Literary Handwork

Reading and handwork make a perfect pair, in my opinion: the two things I enjoy doing most, miraculously combined. Sometimes I even enjoy the reading more than actually doing the thing itself. And on those occasions when a project outlasts enthusiasm, what better to rekindle the fires than finding the same spark in a book?
Albert Anker - Strickendes Mädchen beim lesen (1907)
Happily, literature is full of examples of hand-workers – particularly in those classics which were written in the days when handwork for women was just ‘work’ and everyone (unless a gentleman of the purely decorative class) was expected to keep themselves busy.

So it is with the Dashwood girls in Sense and Sensibility. “Sir John Middleton, who called on them every day for the first fortnight, and who was not in the habit of seeing much occupation at home, could not conceal his amazement on finding them always employed.”

Or take Mansfield Park, also by Jane Austen. One of her more underrated books, I feel, with one of her more underrated heroines. Fanny is always busy with handwork: her own, or someone else’s. Helping Aunt Bertram the indolent, or being press-ganged into the thrifty machinations of Aunt Norris. And unlike her cousins, she does work of a high calibre.

Mp-Brock-10Then there are the March girls in Little Women, who ” adopted Jo’s plan of dividing the long seams [of sheets] into four parts, and calling the quarters Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and in that way got on capitally, especially when they talked about the different countries as they stitched their way through them.” The book also includes knitting, dressmaking (for humans and dolls), and the embroidering of a pair of slippers (“grave yet cheerful pansies on a deeper purple ground”).

Not all literary hand-workers are enthusiastic. Catherine, from Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman, is continually being nagged by her old nurse Morwenna to work on her spinning, sewing, embroidery and the like, when she would rather be running wild outside. “They found the remains of several spindles, many skeins of wool, and an unfinished tapestry in the muck from the privy. Why is everyone so certain they are mine?”
Reine Berthe et les fileueses, 1888
Other fictional handworkers include Miss Silver, who is always knitting something, usually for her great-niece or great-nephews, and who designs and executes her own crochet trimmings to boot. Miss Marple also knits, but in less detail. Devotées (or, indeed, devotés) of quilting can enjoy the works of Jennifer Chiaverini and Earlene Fowler. Embroiderers, or those considering taking up embroidery, should make a beeline for Embroidery Mary.

On the non-fiction side, there are plenty of books about the history and practice of various crafts, and then there are books of craft humour. Stephanie Pearl-McPhee is an outstanding outlier in this field.

For those who are passionate about both literature and craft, there are books of crafts inspired by books, which you can add another layer to by making the crafts from the books of crafts inspired by books. While reading the originatory books, if you want to complete the circle and you have the much-desired (by me at least) ability of reading while working with your hands.

Meyer von Bremen Strickendes lesendes Mädchen 1863Alternatively, you can follow the grand old tradition of having one person read while everyone else handworks; or its modern, more solitary equivalent: the audio book.

What are some of your favourite handworky books? Recommendations eagerly sought!

15 Favourite Children’s Books

Reading was one of my favourite activities as a child – still is, in fact – and of course, good children’s books are a pleasure to all ages. Here are some of my favourites, in no particular order.

Wilcox
The Monster at the End of This Book (starring lovable, furry old Grover) and written by Jon Stone. A brilliant example of how you can play with the physical bookness of a book (although I hear the tale has now made an appearance on Twitter).

The House that Sailed Away by Pat Hutchins. Grandma! Cannibals! Pirates! The first time I ever encountered the word posthumous! (Side note: why is it that cannibals are always depicted as boiling people in large iron pots? If you live on a desert island, as such cannibals generally do, where on earth are you going to get a large iron pot from?)

The Search for Delicious by Natalie Babbitt (perhaps better known for her novel Tuck Everlasting). This is the kind of book I hope to be able to write, and you can’t say better than that.

Carved Stone Mermaid Mural
Big Max by Kin Platt is possibly the first detective story I ever read. Big Max is the greatest detective who ever lived. Everyone knew it. The King of Pooka-Pooka knew it, which is why he called Big Max in when his pet elephant Jumbo went missing. It has been decades since I last read this book, but the phrase “The King of Pooka-Pooka knew it” is still current in my family.

My Cat Likes to Hide in Boxes is a New Zealand book, written by Eve Sutton (and illustrated by Lynley Dodd, who went on to write the Hairy Maclary books). Cats from around the world do marvelous things, but “my cat likes to hide in boxes.” This book shall forever live in family history as the reason for the following exchange:

Father (who ought to have known better): Look, there’s Mr. Anon! He’s from Norway.
Small children (with gusto): “The cat from Norway –”
Father (knowing how it ends): Shhh! Shhhhh!

Cat refuge (423926200)
Embroidery Mary by Priscilla M Warner is a book that I have loved for years. The little community library where I grew up had the only copy I have ever seen, and great was my delight on the day when it was decommissioned because it had only been borrowed twice in the past ten years (and both of those borrowers were me).

The Warden’s Niece by Gillian Avery tells the story of Maria, a Victorian-era girl who flees her bullying school and is taken in by her uncle, the Warden of an Oxford College – mostly because he is impressed by her dream of becoming Professor of Greek (this was at the point when women had only just been admitted as students).

Mistress Masham’s Repose by T.H. White (better known perhaps for his book The Sword in the Stone and its sequels) is the story of another Maria; a delightfully odd book, full of crumbled grandeurs and vigorous characters. My favourites are Cook (“Any character of yours, Mum,” said Cook superbly, “is what I’d not besmirch my own possession of which with the application of,”) and the classic absent-minded professor.

Beginning reader
Toot by Leslie Patricelli is not a book I enjoyed as a child, mostly because I was in my late twenties by the time it was published. It is a children’s book, however, and it is a favourite, so I make no excuses for including it here. Toilet humour may be considered infra dig by some, but I, like C.S. Lewis, have grown out of wishing to be thought terribly grown up.

Speaking of C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia are such widely cherished favourites that I had probably better be a bit more detailed in my preferences. I particularly enjoyed reading (and re-reading) The Horse and His Boy; and often also The Magician’s Nephew. The Last Battle, on the other hand, I mostly only liked the ending of.

The BFG (by Roald Dahl) is another of those once-read-never-forgotten stories (with, of course, a certain amount of tooting, or rather whizzpopping, of its own). I find it hard to pin down what it is I love about this book, but I do.

The Long Patrol by Brian Jacques was the first Redwall book I ever read – I picked it out by chance in a bookshop – and from the first I loved its unashamed adventurousness. Good stuff.

At A Reading Desk by Frederic Leighton
A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett is one of those books which combines dreamy wish-fulfillment with the comforting knowledge that someone has it worse than you, and if they can hack it with grace – and of course, imagination – then so can you. And of course, everyone gets what they deserve in the end, which is always satisfying.

Of course, not everything I read as a child was fiction. There was the children’s encyclopaedia, for a start. I don’t remember what sort it was, but it came in a number of volumes and was my invariable resort when I’d run out of other reading. But I usually started afresh from the beginning of Volume 1 each time, thus learning a fair bit about Abbeys and Abbots if nothing else.

And there was a book of crafts which I still wish I could find a copy of, full of vintage photos and fun things to make. There was a stuffed toy lamb with wire coat-hangers keeping its legs straight; a gardening set which included a rake and wheelbarrow; and dozens of other things. If anyone knows the book, and where I can find a copy, I shall be greatly indebted to you and all my sorrows shall be at an end.

William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905) - The Difficult Lesson (1884)
What are your favourite children’s books? Have you re-read them recently? Feel free to share your recommendations!
Oh, and the cat from Norway, in case it is still preying on your mind, “got stuck in the doorway.”

Threading a Needle with Wool

“But how do you make the wool go through? It’s horrid to lick, too. All the whiskers come off.”Threading a needle with a rope.
“Don’t you know the special way of threading wool into a needle?” asked Aunt Helen, laughing. “How about when you darn your socks?”
“Mummy does them,” said Mary, going a little pink. “Yes – I know I’m spoilt. Gran says so. But with homework and everything, and going to bed early, there isn’t much time. Besides,” in a small voice, “it’s awfully boring.”
“Well, I’m not really one to talk,” said Aunt Helen, “as my mother always darned mine. Come over here and I’ll show you how to thread a wool needle. Look – fold it round the shaft of the needle, pinch it together so that it makes a little loop, and slip it off. Now push the loop through the eye of the needle and it goes in quite happily.”

from Embroidery Mary by Priscilla M Warner