Oranges and Lemons

So how did these sweet and sour fruits become such a relished, yet commonplace, part of our lives? When did lemonade and orange juice become symbols of middle-class contentment? What is a citrus, anyway?

Pierre Laszlo, professor emeritus of chemistry at the University of Liège and the cole Polytechnique, explores the experience of where, when, and how citrus fruits made their way into the Western world and into our daily culture. While Citrus: A History falls short of other recent food histories, it is packed with information on the importance of citrus around the world, and its impact on American life.

We learn, for instance, that citrus fruits were first introduced to the West around the time of Alexander the Great’s military conquests, ca. 300 B.C. Citrus fruits like oranges and citrons (although the reader is hard-pressed to find a description of citrons here) owe much of their widespread transplantation throughout Europe to the Jewish Diaspora, which used citrus for autumn harvest rituals. The permanent establishment of citrus throughout the Western world is due, in large part, to another one of the major religions: Islam. Perhaps more interesting is the fact that the Moors introduced farming methods that would develop into a whole new line of “citriculture,” which emerged to protect citrus plants from harsh weather and damaging insects and pests.

Over the centuries, citrus plants have come to play a myriad of roles in cultural life. In art, poetry, public celebrations, even in war, citrus fruits are identified as symbols of virginity, wealth, love, and fertility. Oranges, which came to represent the warm climates of the south, became a central motif in Flemish tapestries made for the aristocracy and wealthy merchant class in the 16th century. Citrus, which represented luxury and exotic places, became the focal point of Dutch still lifes in the 17th and 18th centuries.

These days, oranges are as commonplace as apples and bananas, so it’s interesting to note that not so long ago they were viewed as an indulgence, a symbol of affluence and peace. For instance, at carnival time, which has been occurring since the 16th century and continues around the world in cities like Rio, Genoa, and Nice, oranges have taken on a festive role and are integrated into parades. Beginning in the Renaissance and up until World War I, a trip to the theater was not complete without buying an orange from a street vendor.

Of course, anything identified as such a lavish item for consumption requires special care. And Laszlo explores the techniques developed to protect and nurture citrus plants. At his palace in Versailles, Louis XIV maintained an orangerie–a long building, similar to a greenhouse, used during the winter to protect nonnative trees such as orange trees. And because citrus came to represent wealth and extravagance, learning to cultivate these favored plants was often perceived as an adventure. Something of a pioneer culture grew up around the fruits and may help explain the rapid development of the citrus industry in the United States, mainly in Florida and California.

One of Laszlo’s more interesting chapters is his discussion of how orange groves in Southern California were integrally connected with western expansion, the completion of the transcontinental railroad, and modern advertising. During the second half of the 19th century, the railroad helped make both California and Southern Florida popular tourist destinations, known at the time as the new Promised Lands of the West and South.

But while Citrus is full of engaging stories and interesting ideas, Laszlo never establishes a true narrative. Instead, he weaves between breezy historical vignettes and an eclectic assortment of facts separated physically on the page by endless line breaks. He includes numerous short recipes that sound appetizing but are too often inserted like bookmarks, sandwiched between a travel story and a “word from the chemist.” And Laszlo gets lost in his own, rather pointed, view of capitalism and American culture, veering off into gratuitous discussions of the “timid” American traveler or the problems of interest-group politics.

Despite this haphazard structure, Laszlo does succeed at offering some interesting historical and cultural insights. He describes the citriculture boom of the late 19th century as a phenomenon rooted in Jeffersonian political theory. Our third president viewed the west as a “blank slate upon which to write a new, more just chapter of human history,” and exhorted settlers who decided to spread the American experiment to the Pacific. With the completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869, it could be said that Jefferson’s vision became a reality; and as Laszlo describes it, those Southern California orange groves made it possible to lay down roots in the west–and for people back east to enjoy a little squeeze of the Promised Land on their breakfast table.

Laszlo also discusses the significant role citrus has played in modern medicine. He devotes an entire chapter to the 20th-century discovery of Vitamin C–the key ingredient in citrus fruit that prevents scurvy–and we learn that, following the global influenza epidemic of 1918-19, orange juice acquired a new, medicinal significance, especially for children. By the 1920s, OJ had become a distinctive feature of the American breakfast.

Ultimately, however, Laszlo falls short of drawing any larger conclusions from this history. He spends the better part of one chapter discussing the health benefits that come from citrus yet fails to highlight the significant shift in the public’s attitude toward the plants: Citrus was no longer an item of extravagance, but a necessity. And it was this change in citrus’s image that eventually opened up new avenues of business and new aisles in the supermarket. Laszlo describes corporate giants and advertising campaigns that emerged from the success of the Southern California citriculture: Sunkist, for example, was the first company to market orange juice (rather than plain oranges) and purchased the slogan “Drink an Orange” from the advertising executive Albert Lasker. The ability to evaporate and extract water from the fruit led to frozen concentrated orange juice and the rise of Tropicana.

Professor Laszlo is not new to commodity literature. He is also the author of Salt: Grain of Life (2002). But his previous work didn’t enjoy the public recognition of Mark Kurlansky’s bestseller Salt: A World History (2002). And, Laszlo is not likely to enjoy widespread praise for Citrus, either. Long on isolated facts–especially crumbs for the chemistry enthusiast–it is short, very short, on style. There is lucidity to Laszlo’s prose, a clarity missing from many histories, but the curse of Citrus is his simple, staccato-like sentences, which can read more like an encyclopedia than a history. He has the right idea in mind, infusing Citrus with a broad expanse of information. But unlike other popular food histories, such as Kurlansky’s The Big Oyster: History on the Half Shell–which is as much a history of New York City, and the transformation of Manhattan from farmland to metropolis, as of oysters–this is a story about citrus plants, and little else.

Sabrina Schaeffer is a writer and consultant in Virginia.