[.ca] The Orchid Thief: A True Story of Beauty and Obsession (ISBN 1565116909)

From Amazon.com:
Orchidelirium is the name the Victorians gave to the flower madness that is for botanical collectors the equivalent of gold fever. Wealthy orchid fanatics of that era sent explorers (heavily armed, more to protect themselves against other orchid seekers than against hostile natives or wild animals) to unmapped territories in search of new varieties of Cattleya and Paphiopedilum. As knowledge of the family Orchidaceae grew to encompass the currently more than 60,000 species and over 100,000 hybrids, orchidelirium might have been expected to go the way of Dutch tulip mania. Yet, as journalist Susan Orlean found out, there still exists a vein of orchid madness strong enough to inspire larceny among collectors. The Orchid Thief centers on south Florida and John Laroche, a quixotic, charismatic schemer once convicted of attempting to take endangered orchids from the Fakahatchee swamp, a state preserve. Laroche, a horticultural consultant who once ran an extensive nursery for the Seminole tribe, dreams of making a fortune for the Seminoles and himself by cloning the rare ghost orchid Polyrrhiza lindenii. Laroche sums up the obsession that drives him and so many others: I really have to watch myself, especially around plants. Even now, just being here, I still get that collector feeling. You know what I mean. I'll see something and then suddenly I get that feeling. It's like I can't just have something--I have to have it and learn about it and grow it and sell it and master it and have a million of it. Even Orlean--so leery of orchid fever that she immediately gives away any plant that's pressed upon her by the growers in Laroche's circle--develops a desire to see a ghost orchid blooming and makes several ultimately unsuccessful treks into the Fakahatchee. Filled with Palm Beach socialites, Native Americans, English peers, smugglers, and naturalists as improbably colorful as the tropical blossoms that inspire them, this is a lyrical, funny, addictively entertaining read. --Barrie Trinkle

Passion turned obsession:
I first saw the movie 'Adaptation': a film adaptation of the book 'The Orchid Thief.' The movie became, before the end, myopic in that hollwood-filming-itself way that only large budget films with too many contributors can manage. It boils down to who will win in controlling the story: the subject of the book (Laroche), the writer of the book (Orlean), or the screenwriter (played by Nicolas Cage). To make a long story short, the movie was so-so but the orchid descriptions and photos made my wife and I gasp in astonishment. Also, the Laroche character was compelling in an unexplainable way. So I decided to read the book. The book is non-fiction and thankfully has little to do with the strange plot of the movie. Even if you don't normally read non-fiction, however, you'll like this one as the author uses that fluid, conversational, New Yorker style that pulls you in and delivers interesting anecdotes at just the right times. If you like Updike's writing, you'll enjoy that of Orlean. The book centers, above all, on the fine line between passion and obsession. This dangerous transition is personified in real-world orchid figure Laroche of south Florida. While innocuously building a nursery business with his wife, he finds success and outlet for his passion for plants. But as disaster besets him (fatal car crash, hurricane, divorce, financial woes, legal trouble), we start to see what really makes him tick. He is a survivor, a quick thinker, a schemer, a dreamer and, unlike most of us, a just-do-it person. Throughout his life he has a knack for focusing on something, quickly becoming an expert at it, and transforming that passion into a vocation. Orchids, however, pull him into the land of obsession. We can see this by comparing Laroche with a spectrum of figures in the book who observe orchids with varying degrees of appreciation, lust, envy, wonder, nurture, exploitation, conservation and commercialization. Along the way we learn about the history of orchids in the Western culture, their natural habitats from the cloud forests of South America to the hot, humid jungles of southeast Asia. The author tells us how difficult it is to grow orchids from seed, but how emotionally and financially rewarding it can be to design your own orchid hybrid. Finally, we are told that orchids are immortal, with many plants alive for several human generations, being passed on with reverence, and are still going strong today. This book contains much, well-researched information on orchids, orchid hunters, orchid growers, and orchid shows and societies but it is, most of all, an illustration of the phenomenon of human passion and obsession: the distinction being that passion is motivating and guiding whereas obsession is reckless and self-destructive. In obsession, the thing outside becomes more valuable than the self-image, and crazy actions are espoused. Hence Larouche's scheme to build an orchid lab on Native American soil, use their legal exemptions to collect wild ghost orchids from otherwise protected state preserves, and aim to be the first to clone and grow in quantity the extremely rare ghost orchid. Laroche, missing a few front teeth and uttering phrases mixing plant names (in latin) with profanity embodies, in one man, the interesting mix of high culture and low intrigue that seem married to the international trade of orchids. Thankfully the book goes deep into the man Larouche, of his motivations and excesses, of his passions and interior wounds. This man, who is also the most compelling portion of the film adaptation of the book, is carefully plumbed in this non-fiction work. The result of all this, for the reader, is a great appreciation for the evolutionary success of orchids, the importance of preserving them, shock at what people will do to acquire them, and perhaps a better understanding of why some people pursue things to their destruction while others can play in the same space, with wholesome enjoyment, forever. I should warn you that, after the movie and the book, my curiousity of orchids led me to read five or six non-fiction, how-to books on orchid cultivation. I can report, based upon those other works, that the research in 'The Orchid Thief' is very good. There are little inaccuracies, mainly with regards to the claim that orchids have no natural enemies. A more correct statement is that they have not many natural enemies. However, I'm learning from my local orchid group, they still suffer from things like fungal rot, red spider mites and orchid viruses that can attack them. So while they don't seem to senesce or kill themselves through aging (they probably don't need to, since they reproduce so infrequently) they can in fact die of from these competitors, pests, and diseases. So, yes, I'm growing an orchid plant now and have my eyes on a few others. Let's hope I keep my interest in the realm of passion, and avoid all the extremes of obsession highlighted in 'The Orchid Thief.' And wherever Larouche is now, my hat's off to you for your courage, ingenuity, resourcefulness, wit, charm, and--most of all--your passion!

excuse me?:
In this book is revealed John Laroche's guide to "mutating" plants, and his general theory of mutation. Laroche says that mutation is responsible for some people being real smart. Like him, for example. He tells Orlean that what must've happened is that he was exposed to some kind of toxic stuff when he was young and was then mutated into the brilliant person he is today. I am not joking. This is in the book. Apparently either Orlean is making the whole thing up (quite possible) or John Laroche actually believes in a comic book account of genetic mutation. I guess this is where his lack of formal education really starts to show. As any schoolboy who has not gone to school and instead has learned about life from reading comic books knows, people are mutated by being pivotally exposed to some radioactive or otherwise toxic agent. This is how they derive their superpowers. In the case of John Laroche, the superpower is extreme intelligence. Laroche then goes on to state that he has "mutated" lots of plants by putting germinating seeds in the microwave. Now, again, there is a popular misconception, propagated by the media, that microwaves are in some way "radioactive" This is not so. Microwave ovens do nothing but excite water molecules with non-visible light, making the water heat up. Laroche would have achieved the same result by putting the plant seeds under a heat lamp. The result would be that the germinating seeds would wither and cook and die. The result would NOT be that they would "mutate." So this is all nonsense. The only thing difficult to determine is whether Laroche actually believes any of this. I'm guessing he just made it up as he went along while talking to a captive audience in the form of Susan Orlean.

an insider's guide to book publishing:
Let me explain the world of modern publishing for you. A writer's agent pitches a book. The editor at the publishing company looks at it and says, "No, this will never sell. Not mainstream enough. Try the small presses who will pay dogsh#t." What IS bestseller material? Well, here's where it gets interesting. A can't-miss bestseller that is sure to garner wild critical acclaim is a book that is: VERY LONG VERY BORING VERY POINTLESS VERY VULGAR Why, you ask, is this the formula? Bend close and I'll tell you: Because people don't actually read these books. People pretend to read them. Then they recommend them to others, who then pretend to read them. Critics don't read them either. You kidding me? Do know what kind of attention critics pay to anything? About as much attention as anybody pays while on the job: as little as possible, am I right? No, they just hold their finger up to the wind and try not to stand out by differing from the herd opinion. They've heard its great, don't even look at the book, write a review based on somebody else's review and it goes from there. All a bestseller must have is the LOOK of a bestseller. It must be thick, it must have an exotic yet boring title and cover - just so you know you're in for some real art. And it must be vaguely historical seeming so you feel you're getting a real education while you have the unopened book lying next to you at the beach. Some relative of yours wanders over and makes some inquisitive noises about the book and you make noises back to the effect that its real great. The relative then hears Oprah talk about it - who also has not and never will read the book - and then goes and finds it prominently displayed on the new release rack at the bookmegastore. Thus is perpetuated el hustle. If I were a consultant to a publishing house I would advise them to save money by not having any print inside the book. What's that you say? Save further money by gluing the book shut and having a hollow interior? No, the book's gotta have that heft to it or nobody will buy it. You know, its gotta be real heavy material. Kapeesh?

Give me a break!:
At the New Yorker Offices: Susan Orlean's friend: That was a great article about that orchid guy in Florida. Why don't you write a book about it? Susan Orlean: Thanks, but I don't know. There's probably not enough for a book. I think I'm all set. Susan Orlean's friend: SURE there is. Just space out the stuff about the guy and fill in stuff about . . . I dunno . . . the history of orchids. Or the history of Florida. You could go in a million directions. Susan Orlean: Maybe you're right. And so, the "Orchid Thief" was conceived. This book offers an interesting character who's obsessed with the collection and cultivation of orchids. But if you don't think that's enough to carry the requirements of inking an entire book, you're exactly right. So, the book wanders on and on and on and on about orchids, orchid hunters. Orchid hunters in America. Orchid hunters in Europe. The Europeans who hired those orchid hunters. What they were thinking. Florida. The different people in Florida. The Seminoles. The treaties they didn't sign. Where they come from. The Seminole culture. All interesting subjects in their own right sure, but not in this one stream-of-consciousness puffification of a New Yorker article. If this book had gone on fifty more pages, Orlean would have covered the Florida State Seminoles. The football titles they've won. They beat Notre Dame. The Irish. U2 is Irish . . . Forever this book rambles on and is only tied together by the rapidly diminishing presence of this one man's obsession with collecting orchids in Florida. Where Disneyworld is. Busch Gardens, too.

round two:
okay, here's another run at why this is unbelievably bad writing. When I "watched" Adaptation (see my review of this stinker for details) I initially thought it was based on a fictitious book. When I learned otherwise, I couldn't believe that such malarkey existed, though of course I should have known better. Some writers are the biographers of Einstein. Some are the biographers of saints. Susan Orlean is the biographer of a piece of white trash with a mental disorder. It is supposed to be very quixotic and eccentric, but at bottom we are hit with a guy who is an obsessive collector of random things. He is also not above breaking the law to suit himself, hence the title. In this degenerate age, this is all we can hope for when looking for an exemplary life. This guy's life is not even very interesting, let alone inspiring. And then there is the matter of disingenuousness. The author tells the reader that Laroche - the collector - was writing a guide to growing plants which he was going to advertize in High Times. However, marijuana plants "grown according to his instructions would never mature and hence would never be psychoactive." See, this Laroche is keeping kids on the straight and narrow. We should laud him. Except for the fact that this "information" is completely false. I have grown my fair share of marijuana and have found first-hand that it certainly is not just budding plants which are psychoactive. In fact, sadly, not one of my plants ever made it that far: I smoked them long before that. So if this part is a load of BS, just think what else may be completely made-up.