Amazon.com In the hearts of the elaborate Renaissance gardens of Italy， writes essayist John Hanson Mitchell， lie small patches of untended ground， overgrown with moss and tangled undergrowth， called boscos. These wild patches are there to remind us of the untamed country that lies far outside the city walls， the abode of wild animals， where wilderness experiences are to be had for the adventurous traveler. A veteran of many such experiences， Mitchell counsels that wilderness does not teach us much about how to live in and with nature; such lessons lie closer to home， for， he writes， wildness "lurks in the wilder corners of suburbia， or even in cities， and exists as potential even in some of the most barren， devastated environments." In The Wildest Place on Earth， Mitchell travels to Mediterranean gardens， writing of their meaning and history. Heeding his own counsel， he also sticks close to his own home， restoring a hardscrabble New England farm called Scratch Flat， building mazes and trellises， and exploring the lessons that making a garden offer a student of the natural world. Though his efforts at environmental philosophizing tend to be underdone， his dedication to gardening is evident， and his account of that hard but rewarding work may inspire like-minded readers to take up their trowels. --Gregory McNamee From Publishers Weekly Mitchell (Ceremonial Time) opens this lush， labyrinthine book with his long-ago encounter， in the American desert， with "a wildman，" "who claimed you could live forever in the wilderness with two or three milk goats and a working knowledge of edible plants." The younger Mitchell embraced this philosophy， but， ultimately， it was in "the most thoroughly transformed landscape of all， the hedged terraces， all‚es， pathways， pools， fountains， and hidden rooms of what was left of the old Renaissance gardens of Italy" that he "rediscovered that old sense of goatly wildness." From the great mazes of ancient Egypt to the 12th-century hedge maze where Henry II's wife murdered his mistress， to the construction of his own backyard maze and tea house， Mitchell explores the wilderness of the human imagination and "the undiscovered country of the nearby." Three of what Thoreau would have called "clews" to Mitchell's project keep cropping up: first， Thoreau's idea of "Contact，" or oneness with nature; second， the contrast between conceptions of true wilderness "as a separate place" with "a certain aura of power or ability to bestow information or insight" and the construction of the garden; and finally， the beloved demigod Pan， who physically embodies both the untamed forests and deserts (his goat half) and sculpted gardens (his human half). Part travelogue， part garden history in the tradition of Edith Wharton's Italian Villas and Their Gardens， this poetic little book traces the transportation of humankind to the wilderness and the transformation of the wild into rich human habitat. Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information， Inc. See all Editorial Reviews