The Last Runaway…

Fancy a bit of light reading, with a sprinkling of history, quilting and forbidden desire? Then this could well be the book for you! It was first recommended to me for its quilting subject matter, but I finally decided to read The Last Runaway, because the jacket claimed it also dealt with opposing attitudes to runaway slaves, and, how Honor Bright (the Quaker heroine) becomes involved in helping runaways escape to Canada. I thought I'd be in for a thought provoking read, perhaps one that taught me something of the people involved in the underground railroad, and which might explain something of the motivations of those opposed to it.

Now, I realise Tracey Chevalier is known for writing entertaining historical fiction rather than weighty academic tomes, but it came as a surprise to learn she's a dab hand at Mills & Boon style prose too! At times, this was nearly laugh out loud funny (and it shouldn't be). The book is laden with clichés and cardboard characters. First there's Honor Bright, the 20 year old sheltered Quaker girl fresh off the boat from England, who although she's done little more than hold hands with a man, is soon romping in a corn field with a Quaker farmer. She quickly marries him but her thoughts (and desires) keep returning to the devilishly handsome and ruthless slave catcher, Donovan Mills, in whom she detects an 'inner light'. This brutal man is somehow, always on hand to leap off his horse, scoop Honor into his lap and carry her to her sick bed, or provide a manly chest for Honor to sob into when she needs it. And, if she were only to say the word he would change his evil ways and become a decent, hard working railroad man. For, you see, ever since their first meeting when he refused to return the key to her trunk, he has worn it close to his heart–talk about laying the symbolism on with a trowel!

The other women in the book, are basically either salt of the earth types, such as Belle Mills (Donovan's sister) and Mrs Reed (a former slave) both of whom help fugitive slaves reach their destination, or sour and jealous Quaker women such as Abigail, and Judith Haymaker. Only Dorcas Haymaker seems to develop in character and offer some insight into her family's reluctance to help runaway slaves.

Ah yes, the slaves…well they do pop up now and again. They are usually nameless, and rarely give an opinion on their predicament, while the depth of the desperation that forced them to risk death, by starvation, hanging, or the bullet because the circumstances of slavery were so utterly intolerable is hardly alluded to.

I was left with the impression that the author had set herself a challenge which she failed to meet. The intention for The Last Runaway must surely have been to offer a thorough and well researched look at the situation of runaway slaves, and the efforts of those helping them escape (the acknowledgements suggest so), as well as the conflicting emotions, prejudices and fears of the communities in which they lived. Yet I couldn't help feel that the runaway slaves served as little more than a plot device for bringing Honor Bright into contact with Donovan and Belle Mills, which is a shame as it does the subject a great disservice.

Still, if you're looking for an stonkingly good holiday read, this is definitely worth a punt (especially if you like patchwork) –just don't expect too much!

Elizabeth,
x.

Boro…

Top of my Christmas reading wishlist was this little volume. I thought it would be a good follow up to Indigo, and on the whole, I think it's a decent book, a far better one than some of the reviews had led me to expect. However, if it really was as expensive as some of the listings on Amazon suggest (I'm far too polite to ask how much my presents cost the giver!) then it is ridiculously overpriced.

Essentially, it is a 128pp monograph that celebrates the collection of Chuzaburo Tanaka. Tanaka recognised the importance of utilitarian textiles as historically significant cultural items, and began collecting boro items form Northern Japan back in his early 20s–he is now in his late 70s. It is probably not too great an exaggeration to say, that Tanaka is almost solely responsible for bringing boro textiles to the world's attention, as then, he was virtually alone in appreciating their worth, and taking the time and bother to collect, preserve, and catalogue them.

The book itself is quite small, and there isn't a lot of text–a handful of short essays, with the rest of the text comprising captions–so it is rather a light book. What little text there is however, is informative, and the pictures are excellent, and include really good detail shots. The design and layout are beautiful and I really like the smaller format. The paperback cover is printed on pleasingly textured, recycled board, and comes with an additional paper wrapper, which cleverly suggests the layering element of boro.

Although I'm delighted to have it in my collection, and would recommend Boro to others, I would have liked it to be more substantial than what is really only an attractive picture book. Perhaps it's because I'm bordering on boro-obsessive that I think the subject warrants the kind of treatment Jenny Balfour-Paul gave her book, but I really would like to learn more. Some web searches have revealed another book on the subject by David Sorgato and Nuzio Crisa, which gets favourable reviews. However, at a scant 96 pages in length and costing upwards of £70, it would have to be Pulitzer prize winning brilliant for me to purchase it. However, if anyone has read it (or other books on the subject) and thinks it's worth the money, please let me know!

Elizabeth,
x.

Indigo: a book review

I've long admired indigo textiles, but it wasn't until I did a course on indigo dyeing that I truly fell in love with them. The whole process–from preparing the vats, wrapping and twisting fabrics, submerging them in dye, waiting, waiting some more, removing the fabric bundles from the vats, then watching any remaining patches of green turn to deepest blue–felt more like alchemy than textiles.

Keen to find out more about indigo and its history, I bought a copy of  Indigo: Egyptian Mummies to Blue Jeans. It is a truly fascinating read, although not a light one, neither is it a 'how to' manual, or a lavish coffee table book. Instead it is a thoroughly researched examination of indigo's cultural, symbolic and economic importance, as well as its environmental implications. If this sounds a little overwhelming, don't be put off, the book is far from dry and heavy-going due to Jenny Balfour-Paul's enthusiasm for her subject. Indigo also contains some wonderful photographs, my favourite being one of Yemen women wearing 'black indigo' dresses, and the most extraordinary hats!

The book explains how, due to wars and colonial expansion, indigo became a hugely important commodity that eventually replaced woad in Europe as the blue dye of choice. I found this particularly thought provoking: having lamely associated indigo textiles mainly with Africa, Asia and the Far East, I looked with fresh eyes at my faded blue jeans and the British Bobby's uniform. In fact, the more you consider indigo–be it in textiles, painting, or even medicine–you realise just how ubiquitous it is, which is perhaps why it's so easy to overlook and take for granted.

The down and dirty nature of indigo dyeing is also covered, including how urine and dog's feces were often (and are occasionally still) used to enhance the dye solution–thankfully this was not considered necessary on my course! Techniques such as batik, shibori and ikat dyeing are well explained, and plenty of beautiful examples shown. However, for me it is the symbolic aspect of indigo, and many of the examples given, that I found totally compelling. Whether it's worn as a sign of fertility (such as Dogon women who wear resist patterned wraps after marriage, then cease to wear them in old age when they are no longer fertile), or as a sign of subservience and equality (Mao suits), or to suggest supernatural power, indigo dyed cloth is more than something to merely cover the body.

Whether woad, indigo, or even purple shellfish, the importance of the blues extracted from them reach far beyond their usefulness as dyes. Sumptuary laws might denote the social status of a wearer of blue or indigo (be it a royal blue silk kimono, or a peasant's scraps of indigo dyed hemp clothing). Blue is associated with divinity, think of Krishna, or the blue robes of the Virgin Mary. In language the word blue is equally potent and may suggest depression, coarse and vulgar humour, and even voices of the oppressed, as in the blues. Subliminally, blue may also bring to mind images of death in myths and fairy tales, such as Bluebeard's castle.

The author ties all of this (and so much more) together in a remarkable book, that ends by championing indigo as an agricultural crop with a potentially positive effect on the environment–although I suspect, she may be a little biased on that point. I can see why though–it's easy to develop a weakness for blue (as an ardent Chelsea supporter, my husband would definitely second that).

If you too are a fan of blue, I can't recommend this book highly enough–you'll never look at a pair of jeans the same way again!

Elizabeth,
x.

The Art of Manipulating Fabric

Anyone who loves fabric and playing with it, be it pleating, smocking, shirring, cording, stuffing, or gathering it into anything from Suffolk Puffs (yo-yos if you're American) to flambouyant ruffles should put Colette Wolff's The Art of Manipulating Fabric at the top of their reading list. An absolute classic, photographed entirely in black and white, illustrated with basic line illustrations, and showing swatches rather than finished pieces, The Art of Manipulating Fabric is nevertheless utterly peerless for the breadth of knowledge and inspiration it contains. I don't think I've ever seen a book that offers as much to everyone from quilters to dressmakers to accessories designers: you could say, I rate this book very highly indeed!

Now that I've almost finished my Star Quilt I'm beginning to think about my next big project. Encouraged by my husband, who loves the seaside as much as I do, I'd like to base my next quilt on a strip of the Kent coast that we both love, and use some of Colette Wolff's techniques to achieve my aims. If you live somewhere exotic, perhaps near the equator even, I imagine that mention of the seaside probably suggests a sunny, golden, joyous place, and hence a quilt based on this would be a riot of colour. But you'd be wrong. I'm from England and it always rains here so the sky is usually grey and foreboding (although, as I write, a strange yellow ball is making a rare appearance in the sky). Besides, the seaside I'm thinking of isn't even the seaside proper, but a stretch of estuary mouth called the  Swale, which eventually becomes the river Thames. Call me perverse but nothing makes me happier than trudging for miles in the wind and rain across stones, shingle and mud flats and scrambling over groins to see what the tide and walkers have left behind.

Who needs sunshine!

It can be a bleak landscape: endless groins (there to prevent the beach being swept away by the tide) and a concrete sea wall (there to prevent flooding) and that's about it, no yachts or fun fairs or ice-cream sellers–maybe the occasional fisherman. The only embellishments on the horizon are windfarms: love them, or loathe them, it's hard to deny the mesmeric power of these graceful, waving giants at sea. It's such a utilitarian landscape, completely lacking in frivolity, and yet, to me at least, the Swale is one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

So my next quilt will be in tranquil tones of grey, sand and stone, which I think suits a quilt intended for a bedroom, and hopefully, what it lacks in colour will be made up for in texture and pattern. Since I want it to have the repetitve, sectional feel of the Swale I'll use a simple Chinese Coins design. I'll machine quilt the plain linen sections that fall between the coins, and try to include some of Wolff's techniques here. The colourful strips could suggest what has been washed up on the shore, and I'd like to add in as much texture as possible here.

I think I may need to do a few test swatches first, but this is my plan, let's see how it progresses.

Elizabeth,
x