In her latest work, Olivia Laing embarks on a captivating journey intertwined with the life of a garden she inherits during lockdown. Delving into its rich history and her own personal narrative, she endeavors to carve out a future centered around this newfound sanctuary. Drawing inspiration from other gardens and their caretakers, she navigates the landscape, learning valuable lessons from their successes and failures.

Examining the hidden stories beneath seemingly idyllic gardens, Laing reflects on the profound influence these green spaces, both real and imagined, have had on our relationship with nature and existence itself. Her prose is graceful, enchanting, and astute, weaving a tapestry of romance, introspection, and intellect.

I found myself enraptured by the elegance and depth of her exploration. It's a testament to Laing's skill that she seamlessly blends beauty with insight, leaving a lasting impression on the reader.

The Garden Against Time is not what I was expecting even after reading the book blurbs. I enjoyed all the parts that actually talked about plants, flowers, nature and historic English gardens. I thought the book would be similar to The Last Garden in England by Julia Kelley (which I loved), but alas it isn't.
I walk in nature and reminisce of the natural world to gain a sense of calm and peace therefore all the politically charged bits were a put off for me. Ultimately, this was not the book I was expecting.

I just finished reading The Garden Against Time by Olivia Laing. I found it fascinating, meandering, at times dense, at times alienating. Lists of plant names in Latin don’t do much for me, but I can imagine they spark inspiration or at least recognition for many others. Far from the technical, scientific side of things, gardens have always represented for me a place of solitude and peace. I once planted my own small garden and cut a simple fort into the wall of faux bamboo along the edge of the yard, hoping I could sleep out there on the bed made from the stalks I had cut down. It soon filled with maggots, and not long after that, we moved away. Since then, my life has been more transient, further removed from the earth, and I’ve only grown potted plants.

These universal garden themes – secluded utopias, paradise lost, and accessibility to land – run through Laing’s book like tree roots popping up here and there, everything connected underneath it all. Drawing from literature, local and global history, current events such as the pandemic and climate change, and even personal anecdotes and relationships, she weaves together a loose narrative about the historical injustices and the idealistic possibilities associated with gardens — enclosed or open.

Much of the contextual material was eye-opening and educational. From colonial abuses of power and money to the origins of communism and the battle against fascism, gardens have – and continue to – played a major role in the way society and our planet operate. But perhaps due to Laing’s particular writing style, the passages that rang truest to me came from her own garden journey and observations of her surroundings. Amidst all the jargon and rose species, the Britishisms and the names of famous gardeners, the candor of sentences like these kept me engaged:

“I’ve always loved the winter solstice, just as I find the summer solstice weirdly disturbing. How can the light be diminishing, before summer’s even got into gear? It feels as if everything’s over before it’s even started (pg 107).”

It's true. There’s something so poignant about summer evenings, as gorgeous as they are, knowing they are already shortening every day toward the end of the year. We can all relate to this sentiment on a personal level. Visiting a garden, a park, or any patch of wildlife can give us the time and space not only to have silly little thoughts like these, but also to connect to the natural world and its seasons while they’re still around. Plus, gardens are a crucial puzzle piece in the fight against biodiversity loss.

Despite the fact that I didn’t always fully grasp what she was talking about, as insinuated above, I don’t want to imply that Laing is pretentious or snobby. On the contrary, she is a highly informed, deep-thinking activist who follows her passions and convictions in life and writing. If the book doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, don’t feel pressured to read it. But if you have the chance to visit or help create a garden soon, maybe don’t pass it up!

I feel a little conflicted about this one. On the one hand, it's incredibly interesting, beautifully written, and approaches the idea of the garden in a really cool, fascinating way. On the other hand, it's a pretty fatiguing read, especially by the end, and not just because of some of the bleak subject matter. Every chapter goes like this: establishing shot of Laing's garden-in-progress, current problems with the garden and/or world, and wouldn't you know, now Laing's reading something that perfectly coincides with the above. It was just so samey, even if whatever Laing was reading turned out to be interesting too. I think maybe if this hadn't been done for every chapter, or if the book was a little shorter it wouldn't have bothered me so much, but as it is it did get a little taxing, especially near the end.

That said, I do think I'm going to come to down on the side of a higher rating because I do feel like I learned something reading this and it did make me look at the gardens and places around my home in a fresh way. If you like Laing's other work (or gardens!) I think it's pretty certain you'll like this.

Thanks to NetGalley and W.W. Norton for the ARC!

Olivia Laing’s "The Garden Against Time" is a carefully manicured reflection on the garden as a social symbol and site of class demarcation, but it occasionally gets a little too lost in the weeds.

If you’ve read the marketing copy for this book, you already know that Laing began an 18th-century garden restoration project during the pandemic. It’s a starting point that seems like it should be fruitful; however, like many projects born during COVID, "The Garden Against Time" struggles with the tension between interiority and insularity, unfortunately skewing toward the latter. Laing’s usual preoccupations just don’t seem to fit within their framing device here, as the isolated origin of the work makes many of the author’s sociological observations feel more voyeuristic than astute.

"The Garden Against Time" seems to celebrate the garden as a site of escapism while also suggesting it’s an impossibility. Laing offers lush descriptions, treating readers to sensorial delights—I could almost smell the soil and taste the pollen hanging in the air—before interrupting them with discussions of history and politics. Sometimes, they work to shed light on the history of land access and ownership—I also loved all the material about Derek Jarman—but often they read like unexpected digressions. While this approach feels masterful and holistic in a book like "Everybody," here it feels less focused—like someone sharing every fact that comes to mind after a wikipedia deep dive. Or, to use some garden imagery, it feels like an invasive species.

Perhaps these complaints are a matter of faulty expectations, but the book feels like it was written as a way to pass the endless, shapeless hours of the early 2020s. It never blooms beyond feeling like a COVID curio—cumbersomely divided, with its political distance in tension with its earthy intimacy. In the end, it’s disappointing because it feels like there are two great versions of "The Garden Against Time" if Laing picked a focus and an editor trimmed 50-100 pages. Even so, there’s still much to appreciate here, and I recommend the book to readers who understand what they are signing up for.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC!

Full Rating: 4.5 stars rounded up

In "The Garden Against Time: In Search of a Common Paradise," Olivia Laing delves into the lush terrain of gardens with a keen eye for the political, the personal, and the profound. Through a masterful exploration of paradise, queerness, and famous English gardens, Laing invites readers on a journey that transcends mere horticulture, delving deep into community care and our relationships with land.

Laing's narrative is a rich tapestry, woven with threads of history, literature, and social critique. With an unwavering gaze, they dismantle our preconceived notions of gardens as mere patches of greenery, revealing them instead as battlegrounds of power and resistance. Through Laing's lens, gardens emerge as sites of both cultural memory and radical possibility, challenging us to rethink our relationship with nature and each other.

What sets "The Garden Against Time" apart is its unflinching commitment to liberation. Laing refuses to sanitize the unruliness of nature, instead celebrating its wild, untamed beauty. In their exploration of Edenic myths and Milton's "Paradise Lost," they offer a searing critique of capitalism and colonialism, exposing how these systems have shaped our understanding and expectations of paradise.

“The Garden Against Time” moves beyond mere critique to echo calls for solidarity and collective liberation. Through Laing's story of restoring their own garden, we are reminded of the transformative power of tending to the land and tending to ourselves. They skillfully navigate the intersections of class, race, and gender, illuminating how gardens often reflect the power dynamics of the societies that tend them.

In conclusion, "The Garden Against Time" is a tour de force that transcends genre and expectation. With luscious prose and incisive analysis, Olivia Laing invites us to reimagine our relationship with the natural world and each other. This book is not just a garden; it is a sanctuary, a refuge, and a call to arms. As Laing instructs, “Take it outside and shake the seed.”

📖 Recommended For: Advocates for Environmental Justice, Intersectional Activists, Readers Challenging Colonial Narratives, Seekers of Personal Narratives with Political Impact, Fans of Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass.

🔑 Key Themes: Environmental Justice and Political Liberation, Deconstructing Colonialist Ideals of Paradise, Interconnectedness of Nature and Power Dynamics, Resilience and Healing Through Gardening.

Content / Trigger Warnings: War (moderate), forced institutionalization (minor), cancer (minor), pandemic (moderate)

I found this interesting, but it certainly wasn’t my usual book nor a style that I particularly enjoy. The book is written as though it itself is a walk through a garden, meandering and pausing for a rest, for a snack, to feel the softness of new petals or to breathe in the scent of the budding rose.

I found it boring in many parts, simply because I’m not drawn to discussions of historical gardens, nor celebrity figures, nor landscaping in general, and little of the referenced poetry moved me.

I do like a garden, however, and I much enjoy a deep dive into the etymology of linguistic terms; the connection to slavery I also found more interesting.

Overall for me this was a bare 3/5, but I expect others may love it; it just wasn’t my preferred flavour.

With thanks to NetGalley for the free eARC. All opinions are my own.

I loved getting to read about a restoration of a garden. It was a wonderfully done story and I enjoyed getting to read about this. Olivia Laing writes a strong story and I enjoyed going on this journey.

Once again, Laing has written a book that thoughtfully intertwines personal essay with rich historical context, this time on the subject of gardens. I was looking forward to this book as a gardener and also as a lover of Olivia Laing's past books (particularly Trip to Echo Springs). Laing's prose about the garden was full of rich sensory details that drew me in ("By mid-October the rain had stopped and there was a succession of buttery yellow days."), and her acknowledgment of the privilege of who can own and access land, the exploited labor of those who made some famous English gardens possible, as well as the critical look at the literary context of Paradise captured great nuance. My only criticism is that many of the names Laing pulled into this work I was unfamiliar with (US read here). Nevertheless, I've added them to my list to research and it was such a delightful read that has me excited for warmer days in the garden. I recommend this book to anyone who even wishes they had a green thumb or who resonates with what I consider the thesis of Laing's book "We need gardens and the life they support established everywhere if we are to survive..."

This was a lovely book. I never expected to get so much Queer English gardener history, but I loved it!