Onze site gebruikt cookies om diensten te leveren, prestaties te verbeteren, voor analyse en (indien je niet ingelogd bent) voor advertenties. Door LibraryThing te gebruiken erken je dat je onze Servicevoorwaarden en Privacybeleid gelezen en begrepen hebt. Je gebruik van de site en diensten is onderhevig aan dit beleid en deze voorwaarden.
After its Peruvian discovery in 2002, Phragmipedium kovachii became the rarest and most sought-after orchid in the world. Prices soared to $10,000 on the black market. Then one showed up at Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, USA, where every year more than 100,000 people visit. They come for the lush landscape on Sarasota Bay and for Selby's vast orchid collection, one of the most magnificent in the world. The collision between Selby's scientists and the smugglers of Phrag. Kovachii, a rare ladyslipper orchid hailed as the most significant and beautiful new species discovered in a century, led to search warrants, a grand jury investigation, and criminal charges. It made headlines around the country, cost the gardens hundreds of thousands of dollars in donations, and led to tremendous internal turmoil. Investigative journalist Craig Pittman unravels this tangled web to shine a spotlight on flaws in the international treaties governing trade in endangered wildlife--which may protect individual plants and animals in shipping but do little to halt the destruction of whole colonies in the wild. The Scent of Scandal unspools like a riveting mystery novel, stranger than anything in Susan Orlean's The Orchid Thief or the film Adaptation. Pittman shows how some people can become so obsessed--with beauty, with profit, with fame--that they will ignore everything, even the law.… (meer)
I said in an earlier (way earlier) status update that this book was only ever going to appeal to a niche demographic, and I still say so now that I've finished it. Orchidists, or those that have been dragged along to greenhouses, shows, and sales all over the country - if not the world - subjected to endless hours of conversations about species, hybrids, variants, varieties, propagation, contamination, mealy bugs, scale ... *ahem* ... will find themselves nodding along to the insanity that's chronicled in this book and saying "Uh-huh, yep."
But it's a fascinating story whether or not you've got any knowledge of the orchid world. There's adventures in the Amazon, romantic dreams of glory, greed, smuggling, drama, investigations, and dramatic court scenes. I'd call it a Grisham tale with a notes and sources appendix, except it's really not; Pittman is a journalist and though the narrative is excellently written and easily read, it isn't written to be snappy entertainment, and it isn't fiction. This is an investigative journalism piece densely packed with details, events, and the players involved (most of them characters both on and off the page).
The story surrounds the discovery of a new orchid, a member of the family that includes those commonly called "Lady Slippers". This isn't just another lady slipper orchid, but a reportedly spectacular, once-in-a-century find; a new Phragmipedium that's (apparently) showier. far larger than all the rest, and strongly scented.
I say "apparently" because, honestly, it looks like any other Phragmipedium I've seen, and as the child of an orchid grower/breeder, I've seen a fair few. It's reported to change color as it ages, so who knows? It IS quantifiably special in terms of size though: the flowers grow to be 10–20 cm (4–8 in) wide - far larger than your average, delicately sized lady slipper. Still, call me sane, but that flower doesn't make me want to spend $10,000 to own it.
Back to the story: this flower is the catalyst for the downfall of at least half a dozen men and the damn near destruction of the Selby Botanical Gardens. The Scent Of Scandal is, at its heart, the story of one particularly romantic fool who was so desperate to have an orchid named after himself that he broke the laws of two countries and an international treaty to make it happen, in the process bringing down a slew of other naive, romantic fools who desperately wanted to 'play the game', exact revenge on a rival, and establish their necessity to their board of directors. On the sidelines, aiding, abetting, profiteering and stirring things up, is a cast of side characters who were equal parts greedy, stupid, and criminal.
The takeaway from this cautionary tale: don't smuggle the flower of the century out of one country and into another only to then ask the scientific community to name it after you. Having your name officially tied to the taxonomy of a smuggled flower makes plausible deniability awkward. If you're the scientific community tempted to help him: don't. Just don't. And - I can't stress this enough - don't keep a piece to grow for yourself. It makes the Justice Department cranky.
Craig Pittman did an amazing job putting this narrative, with a cast that often felt like thousands and settings all over the globe, into a tight, cohesive timeline that followed this story from a chance conversation on a plane between two strangers, through the dramatic headlines, to the conclusion, where nobody really got what they wanted, including the man with his name on the orchid; a few people died tragically, and just about everybody else ended up unemployed and on probation.
This story, while fascinating it its own right, held a deeper appeal to me. As most know, I was born and raised in Sarasota, and my father, as mentioned above, raised, bred, showed, sold, wrote, lectured about and generally just breathed orchids. He was one of these - and I say this with love and adoration - nut jobs who go crazy for orchids. He knew most, if not all, these people well, and did a lot of Selby's lab work for a time. He was NOT, however, a collector that went scouting for unknowns in foreign jungles. His obsession was hybridisation - crossing known species to come up with new and sometimes wondrous forms. Orchids were to him what peas were the Mendel. In this way, he was able to officially name* orchids for several of his kids from the comfort of his laboratory, without anyone getting a grand jury subpoena.
So, if you're interested in botany or orchids, and you like stories of true crime/international intrigue involving a bunch of naive old men and a few authentically criminal characters, or even if you're curious by any book categorised as "True Crime / Gardening" (I kid you not), this book might be worth finding. I enjoyed it immensely - once the necessary background is established, the story is riveting.
People are truly, deeply crazy.
* in the name of accuracy, my dad didn't do the naming; he made thousands of crosses in his time and never bothered registering most of them. When other growers wanted to register/show one of his crosses, they'd contact him for permission; he always told them yes, but sometimes he'd randomly request they name it after one of us. Thus it is that I've got a big, gaudy flower that is in every way the exact opposite of what I'd have picked, living on through the taxonomic records with my name on it. Not that I'm complaining - I have a plant named after me! And I didn't get arrested for my little pea sized piece of 'immortality'. ( )
This book is completely engrossing. I reminded me of Adapation the movie. It details the intrigue of the orchid importation into the US mostly from South America. The people involved are so compelled and driven by their passion for these rare plants that they go to what seems to me, extremes to fulfill these desires. It is a history, but it also delves into the people and their motivation. This mix makes what could be a dry topic totally come alive. ( )
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
It was the founding father of Chinese thought, Confucius…who first celebrated the orchid for its special qualities, and awarded it primacy in the pantheon of plants. What particularly attracted him was its gently insinuating perfume. Understated yet pervasive, its fragrance symbolized for him the virtuous and wise, who make their presence and superiority felt while never seeking to oppress others. Luigi Berliocchi, The Orchid in Lore and Legend
As dead flies give perfume a bad smell, so a little folly outweighs wisdom and honor. Ecclesiastes 10:1
Opdracht
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
For Mom— Does this make up for all those times that I accidentally mowed over your flowerbed?
Eerste woorden
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
The bride glided across the lawn, her lacy white dress billowing like a sail. A sea breeze ruffled her red hair and stirred the leaves of the nearby banyan tree. Sunlight danced across Sarasota Bay, making the water glitter like distant diamonds.
Citaten
Laatste woorden
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
“I don't know what he's got to be bitter about,” said the man who made a tidy profit selling kovachii T-shirts. “He got the plant named after him. Isn't that what he wanted?”
After its Peruvian discovery in 2002, Phragmipedium kovachii became the rarest and most sought-after orchid in the world. Prices soared to $10,000 on the black market. Then one showed up at Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, USA, where every year more than 100,000 people visit. They come for the lush landscape on Sarasota Bay and for Selby's vast orchid collection, one of the most magnificent in the world. The collision between Selby's scientists and the smugglers of Phrag. Kovachii, a rare ladyslipper orchid hailed as the most significant and beautiful new species discovered in a century, led to search warrants, a grand jury investigation, and criminal charges. It made headlines around the country, cost the gardens hundreds of thousands of dollars in donations, and led to tremendous internal turmoil. Investigative journalist Craig Pittman unravels this tangled web to shine a spotlight on flaws in the international treaties governing trade in endangered wildlife--which may protect individual plants and animals in shipping but do little to halt the destruction of whole colonies in the wild. The Scent of Scandal unspools like a riveting mystery novel, stranger than anything in Susan Orlean's The Orchid Thief or the film Adaptation. Pittman shows how some people can become so obsessed--with beauty, with profit, with fame--that they will ignore everything, even the law.
)
Google Books — Bezig met laden...
1
But it's a fascinating story whether or not you've got any knowledge of the orchid world. There's adventures in the Amazon, romantic dreams of glory, greed, smuggling, drama, investigations, and dramatic court scenes. I'd call it a Grisham tale with a notes and sources appendix, except it's really not; Pittman is a journalist and though the narrative is excellently written and easily read, it isn't written to be snappy entertainment, and it isn't fiction. This is an investigative journalism piece densely packed with details, events, and the players involved (most of them characters both on and off the page).
The story surrounds the discovery of a new orchid, a member of the family that includes those commonly called "Lady Slippers". This isn't just another lady slipper orchid, but a reportedly spectacular, once-in-a-century find; a new Phragmipedium that's (apparently) showier. far larger than all the rest, and strongly scented.
I say "apparently" because, honestly, it looks like any other Phragmipedium I've seen, and as the child of an orchid grower/breeder, I've seen a fair few. It's reported to change color as it ages, so who knows? It IS quantifiably special in terms of size though: the flowers grow to be 10–20 cm (4–8 in) wide - far larger than your average, delicately sized lady slipper. Still, call me sane, but that flower doesn't make me want to spend $10,000 to own it.
Back to the story: this flower is the catalyst for the downfall of at least half a dozen men and the damn near destruction of the Selby Botanical Gardens. The Scent Of Scandal is, at its heart, the story of one particularly romantic fool who was so desperate to have an orchid named after himself that he broke the laws of two countries and an international treaty to make it happen, in the process bringing down a slew of other naive, romantic fools who desperately wanted to 'play the game', exact revenge on a rival, and establish their necessity to their board of directors. On the sidelines, aiding, abetting, profiteering and stirring things up, is a cast of side characters who were equal parts greedy, stupid, and criminal.
The takeaway from this cautionary tale: don't smuggle the flower of the century out of one country and into another only to then ask the scientific community to name it after you. Having your name officially tied to the taxonomy of a smuggled flower makes plausible deniability awkward. If you're the scientific community tempted to help him: don't. Just don't. And - I can't stress this enough - don't keep a piece to grow for yourself. It makes the Justice Department cranky.
Craig Pittman did an amazing job putting this narrative, with a cast that often felt like thousands and settings all over the globe, into a tight, cohesive timeline that followed this story from a chance conversation on a plane between two strangers, through the dramatic headlines, to the conclusion, where nobody really got what they wanted, including the man with his name on the orchid; a few people died tragically, and just about everybody else ended up unemployed and on probation.
This story, while fascinating it its own right, held a deeper appeal to me. As most know, I was born and raised in Sarasota, and my father, as mentioned above, raised, bred, showed, sold, wrote, lectured about and generally just breathed orchids. He was one of these - and I say this with love and adoration - nut jobs who go crazy for orchids. He knew most, if not all, these people well, and did a lot of Selby's lab work for a time. He was NOT, however, a collector that went scouting for unknowns in foreign jungles. His obsession was hybridisation - crossing known species to come up with new and sometimes wondrous forms. Orchids were to him what peas were the Mendel. In this way, he was able to officially name* orchids for several of his kids from the comfort of his laboratory, without anyone getting a grand jury subpoena.
So, if you're interested in botany or orchids, and you like stories of true crime/international intrigue involving a bunch of naive old men and a few authentically criminal characters, or even if you're curious by any book categorised as "True Crime / Gardening" (I kid you not), this book might be worth finding. I enjoyed it immensely - once the necessary background is established, the story is riveting.
People are truly, deeply crazy.
* in the name of accuracy, my dad didn't do the naming; he made thousands of crosses in his time and never bothered registering most of them. When other growers wanted to register/show one of his crosses, they'd contact him for permission; he always told them yes, but sometimes he'd randomly request they name it after one of us. Thus it is that I've got a big, gaudy flower that is in every way the exact opposite of what I'd have picked, living on through the taxonomic records with my name on it. Not that I'm complaining - I have a plant named after me! And I didn't get arrested for my little pea sized piece of 'immortality'. (