The Plants Symbol in Greta & Valdin: Growth and Shared Space

What the Plants Symbol Is and Where It Appears in the Novel

Plants in Greta & Valdin function as both literal household objects and a recurring motif for personal growth, emotional care, and the negotiation of shared space. The novel devotes two chapters explicitly titled “Plants” to the motif, and plants appear throughout as a way for characters to express feelings they struggle to articulate directly. From the apartment’s calatheas to the San Pedro cactus Valdin considers buying, from Xabi’s orchard to Ell’s prize-winning marrow, plants carry emotional weight that the characters themselves often cannot voice.

The motif recurs in several distinct contexts: the two “Plants” chapters (7 and 22), the courtship story Linsh tells Greta in Chapter 11, Xabi’s orchard in Chapter 27, Greta’s bromeliad-show lie in Chapter 8, the Plant Barn outing in Chapter 17, and Ell’s marrow story in Chapter 49. Each recurrence shifts the meaning slightly, building a layered symbol that connects to the novel’s themes of family secrets and hidden histories, cultural identity and belonging, queer love and commitment, communication and emotional vulnerability, and sibling bonds and family support.

Plants as Domestic Space and Shared Resources

In “Plants (I)” (Chapter 7), Valdin narrates from the apartment he shares with Greta. He is reading a plant-care magazine from another country, noting that the apartment’s plants don’t match the magazine’s foreign species because the weather is different. The 90 percent humidity suits calatheas. This opening establishes plants as markers of place and adaptation—the apartment’s plants thrive in Auckland’s climate, not the magazine’s imagined elsewhere. The detail also quietly connects to the novel’s broader interest in cultural identity and belonging: plants, like people, need the right conditions to flourish.

The San Pedro cactus fantasy is the chapter’s emotional core. Valdin wants a tall cactus for the corner between the window and the couch, but tall plants are expensive. His solutions reveal his approach to relationships. First he considers getting a boyfriend with a car to drive to a cheaper garden centre, then dismisses the idea over hypothetical drawbacks: a man who gets “funny if you get soil in his back seat,” who wants to know where you are all the time, or who runs a meme page he doesn’t find funny. These are not really about the cactus—they are about the risks of letting someone into your life. His eventual solution, hoping his mother will go halves with him, suggests that family support is his more reliable resource. The cactus represents a desire for growth he cannot quite achieve alone, but he is wary of the compromises that sharing space requires. This connects to the novel’s sibling bonds and family support theme: Valdin’s first instinct is to involve his mother, not a romantic partner.

Plants as Identity and Ambition

In “Plants (II)” (Chapter 22), Greta takes over the plant motif. She wonders what plant she would be, imagining something with big leaves that droop sulkily without the exact right water and light, or a plant with intent to take over, its creeping tendrils climbing a bannister. The first image captures her emotional sensitivity—she needs the right conditions to thrive. The second captures her ambition and her desire to occupy space, even space others consider useless. Her admiration for the monstera that has “taken control over a negative space between buildings” at the university suggests she identifies with things that flourish in overlooked places.

The chapter pairs Greta’s plant meditation with Valdin’s emotional crisis. He enters upset, announces the Buenos Aires trip, and eventually confesses he is still in love with Xabi. Greta’s plant thoughts frame the conversation: she is thinking about growth, takeover, and the conditions needed to thrive, while Valdin is struggling with whether to reach out to his ex. The plants provide a quiet counterpoint to the emotional drama—a reminder that growth requires the right conditions, and that some things thrive precisely in spaces no one else wants. Greta’s closing thought—that she would have sent an email instead of making a phone call—reinforces her character’s communication and emotional vulnerability style: indirect, written, and carefully controlled.

Plants as Love and Care

Plants also function as a love language in the novel. In Chapter 11, Linsh tells Greta about his courtship of Betty, recalling that “she brought all our plants back to life.” This detail, buried in a longer story about their awkward three-year courtship, suggests that Betty’s care for plants was a form of care for Linsh himself. The plants’ revival mirrors the revival of their relationship. The story connects plants to family secrets and hidden histories: the parents’ courtship is revealed through a plant metaphor rather than direct confession.

Xabi’s orchard in Chapter 27 offers a more complicated version of plant-as-care. He built a house in the middle of nowhere and planted an orchard, hiring gardeners after Thony told him he had become “a sad portrait of masculinity.” The orchard represents Xabi’s attempt to build a life, but the grey house, the single bed, and the vase of fresh flowers in a room that “looks like a place people go to die” suggest that growth without connection is hollow. The plants are thriving, but Xabi is isolated. This connects to queer love and commitment: Xabi’s orchard is a commitment to a place, but not yet to a person.

Ell’s marrow story in Chapter 49 is the novel’s most explicit use of plants as emotional expression. Ell tells Greta about the prize-winning marrow she grew with her father at the school fête, which was stolen. She carried the mystery for years, then realized she no longer cares where the marrow went “because I have you. Yer the marrow.” The vegetable—a plant cultivated for competition and pride—becomes a symbol of love, loss, and finally, replacement by something better. Ell’s invitation to Stewart Island is framed through this plant story, making the marrow a vehicle for commitment. The story also connects to queer love and commitment: Ell’s proposal is delivered through a vegetable anecdote, not a conventional declaration.

Plants as Excuse and Evasion

Plants also serve as convenient fictions. In Chapter 8, Greta escapes a bad date by claiming she must attend a bromeliad show in the morning. The lie is absurd enough to be believable—and it lets her exit without confrontation. The bromeliad show is a plant-based excuse that reveals how plants have become part of the characters’ shared vocabulary of plausible stories. Similarly, in Chapter 17, Valdin and his mother plan a trip to Plant Barn, using a plant-shopping excursion as a way to reconnect and check in on each other. Plants provide the occasion for family conversation that might otherwise not happen.

How the Meaning Shifts Across the Novel

Across the novel, plants shift from background domestic objects to vehicles for emotional expression:

• Domestic comfort (Plants I): plants as part of a shared home, requiring care and resources

• Identity (Plants II): plants as self-description, ambition, and the desire to take up space

• Love and care: plants as evidence of care (Betty reviving plants), as commitment (Xabi’s orchard), and as love declaration (Ell’s marrow)

• Evasion: plants as excuse (bromeliad show) and as occasion for connection (Plant Barn)

The two “Plants” chapters bookend the novel’s central emotional developments. In Plants (I), Valdin is single, thinking about getting a boyfriend with a car. In Plants (II), he is confronting his continued love for Xabi and deciding to call him. The plants themselves do not change—but the characters’ relationships to them and to each other do. The motif’s consistency across both chapters suggests that growth and care are ongoing processes, not one-time events.

Study Questions

1. How does the San Pedro cactus fantasy in “Plants (I)” reveal Valdin’s approach to relationships?

Valdin’s desire for a tall San Pedro cactus leads him through a series of hypothetical solutions that mirror his approach to intimacy. He first considers getting a boyfriend with a car to drive to a cheaper garden centre, but immediately imagines the drawbacks: a man who gets “funny if you get soil in his back seat,” who wants to know where you are all the time, or who runs a meme page. These are not really about the cactus—they are about the risks of letting someone into your life. His eventual solution, hoping his mother will go halves with him, suggests that family support is his more reliable resource. The cactus represents a desire for growth he cannot quite achieve alone, but he is wary of the compromises that sharing space requires.

2. What does Greta’s fantasy of being a plant reveal about her character?

Greta imagines herself as either a plant with big leaves that droop sulkily without the exact right water and light, or a plant with intent to take over, its creeping tendrils climbing a bannister. The first image captures her emotional sensitivity—she needs the right conditions to thrive. The second captures her ambition and her desire to occupy space, even space that others consider useless. Her admiration for the monstera that has “taken control over a negative space between buildings” suggests she identifies with things that flourish in overlooked places. This self-description frames the chapter’s emotional content: she is thinking about growth and takeover while Valdin is processing his feelings about Xabi.

3. How does Ell’s marrow story use a plant to express love and commitment?

Ell’s story about the prize-winning marrow she grew with her father, which was stolen at the school fête, becomes a parable of loss and replacement. She carried the mystery of the missing marrow for years, then realized she no longer cares “because I have you. Yer the marrow.” The marrow—a plant cultivated for competition, pride, and shared family effort—becomes a symbol of what Ell values. By calling Greta “the marrow,” Ell is saying that Greta has replaced the thing she lost, and that Greta is worth more than any prize. The story is also a proposal: Ell invites Greta to Stewart Island, framing their future together through the plant metaphor.

4. How do the two “Plants” chapters frame the novel’s emotional arc?

The two chapters titled “Plants” bracket a significant emotional development. In “Plants (I),” Valdin is single and thinking about relationships in hypothetical terms—a boyfriend with a car, the risks of sharing space. In “Plants (II),” he enters the apartment upset about the Buenos Aires trip and eventually confesses he is still in love with Xabi, deciding to call him. The plants themselves are constant—the apartment’s calatheas, the magazine, the fantasy of new plants—but the emotional context changes. In the first chapter, plants are a distraction from emotional questions. In the second, they frame a moment of emotional honesty. The motif’s consistency across both chapters suggests that growth and care are ongoing processes, not one-time events.