I love Latin plant names. They are elegant and beautiful and often redolent of history and mythology. Most important, the Latin names represent a common language used by plant lovers all over the world.
But my love affair with Latin names is in serious jeopardy right now due to third party interference. The heartless interlopers are a bunch of busybody plant taxonomists who have changed the names of many of my favorite plants. On top of that, the new names are invariably cumbersome, multi-syllabic and cacaphonous.
The sad situation of the beautiful New England aster is a case in point. It has long been known as Aster novae-angliae, literally the “New England star.” That name is poetic. The new name, Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, is not. Tall sedums, like the dusty pink ‘Autumn Joy’, are no longer sedums, now they are Hylotelephium. Even worse, the lovely bleeding heart, Dicentra spectabilis, will henceforth be known as Lamprocapnos spectabilis. Frankly, a “Lamprocapnos” sounds like a lumbering dinosaur, not a spring miracle.
Those who love the multi-colored coleus that fills shady spots with brightness, now have to call it “Solanostemon.” Instead of singing, the new names stumble haltingly from thousands of lips.
I still love the plants, so I will force myself to be familiar with these cumbersome monikers. But when these beauties speak to me in the privacy of my own garden, they will use their old names.