The term “conservatory” appears in literature with a rich duality—both as a literal greenhouse and as a symbolically charged space that bridges interior and exterior worlds. In works like The Count of Monte Cristo [1] and Dubliners [2, 3], the conservatory functions as a carefully curated natural retreat, emphasizing beauty and the cultivation of nature. In contrast, in plays such as Henrik Ibsen’s Ghosts [4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12], the conservatory often serves as a liminal zone where characters confront or escape personal conflicts, its transparent walls hinting at hidden truths. Oscar Wilde’s An Ideal Husband [13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19] uses the space to underscore moments of irony and social commentary, while other authors like Edith Wharton [20, 21], Louisa May Alcott [22, 23], and Charlotte Brontë [24] incorporate the conservatory as a setting that nurtures both flora and intricate human interactions. This multifaceted usage illustrates how the conservatory, straddling the line between enclosure and openness, has been a favored metaphorical and physical locale across diverse literary traditions.