Author Interview: Jules Jacob & Sonja Johanson of Rappaccini’s Garden
Poetry, Poison Plants, and Spirituality
Hello and good morning, everyone—
Today in The Madhouse, I’m excited to bring you a botanical interview with poisonous poets Jules Jacob and Sonja Johanson of White Stag Publishing. I had the pleasure of receiving their collection, Rappaccini’s Garden, which included these beautiful plant stickers, a soy wax candle from Marvel + Moon, and a small vial of tobacco perfume. Everything from start to finish was this gorgeous sensory experience, and I loved the mystery and earthiness it grounded me in.
Jules and Sonja graciously took some time to chat with me about their work, and I hope you’ll join us below as we walk through a sunlit forest in the lush heat of summer, where together, we’ll uncover myths, fairytales, and a little witchery for good measure.
SMW: Hi Jules and Sonja! Welcome to The Madhouse Review. Since this is your first time joining us here, can you tell us a little bit about yourselves and what drew you to poetry in the first place?
Jules: My fascination with nature began when I was quite young. The first plants I identified were common flowers and poison oak and ivy. My father is a former high school science teacher with degrees in botany and chemistry. He piqued my interest in toxic plants and a desire to eventually train to become an Emeritus Master Gardener with the University of Missouri Extension and a certified Horticultural Therapist credentialed through Colorado State University and the Horticultural Therapy Institute. My mother is a retired English teacher whose contagious love of reading and libraries and knowledge of literature and poetry were intrinsic to my absorption with reading and writing.
Sonja: I currently run the horticulture division of a small landscape firm; for many years before that I held various administrative roles in a Master Gardener organization, and my undergrad was in ecology. I also forage extensively; I live and breathe the plant connection. Poetry picked me when I was in grade school. I blame Dickinson and Poe for that.



SMW: What was your writing process like for Rappaccini’s Garden?
Sonja: Some poems in this collection were written individually; others were written collaboratively. All pieces were written with a goal of creating an interactive chapbook and went through multiple drafts by both writers.
Jules: Sonja and I already had some poisonous plant poems published before Sonja suggested we collaborate on a chapbook but we didn’t attribute specific poems to one writer or another in the acknowledgements, preferring that the collection have a voice of its own.
SMW: “Rappaccini’s Daughter” is a dark, magical story by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I love the way it dances around the gothic and the femme fatale while exploring the seduction of [human] nature. What initially drew you to this story? And how did you incorporate the original source material into your work?
Jules: “Rappaccini’s Garden” grew out of a mutual love and fascination for poisonous plants. I was drawn to Hawthorne’s short story after learning the Batman character Poison Ivy is widely considered to be inspired by Beatrice in “Rappaccini’s Daughter.” We incorporated original source material such as quotes, toxic plant themes, and as you pointed out, the seduction of nature and human nature and the femme fatale—ours a misunderstood woman struggling for growth and free will who dares to question authority, whose good nature can turn when subdued or isolated.
Sonja: I would say there is not so much a direct correlation between the story and this collection, but that they relate with regard to the theme of toxic plants. If there is one place the two pieces of writing have an opportunity to intersect in a surprising way it is through the female voice. Really these are all persona poems, and the speaker—plant or person—is distinctly female. In Hawthorne’s story the daughter—Beatrice—was an object being acted upon by the two male characters. She never really had the opportunity to speak for herself. The plants and women in these poems have a lot to say, and maybe here we can also imagine what Beatrice would add to the conversation.
SMW: You named your poems after various plants. How did you settle on the ones you chose to include/write about in your manuscript?
Jules: We made individual lists of our favorite poisonous plants and conferred over our selections, picking the ones we felt were best suited for our vision for this collection.
Sonja: We were especially interested in each plant’s mythology and how they became a part of local folklore, how they were used—herbal and otherwise—and the cultural heritage of the regions in which they grew.
SMW: In your opening poem “Rosary Pea,” there are some beautiful nods to prayer and hymns: “beads, stringing ten decades/of Hail Marys preceded/by Our Fathers hawking/rose gardens of prayers.” Can you speak to the influence that religion or religious practice/iconography had on you both while writing this collection? Do you have or see a spiritual connection to botany itself?
Jules: I was raised Catholic and attended Catholic schools for several years. I have a strong spiritual connection to flora and fauna and feel closer to “God” in nature than inside a church. In “Abrus precatorius Rosary Pea,” the speaker represents women oppressed by various religions including Islam, “luster-stripped women walled-in al hadiqa,” and Catholicism, specifically via a rosary made with toxic beads representing fifty Hail Mary prayers, each prayer offered to the Virgin Mother to atone for sins. Ironically, rosary peas used to string rosaries are more toxic than ricin; the ingestion of a few uncooked peas can kill you. Ethno-botanical uses in third-world countries include using a paste of the roots to speed up labor, treat abdominal pain, prevent pregnancy, and induce abortion.
Sonja: I am a dyed-in-the-wool atheist, so any religious references by me occur because the imagery is inseparable from our culture. That said, to the extent I experience spirituality, it is through a profound sense of connection with the natural world. When I first read Francis Halle’s “In Praise of Plants” it took my breath away; I think everyone understands intellectually that we depend on plants for our survival, but his writing elevates that relationship to a position of holiness.
SMW: I found myself coming back to “Poison Ivy,” a piece filled with sensual, lush imagery: “I cling to those temptation woos/closer I will tendril fingers/brush rushinol between breasts/and lips, your oiled hands forever/touching.” How did you both balance the erotic with the sacred in your work?
Sonja: Jules’s poems are a wellspring of sensuality— much of that imagery is hers specifically.
Jules: Thank you, Sonja. Passion and the temptation to stray from the path—this poem harks back to a common theme in my poetry, which is the creative/destructive duality inherent in nature and human nature i.e. the commingling of beauty and toxicity. The erotic or sensual and sacred often emerge unintentionally when I work within this theme. I try to balance them by acknowledging and braiding their existence into my poems.
SMW: Something I deeply admire about your collection is your line work. Can you talk about how you approach the line and work with breath in your poetry?
Sonja: A lot of my work in this collection is metered, and the lineation reflects these conventions. I’d say that’s a hint about which pieces I was first author on, but it is true for Jules as well. But there are also a number of free verse pieces where we used idiosyncratic spacing to teach the reader where to pause in the reading. I think those pieces, in particular, went through quite a few revisions until we were both satisfied with the breaks.
Jules: I keep a copy of my poems’ original drafts to allow the free flow of words and lines time to settle and pull additional insights, themes, or images from life or the subconscious. Adding or breaking lines to affect rhythm, form, and visual effect as Sonja and I revised gave each poem the opportunity to breathe and read as naturally as possible.
SMW: This collection wove themes of poison, protection, and healing throughout. I especially loved your poem “Stinging Nettle” as that is a plant I work with quite a bit in my practice. Did you approach this project as an interactive grimoire of sorts?
Sonja: It definitely could be! Though a grimoire wasn’t our original intent, the collection did morph into that; all of these plants have been used for centuries as poisons, medicines, and magical herbs. “Stinging Nettle” is a retelling of Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Wild Swans”. The main character, Elisa, is weaving coats of stinging nettle which will transform her brothers from swans back into their human forms. As a child I loved this story, but did not understand about the stinging nettles— that seemed like a fantastical element in the story, but at the time of writing it would have seemed like commonplace. When I had my first encounter with stinging nettles as an adult (ouch!) it prompted me to do a deep dive on their use in textiles. Anyone who lives where stinging nettles grow should go through the exercise of making cordage; this gives you real insight into how much work it would have been to make clothing out of the plant!
SMW: What poets are you currently reading? Are there any collections you want to add to your TBR list?
Sonja: I’m working through Jill McDonough’s “American Treasure”.
Jules: I’m reading “Psychic Party Under the Bottle Tree” by Jennifer Martelli. Next in line is “Cloud Missives” by Kenzie Allen and “Trophic Cascade” by Camille Dungy.
SMW: What’s next for your readers?
Jules: I’m writing poems which explore resilience and the myths and conundrums of “truth” as it relates to current sociological and ecological changes in our evolving/devolving landscapes.
Sonja: I’m in a bit of a fallow period for writing; my day job and family responsibilities have shifted dramatically since 2020, and I haven’t had the quiet, meditative time that I used to have. I’m learning a tremendous amount through my work though, and I know that content will eventually emerge in my writing.
Poet Biographies:
Jules Jacob is the author of three collections including Kingdom of Glass & Seed (Lily Poetry Review Books, October 2023) and Rappaccini’s Garden (White Stag Publishing, August 2024), an illustrated collection of poisonous plant poems co-authored with Sonja Johanson. Jules’ poems, author interviews, features, and book reviews appear or are forthcoming in Tupelo Quarterly, Plume, Lily Poetry Review, Rust + Moth, Laurel Review, Poetry is Bread and elsewhere. Jules is an Emeritus Master Gardener, recipient of a fellowship from the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts in Auvillar, France and former Court Appointed Special Advocate for abused and neglected children. Visit julesjacob.com
Sonja Johanson is a New England poet whose work focuses on ecology and feminism. She has work appearing in numerous journals and anthologies, including American Life in Poetry, BOAAT, Mid-American Review, Poet Lore, THRUSH, and the Best American Poetry blog, and has served as a contributing editor at the Found Poetry Review and Eastern Iowa Review. Sonja is the co-author of Rappaccini’s Garden (White Stag Publishing) and author of three chapbooks: Impossible Dovetail (IDES, Silver Birch Press), all those ragged scars(Choose the Sword Press), and Trees in Our Dooryards (Redbird Chapbooks). Sonja divides her time between work in Massachusetts and her home in the mountains of western Maine.
How fascinating to see both their POVs—on religion, on how they actually write, and even what they're reading (or taking a break from). I loved this read. ALSO, shout out to the wonderful White Stag, who brings such unique work to the world.