Most people know what a red rose signifies, but beyond that, few understand the meaning behind the flowers that we give and receive. However, this wasn’t always the case. During the Victorian era, flowers were a popular means of expression. The secret language of flowers, also known as floriography, was a practice in which bouquets conveyed nuanced messages.
Amy King, 41, a Victorianist and author of Bloom: The Botanical Vernacular in the English Novel, is one of few who are still versed in the language of flowers. Here, she decodes some common flowers, just in time for mother’s day.
Q. Explain the “language of flowers” and what role it played in the Victorian Era.
The language of flowers is exactly what its name suggests: the way flowers can be a non-verbal language or a means of expression between the sender and recipient. The language of flowers stays with us today in the widely understood meaning, for instance, of the red rose. We still know that sending red roses to someone is a declaration of romantic love.
If we take as evidence the number of language of flower books, which were often small gift books that proliferated in the Victorian period, then it seems safe to say that the Victorians were more conversant in the language of flowers than we are today. In the preface to The Illustrated Language of Flowers, a small book first published by Routledge in 1865, the editor is clear that the most important thing is that the language itself be straightforward. These books suggest that the Victorians thought they could send very clear messages by giving particular flowers, shrubs, or trees.
Q. Can you give some common examples of flowers and their meanings?
In the language of flower books that I own, the daisy connotes innocence; the orange flower, often placed in bridal bouquets in the Victorian era, connotes chastity; a red tulip is a declaration of love; foxglove connotes insincerity; while a cedar leaf says ‘I live for thee.’
Q. Is it just flower type, or do color and arrangement add to the overall message?
I’m not entirely sure about this. One would think combining a few flowers with individual extant meanings would form a more complex message, but I don’t know if floriography was practiced that way in the 19th century. I do know that the few language of flower books I own have some flower combinations in them with specific meanings. For instance, a white rose by itself connotes ‘I am worthy of you,’ while red and white roses combined means unity. A full-blown rose, placed over two buds, suggests secrecy.
Q. Who participated in it? Was it just young lovers or everybody?
The kinds of meanings associated with the various flowers would suggest that it could include all sorts of relationships, and not just romantic love. The American elm, for instance, connotes patriotism.
Q. Are there any flowers that reflect a hateful message?
Definitely. In the Illustrated Language of Flowers, the frontispiece has a picture with the following unattributed quote underneath it, “The flowers in silence seem to breathe. Such thought as language cannot tell.” In other words, you can say things with flowers that you cannot speak. Many of the floral messages in that book suggest unpleasant emotions at least, and sometimes even hateful messages. For example, dead leaves connote sadness; scotch thistle, retaliation; striped carnations, refusal; French marigold, jealousy; lotus flower, estranged love; and basil, hatred.
Q. Can these language of flowers books still be relevant in today’s culture?
Floral emblem books are reprinted today and I’ve found them in popular bookstores – there seems to be some revival of interest in them. And certainly when I’ve spoken about them to students they’re fascinated by the idea of being able to communicate without speaking. In our age of seemingly constant and authentically transparent communication through Facebook, Twitter, etcetera, I think there is something attractive in the subtlety of this language that people respond to. Whether that means it will become widely understood again, which is essential for the language to have meaning, is not clear to me.
Q. With mother’s day coming up, what flowers would you suggest someone give his or her mother?
Moss! In several of the books that I own moss seems to be the plant that connotes maternal love. A live flowering plant surrounded by moss would be a lovely gift for mother’s day.
Q. Would the bouquet be different for a child giving their mother a bouquet versus a husband giving his wife one?
If a husband sent a dwarf sunflower, which signifies adoration, that’d be nice. A flower called “virgin’s bower”, I understand, signifies filial love. As a mother myself I’d be happy receiving a bouquet chosen simply by my child for me, no matter what the meaning.