stunning new (and expensive) tulip cultivars. But the bank voles are not the only ones good at shattering our plans and hopes. Severe frost spells, mole crickets, viruses, fungal diseases, strong winds and heavy rains can do their job too. Each time we decide to buy and plant beautiful tulips we get the above mentioned adversities in the pack.
The only remedy for the problem would be forgetting about tulips and planting narcissi instead. Their bulbs do not attract any rodents. I know, I know, this suggestion cannot be treated with due respect because tulips are simply irreplaceable (of course, they can be replaced with empty spaces) and it is really hard to imagine a spring flower bed without tulips of all sorts. So, all we can do is ascribe morally dubious characteristics to tulip plants to let off steam and buy a bag of precious old and new cultivars to exercise our determination again. Maybe this time we will be more lucky?
Today I suggest that we listen to a wonderful aria form Il Barbiere di Siviglia sung by Maria Callas. The aria and the matchless interpretation by Primadonna Assoluta can reflect some complex feelings tulips are ready to give freely.
We all know the wrongdoers: nasty furry rodents devouring tasty bulbs we inserted in the soil after long hours of careful studying the latest catalogues with stunning new (and expensive) tulip cultivars. But the bank voles are not the only ones good at shattering our plans and hopes. Severe frost spells, mole crickets, viruses, fungal diseases, strong winds and heavy rains can do their job too. Each time we decide to buy and plant beautiful tulips we get the above mentioned adversities in the pack.
The only remedy for the problem would be forgetting about tulips and planting narcissi instead. Their bulbs do not attract any rodents. I know, I know, this suggestion cannot be treated with due respect because tulips are simply irreplaceable (of course, they can be replaced with empty spaces) and it is really hard to imagine a spring flower bed without tulips of all sorts. So, all we can do is ascribe morally dubious characteristics to tulip plants to let off steam and buy a bag of precious old and new cultivars to exercise our determination again. Maybe this time we will be more lucky?
Today I suggest that we listen to a wonderful aria form Il Barbiere di Siviglia sung by Maria Callas. The aria and the matchless interpretation by Primadonna Assoluta can reflect some complex feelings tulips are ready to give freely.
Jarek
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