Barberry
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded on 27 May 2006
By sandysshots
Sometimes the most commonplace of things deserve good close consideration. They are by definition the easiest to overlook. While this is generally true, I'm thinking about my garden, and the numerous legacy shrubs with a burgundy hue: Barberry - Genus: Berberis.
Because of their ubiquity, they have become (in my mind) almost plebeian players in the 'garden center' hierarchy: cheap and cast about on non-prime tiers. They are the kind of thing I've walked past hundreds of times. In my mind, Barberry has become a "Contractor Plant," unworthy of the "special" gardens I aspire to create and live my solitary life amongst.
But of course I am wrong, terribly wrong. Barberry is spectacular. All I needed to do was look more closely.
Barberries
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded on 17 December 2006
By smantrom
My first berberine[1] thought (concerning the Berberis name anyway) was that perhaps this plant had something to do with the Berber peoples of North Africa, but I can find no such connection. The answer is much simpler. (Linnæus didn't reach too far on this one.) Berberis means "Barberry." It is "the Latinized form of the Arabic name for the fruit" [iii] - which is edible and apparently very popular in Iran where it (the fruit, dried) is called "Zereshk."
Zereshk
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded on 27 February 2007
By bazudaiku
The berries are apparently sour and taste good with chicken. I've also seen Jams and Jellies.[2]
"Zereshk (زرشک) is the Persian name for the dried fruit of barberries, which are widely cultivated in Iran."[iv]
In fact, a Barberry garden is called a zereshkestan[v] - with "- stan" being the Persian designator for "place of." Zereshkestan = Place of the Barberries.
For some reason, this is very agreeable to my ears.[3]
I gather the Persian language is rife with this sort of thing. A rose garden is a "Place of the Roses" (gulistan (گلستان)) and a desert is a "Place of Sand" (rigestan (ريگستان)).[vi] "Stans" are all over the news today. I'd never bothered to ask myself about it, so I'm delighted that Barberries led me down the path.
A zereshkestan must be particularly beautiful because a true zereshkestan yields two crops: Barberries and Saffron. Imagine that!
"Zereshk is the fruit of a type of barberry bush. Zereshk and saffron are produced on the same land and the harvest is at the same time. The southern part of Khorasan is the main area of zereshk production."[vii]
Imagine that sight: a field of Barberry and Saffron Crocus (Crocus sativus).
Saffron crocus
Flickr Photo Originally
Uploaded on 21 October 2006
By kightp
Photographers caption: "Crocus sativus. The red stamens seen on the
left bloom are the more-precious-than-gold safffron threads, prized by cooks
everywhere. Stamens have already been plucked from the bloom on the right. The
half-dozen corms planted in my front garden bed three years ago have multipled
to the point where I've harvested nearly a tablespoon of threads this year -
enough for several risottos, paellas and other dishes in the months
ahead."
My friend, Bruce, at the Belltown Bent, grew a "crop" of saffron in his Seattle 'condo in the sky'… but I don't know what became of that crop. I bet there's some good photos someplace. But really, (with the exception of Bruce's efforts) Seattle is not known for saffron production.
"Iran is the largest producer of zereshk and saffron in the world."[viii]
(I can't think of a more tedious harvest though.)
This is an image captioned "A Farm In Iran." I found it here.
But it doesn't look like much of an
agricultural situation to me. It's
beautiful though. I'm guessing the
drifts are snow but maybe sand. I
can't find an image of a zereshkestan.
-
The snowdrifts are gone now in my part of the world and I couldn't be happier. Everything is green and blue. And Red and Yellow. See, this is my first spring in an old house planted with Barberry. The more I look at them, the harder I fall.
And I can't stop buying more.
Barberry With Bubbles 2
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded on 29 May 2005
By photo fiddler
"Why More?" one might wonder.
The answer is simple: Berberis is an incredibly diverse Genus of plants, there are 450 to 500 species. Some are very small and compact, some reach 15 feet tall (or more), some are lovely burgundy red, some are gold, some are variegated, some are green, some are deciduous and some are evergreen, some bear fruit, some do not, some have herbal or medicinal qualities and some have thorns.
Paraphrasing Tom Wilson, we can complain because Barberries have thorns, or we can rejoice because thorns have Barberries.[4]
Yep…
My hands are full of thorns… unfestering things that only irritate when I reach in a pocket for keys… or scratch a dog's belly. Not so bad. Rather, appropriate actually.
In Western Culture, Thorns = Sin.
After all, when Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit and were cast out of Eden, God said to Adam (according to the King James Bible):
"Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed is the ground for thy sake; (Genesis 3:17)
in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; (3:18)
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."(3:19)
And this is when we all became gardeners of our own accord, and no longer merely residents within the garden of another.
Therefore the LORD God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken. Genesis (3:23)
Ponderous lore.
"The Fall of Man"
by Lucas Cranach,
a 16th century German depiction of Eden
I do not mention this for religious reasons. I would NEVER discuss such beliefs in this forum. I am happy to share many things. But my faith, whatever it may be, is a private thing and not for anyone else. It is for me alone. My scriptural "thorn thoughts" are actually germane and berberine. You see, it has been speculated that it was a crown of Barberry that was placed on the head of Jesus.
"In Italy, [Barberry] is sometimes called the Holy Thorn, because it was believed to be the plant used to make the Crown of Thorns."[ix]
Scripture is not clear as to what the thorny plant actually was (Matthew (27:29), Mark (15:17), and John (19:2, 5)), and there are many available choices. But it doesn't matter. That there was a thorny crown is enough. A crown of thorns is appropriate. Sin.
But…
A Barberry Crown…
That would suck.
While I do not wish to disparage anyone's beliefs, there are - today - several purported remnants of this thorny crown. I don't know if they are genuine or not. For reasons of practicality, it is hard for me to accept that such a thing would have survived the uncertain years (three centuries) between the crucifixion and the Council of Nicaea. For reasons of simple durability, it is harder to accept that they have survived at all to this day. But anything is possible and it doesn't matter anyway.
And I wouldn't mind looking at them.
There is another, unrelated, plant species out there with claims on the crown: Euphorbia milii - (formerly Euphorbia splendens). Common names: Crown of Thorns, Christ Plant, and Christ Thorn. And its thorns are particularly vicious.
Which species is dauphin and which pretender? Who is to say? There may be other claimants!
Euphorbia
milii
Flickr photo originally uploaded on 2 August 2006
By Ferran M.
-
I am pleased to find that my new delights are not on the Whispering Crane Institute's Shrubs We Do Not Like list. While I feel empowered to decide my own tastes regardless of Rick Anderson's opinion, the truth is that I agree with almost every one of his positions… almost every one. (I still cannot tolerate that "L" word he sometimes uses: Apologies to Rick Anderson.) I've not read him disparage the Barberry.
Good.
I think Barberries are spectacular. And the choices are so varied, what's not to love? My aim is to create a living "Barberry collage" consisting of various stars from the Barberry firmament. While I think such a thing will have an interesting look (which is nice), what is more important to me is that such a thing will actually be interesting.[5]
-
I've decided to go exclusively with one species, and to play my mix-and-match game with various cultivars. And I've chosen a particular species for two reasons: one very good, one completely ridiculous. That's just me. I can't help it.
I'm going with Berberis thunbergii, the Japanese Barberry. It is deciduous.
Reason One: I already have several of these specimens in the existing (legacy) landscape. They are healthy and good. I don't know the cultivars but they seem to work, so I'm running with it.
Reason Two: I like that this species was named for Carl Peter Thunberg, Linnæus' star pupil and the first western natural philosopher who first ventured into Japan. Thunberg and the Shogun. Yes, Thunberg was a cool cat. I've written about him before: A Tale of Two Susans - II. And in a week or so, I'll be standing in his office in Sweden thinking about walking through Linnæus' gardens.
Linnæus named a genus of vine after him: Thunbergia. I'm growing the flowered species alata: The Black Eyed Susan Vine. But it wasn't Linnæus who named this Barberry species for Thunberg. It was someone else… another incredibly cool guy about whom I am beginning to read: Augustin Pyramus de Candolle. See, this is Japanese Barberry. When you think of Japanese plants, think of Thunberg.
Anyway, reason two is enough. Thunberg. Linnæus.
Berberine Mix
Flickr Photo originally uploaded on 27 May 2007
By The County Clerk
Here's what I have so far:
Japanese Barberry, Dwarf Redleaf Barberry
One can't really tell from the photo, but each of these is just a little different. I'm hoping to add more: a berberine dream.
Midnight
Barberry
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 22
May, 2007
By The County Clerk
The bush that has most briers and bitter fruit,
Wait till the frost has turned its green leaves red,
Its sweetened berries will thy palate suit,
And thou may'st find e'en there a homely bread.Upon the hills of Salem scattered wide,
Their yellow blossoms gain the eye in Spring;
And straggling e'en upon the turnpike's side,
Their ripened branches to your hand they bring,I've plucked them oft in boyhood's early hour,
That then I gave such name, and thought it true;
But now I know that other fruit as sour
Grows on what now thou callest Me and You;Yet, wilt thou wait the autumn that I see,
Will sweeter taste than these red berries be.
Notes
[1] For no particular reason at all, I think "berberine" is a good adjective. It feels good, though I'm not entirely sure that it is correct. Rather, I don't think it is an adjective. It is a noun.
Berberine is "a bitter-tasting yellow alkaloid, C20H19NO5, obtained from several plants such as goldenseal and having medical uses as an antipyretic and antibacterial agent." [i]
But I don't care. If our language can survive the logical yet very strange linguistic "vermouth" - "wormwood" connection (both come from the Anglo-Saxon wermod[ii]) I can "adjectivfy" a noun (…like verbify).
I like the idea of adjective forming suffixes. The "ine" suffix is one of these (it also makes nouns - OBVIOUSLY) used to form "words that mean “similar to”, “resembling”, “like”, “characterized by”, or “of the nature of”." There's an interesting list here… though the "ine" is most often used for animals. There are a delightful couple of paragraphs at World Wide Words dedicated to Feline, Bovine, Lupine and Anatine thoughts. In fact, I might just start adding "ine" to things willy-nilly. THIS might be the way I change the world. It could happen! But alas I'm apparently ALREADY off on a tangent. Damn. I seem to be prone to these "tangenine" thoughts. (Is "tangentine" better?) I need to focus! - back to text
[2] If my life were at stake, I could not discern the difference between a Jam and a Jelly. My mother told me the difference once. I remember that. I just cannot recall exactly what she said. "Preserves" were also mentioned. And something else too: Jams, Jellies, Preserves and SOMETHING. Maybe I'll look into this, but I'm not "vibing" that way at the moment. - back to text
[3] Zereshkestan. Place of the Barberries. This inspires me. See, I trade letters with a guy I know in the UK. Not email. Actual letters. As such, I OBVIOUSLY have to address the envelopes. One of the lines of this guy's address is the name of his house.
Really.
His house has a name and that name is real - i.e. a legitimate part of his mailing address.
I think this is cool.
I want to name my house.
The only problem is my house is crap.. crapine… though I'm happy to have it.
It seems pretentious as hell to name such a modest place. Actually, that's not the problem. I've no concern about perceived pretension. If I owned a named 500-year-old stone manor on acreage, I'd monogram my couch with that name. (I'm being ridiculous of course… but now I wonder how one would monogram one's couch… hmmmnnn.) The point is: pretension is irrelevant.
The real problem is the asinine nature of the gesture… calling attention to that which should not be called attention.
"Hey Hank, I'm very pleased to be invited over to Henry Hall… but uh… you don't seem to have any walls… or floors… nice water heater though. It isn't every house that one can see STRAIGHT THROUGH."
Yes. I'm working on it.
The house just isn't grand. It's fine, but not grand at all.
It seems grand houses wear their names quite comfortably… like "Stanhope Hall" (I read that name somewhere but I can't place it, maybe in some novel or something… mafia… horses… a sailboat… I can't put it together). Monticello. Poplar Forest. Montpelier. Ash Lawn-Highland. I used to think I'd wind up with a big, grand place. But now I think I won't. (I've lived in some good places. What more can a guy want?)
These days I just want more Foxglove.
But…
Maybe THAT'S the answer! Maybe I can name my gardens! That gesture would be somewhat LESS pretentious and asinine.
However… a small luster of idiocy still shines through this idea, and must be compensated for.
So… I'm thinking that maybe the RIGHT NAME is what is needed… a name that expresses beauty but adds interest… like Yaddo.
But that's already taken.
So, I am thinking about the "-stan" thing. "Place of."
Maybe I'll name my gardens the "Place of Foxglove" - Digitalis.
"Digitalistan"
Digitalis
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 22
May, 2007
By The County Clerk
Digitalistan… I love it.
Not pretentious at all.
Maybe I'll make a little sign: "Welcome to Digitalistan."
And maybe I'll start wearing a lunghi (the traditional Taliban headdress) around the garden just to freak out my neighbors… though this might get me a one-way ticket to Guantanamo.
Hmmmnn.
Maybe I'll just skip the whole thing. - back to text
[4] Who is Tom Wilson? He's the "well known" creator of the cartoon: Ziggy.
There is a hysterical and brief post over at Varieties of Unreligious Experience on "Roth's Law" - a truism observed by that blog's author: Conrad Roth. It is basically about what I just did… though I had to look up at least two words to realize just how funny the post actually is. Good words too: explicandum and trope. (I guessed on interlocutrix.)
Actually, Wilson isn't all that famous. But Ziggy is…
I'm thinking of the cartoon cell where Ziggy says, "You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses."
(So… now I'm quoting Ziggy? What the hell is going on here?) - back to text
[5] Of course, I'm an oddball. This whole thing reminds me of a "paint" issue I ran across several years ago while still married:
My bride was struggling over which shade of "antique white" would be perfect for the top half of some of our walls - above the chair rail and below the crown. She'd point. I'd get it done. "Antique White."
The wainscot was to be "antique white." The moldings were to be some kind of "antique white " color too. Different hues. Anyway, the search was on for the "correct" tone between the two.
I should note that this sort of thing drives me crazy.
I won't even get into a whole yearlong Nantucket Historical Society juggernaut I lived through concerning "The Perfect Grey" for an exterior… and the exterior was in Texas by the way… an exterior made not of weathered shingled cedar cast in Cape Cod light. WOWZA.
But, I should also note that INVARIABLY the colors she picked looked great.
So… the search was on for the right "antique white."
Oh... I should clarify that NONE OF THESE colors were actually called anything like "antique white." But they were Antique White none the less. Bone. Parchment. Zen. Santa Fe. Rehoboth.
Did I mention that this sort of thing drives me crazy?
Anyway, the issue was still unresolved and she went off on vacation for a few weeks. (Vacation from what you ask? From me I think! She didn't work or anything... and I wasn't going anywhere... so... whatever.) I stayed home and worked. One morning, demonstrating particularly poor judgment, I decided to put this "half-painted house" issue to bed.
So…
I went to every paint store in the world and purchased a quart of every brand they had… all mixed in that particular brand's unique formulation of "Antique White." All were the same sheen but NONE were the same color. Some were darker than others. I then opened them all and painted a little "test" of each on the wall. From there, I made decisions. For example, the Pratt & Lambert "Antique White" would be the trim. The Ace Hardware "Antique White" would be the wainscot. Etcetera. I even decided that certain walls would be certain hues while others would be different.
All the hues were very, very close. "Antique White-ish" ("Antique White-ine"?).
(As I recall, I was sipping bourbon by this time.)
So... I then drew up a little chart ('cause I'm apparently a freak) and went out and bought gallons in the right sheens - eggshells and semi-glosses and so forth.
I was "inspired."
Bing. Bang. Boom. It was done.
And I thought the house looked great.
My buddies would drop by. And, knowing what my life was, they'd ask:
"What color did you wind up going with, big guy? Antique white or Antique white?"
"Neither. Both. Want a beer?"
They'd laugh. It was kinda funny.
Needless to say, the idea was not nearly so wonderful three weeks later.
And out to yet unpainted "Man House" I went.
-
Live and learn.
Whatever. - back to text
Sources
[ii] Popular Etymology J. D. Sadler The Classical Journal, Vol. 66, No. 3 (Feb. - Mar., 1971), pp. 236-240 - back to text
[iii] A Dictionary of Botanical Etymology Compiled by Michael L Charters (BA-BI Pages) - back to text
[iv] From Wikipedia Zereshk - back to text
[v] From Wikipedia Zereshk - back to text
[vi] From Wikipedia: -stan - back to text
[vii] From Wikipedia Zereshk - back to text
[viii] From Wikipedia Zereshk - back to text
[ix] From Waverly Fitzgerald's Living in Season - back to text
I thought for once I could keep quiet, but nooooo. I saw barberry and got all excited because I have eaten that delicious Persian food with barberries prepared by my lovely Iranian friends. Soooo good. I even have a little bag of them in my cupboard, for what? Don't know, just in case I should suddenly get a craving for Barberry Khoresh!
Moving on to another country, I love the traditional menswear of Afghanistan - very sexy. You should traipse around your digitalis purpurea at dawn dressed in that garb. See how your neighbors would like that!
Posted by: anna maria | May 29, 2007 at 11:10 PM
Berberine Manor
Berberineville
Berb-o-rama
Posted by: anna maria | May 29, 2007 at 11:20 PM
Undoubtedly the best footnotes in the blogosphere, not to mention the rest.
"I like the idea of adjective forming suffixes"
How about "ial"? Berberial? Berberical?Berberesque?
"Jams, Jellies, Preserves and SOMETHING"
Conserves? Comfits?
Anna Maria, "You should traipse around your digitalis purpurea at dawn dressed in that garb." -- This sounds quite good if 'digitalis purpurea' is taken as a dirty euphemism.
Posted by: Conrad | May 30, 2007 at 12:17 AM
Your post got me to thinking about a thorny plant I had to mow around when a child and thus, once I left for college, tried never to think about again: Could pyracanthas be a kind of barberry? Well, no. They look similar, though.
"And maybe I'll start wearing a lunghi (the traditional Taliban headdress) around the garden just to freak out my neighbors…"
That--and, for that matter, other things you've been saying about your house and garden--reminded me of "Tea in the Palaz of Hoon," by Wallace Stevens.
Thanks, as always, for teaching me things, and for getting me to thinking.
Posted by: John B. | May 30, 2007 at 06:14 AM
In the cabin ghettos of the 10,000 puddles extant in Minnesota, even the humblest outhouses have names. Ice houses, too, Hank. (Granted, most of them go by Uff Da but there you go.) You can name your abode, villa, ranch, shack, whatever you damned well please. Not that the USPS will recognize it, but we might.
BTW, the wall colors and the wife? Maybe she needed a job. Did that occur to you? Snark snark snark.
But I did love your barberry exegesis.
Posted by: El | May 30, 2007 at 08:20 AM
I so want to name my house, too, but for the last 3 years I've had the same trouble you just mentioned. It will never be grand enough to be a "hall" type name, and never quaint enough for a "cottage" type name. I'm left in the eclectic grey middle... unless I can do some research at the local historical society and find out that the first owners of my house had a last name that would sound absolutely fantastic when paired with "Place" or the more humble "House."
I like the way the red-leaf barberries look (especially the upright form of 'Helmond Pillar') but I can't bring myself to plant one myself. There is some concern about even those cross-pollinating with regular old Japanese barberry and causing a problem in the wild. (Regular Japanese barberry has been named an unwelcome/invasive non-native plant in 20 states.) Not something most people worry about, I know, and they're sold everywhere. I'm an admitted worrier.
By the way, I planted 12 crocus sativus last fall. We'll see what happens with them, if anything. I'm hoping to have enough for just one dish this year! :)
Posted by: Kim | May 30, 2007 at 10:31 AM
Barberries are my favorite bushes, especially as a barrier plant for my bogus neighbors! I have at least 10 different cultivars, mostly purchased from Forestfarm...including the 'Helmund Pilar' that Kim mentioned. I think they're fabulous, and if you have an interest in more thorny subjects, I could certainly provide you with a list, as this has become my "Dr. Botanstein" mission to secure my borders! ;)
Posted by: lisa | May 30, 2007 at 01:48 PM
Given the neighbors you have, Hank, barberry is probably a good choice! I'd add some thorny euphorbias also! Well, a very interesting post on the barberry and language. I like 'Berberine Thoughts'. I have relatives who have named their modest homes and properties and it always made me laugh and laughing is always good. Try to laugh at least once a day! Anyway, I have your same thoughts on place naming but I think the more modest the home, the funnier a high falootin' name would be. I think 'Thorncroft' is taken but Digitalistan has a definite ring to it. How about Berbidigitalistan? Sounds like supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Now you've got me thinking of the proper name for my garden!
Posted by: layanee | May 30, 2007 at 08:14 PM
Hank your passion for the barberry (previously unintroduced to me) reminds me of Benjamin Buford Blue's love of shrimp, and makes me crave berberine pie and berberine rice and berberine bread and berberine wine and Berberine Foster and barberries ala mode and Barberry Brown Betty and berberine preserves and berberine cobbler and ......
Posted by: Jennifer | November 04, 2007 at 11:11 AM
Thank you so much for this. I will suggest berberis crumble to our chef.
Posted by: Piers Nye | January 17, 2008 at 04:21 PM
Piers Nye (and everyone),
You are quite welcome.
I write these things alone. I live alone. I hope that someone might read them and enjoy them.
It makes me very good when it happens.
Thank you all.
Posted by: The County Clerk | January 18, 2008 at 03:35 PM
I was reading about berberries and i found out that u do't have the name in Arabic, It's called Amire barise or barbaris and it means the king of Paris, it is good for clensing the blood , acne, and reduces heat in the body, and good for red blood cels .soak 2 Tablesoons in one cup of water over night and drink in the morning .
Posted by: jamilla,awadhi | May 25, 2009 at 12:49 AM