You might think a garden gnome is a harbinger of twee, a depressing, frozen homunculus that snails make potty on. How dare you. These could be your friends, or more. Despite their cosy or even complacent reputation, garden gnomes are uncanny. Drawing on pagan gods and Germanic dwarf folklore, they are a nod to the ancient and otherworldly – albeit one that might sit a little strange in this world, today.
What do gnomes do? They fish. They nap. But we could think bigger. Garden gnomes are domestic sculpture, with all the possibilities that entails. What about a garden gnome getting its beard ombréd? Or in despair, filing a tax return? Or taking appropriate revenge on a snail? Gnome culture has grown stale. Are they over? Gno. They are cheerful players with whom to stage the tableaux of who we are. It is quite possible we are entering a new age.
As with Christmas trees and days of the week, paganism sits surprisingly close to us. Its veneration of nature enriches us. If you were to start thinking of your gnome as a household god, wouldn’t your home feel more special? More protected?
If you’re lucky enough to have a gnome, it’s time to deepen the relationship. Like the garden, you get out what you put in. Speak to it. Leave gifts in its wheelbarrow. Tell it your problems and your prayers. It won’t fix anything, because that’s not how problems or prayers work. Or gnomes. But something will be different.
Photograph by Shaw & Shaw
Editor’s note: our recommendations are chosen independently by our journalists. The Observer may earn a small commission if a reader clicks a link and purchases a recommended product. This revenue helps support Observer journalism.