still the best





Derek is probably my favourite British director & I've been aware of this text for a while since it holds an esteemed place as a kind of sacred text of ecopoetics. So I had high expectations & they were even exceeded I adored this and I'm going to absolutely fail at selling it to anybody

The book came about through Derek deciding to journal the process of developing a garden at his cottage in Dungeness. This is much madder than it sounds - Dungeness is kind of known as 'Britain's only desert' & I recommend a google images for the strangeness. He's growing where nobody would. But the text develops, gorgeously, into a semimemoir of both queer vibrance in the 60s-70s-80s and, unavoidably, the AIDS genocide. This makes the text increasingly heart-wringing- he's plainly dying as the journal progresses & he knows it. Some days the entry is the news of another dead friend. It's perfectly despairingly Jarman I love him lots wish he was still here