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45

W

hether or not you are a gardener,

there is a kind of sensual,

luscious, juicy quality about fruit

that lends itself to the language

of love.

It appears in poetry and prose, in mythology

and folklore; a coy metaphor, a cautionary tale

or a symbol of lust and passion.

In 1675, metaphysical poet Richard Leigh

published a love poem in which a beautiful lady

picks and eats peaches;

“Behold, wherever she

does pass,/How all the am’rous Trees contend,/

whose loaded Arms should her embrace,/While

with their fruit tow’rds her they bend,/ As if the

willing Branches meant,/To her, their Bounty to

present”.

But, even 400 years ago, this drew on

thousands of years of fruity imagery.

Apples appear early in Christianity, tempting

Eve into original sin in the Garden of Eden.

In paganism, meanwhile, they are a symbol of

knowledge and abundance, often depicted as a

giving, fruitful tree that evokes fertility.

In Ancient Greece, there were similar

associations with love and abundance.

On the wedding night a bride was given apples

to eat, which were supposed to awaken sexual

desire and stimulate fertility, ensuring many

children.

And while it is no longer customary to pelt

girls with fruit, at one time a gentleman could

confess his love to a lady by tossing an

apple at her. If she caught it, the affection was

reciprocated.

Goddesses and symbolic apples go hand

in hand, but the Greek goddess of love,

Aphrodite, did not arrive by hers smoothly.

The story goes that Eris, Goddess of Discord,

angered by not being invited to a wedding,

threw a golden apple inscribed ‘to the fairest

one’ into the wedding party. It was immediately

claimed by three goddesses – Athena, Hera

and Aphrodite.

A celestial cat-fight ensued and they appealed

to Zeus to decide who the apple rightfully

belonged to.

Preferring not to get too involved, he nominated

Paris, handsome, mortal and known for fair

play, to make the decision.

The goddesses did everything in their power

to persuade Paris to decide in their favour,

but Aphrodite won by offering Paris the hand

of the most beautiful woman in the world.

He gave Aphrodite the apple and set out to

claim the gorgeous Helen of Sparta. At the

time, however, she was married to Menelaus

– who took it badly when she was abducted by

Paris on heavenly approval and, setting out to

reclaim her, started the Trojan war (hence hers

was the face that launched a thousand ships).

So apples are clearly powerful and should not

be trifled with. Yet folk magic often uses them

in domestic-level divinations and to create love

philtres (potions).

In Roman times apple pips would be thrown

into the fire to see whether all would be well in

love – if they popped loudly it was a good sign.

In country areas it was common for young girls

to discover the first letter of their true-love’s

name, by removing the skin of an apple in a

single spiral and throwing it over their shoulder,

to form an initial where it landed.

Meanwhile, in Scotland, young women who ate

an apple in front of a mirror while combing their

hair with the other hand, would see the face

of their future husband appearing in the mirror

behind them.

From ancient times to popular culture, the

apple as a symbolic fruit thrives, as love

and temptation go hand in hand; therefore,

perhaps, the perfect gift for a beloved is a

fruit tree.

An Orchard Odyssey

by Naomi Slade, £24.99,

published by Green Books. Signed copies are

available from Waterstones, Newbury.

www.naomislade.com

@naomislade

The fruit of love

Naomi Slade dissects the sensuous quality of

the apple, from Greek myths and legends to the

Garden of Eden, poetry and old wives’ tales