Editorial Content for Knitting Pearls: Writers Writing About Knitting

Many of us have encountered that famous Shakespearean line in English lit class about “sleep, that knits up the raveled sleeve of care…” (Macbeth, Act II, sc. 2)

Knitting is such a universal image that non-knitters relate to its metaphorical energy as deeply as those who seem to have been born with double-pointed needles, stitch-counters and multi-colored yarn in their hands. In KNITTING PEARLS (the title is an obvious pun to those who actually knit-purl), editor Ann Hood lets the point prove itself by giving 27 writers, six of them male knitters, free rein to reveal how the art and craft of transforming fiber into apparel has shaped their lives.

Ironically, the majority of her contributors don’t knit well, used to knit and gave it up, are adamant about not knitting, are anxiety-ridden about it, or are even wholly disinterested in learning. That leaves only a few who actually knit…and write. But this tangled collective relationship with yarn simply adds a bonus layer of charm to an absorbing collection of mini-memoirs. It’s the elusive, unintentional, surprising, inconclusive and even ambiguous effects of knitting that capture one’s emotions and imagination.

"...a marvelous compendium of thoughts, moments and aspirations about knitting, a genuine must-read for anyone who ever picked up needles and yarn --- or, even in a weak moment, merely thought about it."

Childhood memories of being abundantly knitted for are plentiful in KNITTING PEARLS, ranging from guilt over hating a garment into which much love and skill was invested, to poignant nostalgia over woolly gifts that symbolize long-ago good times and long-gone special people.

A good deal of hard-won personal wisdom is also found amid a number of confessions about unfinished projects --- writers who seek deeper reasons when lack of time, ability or motivation just won’t do for honest answers. At moments like those, a story about knitting becomes a story about walking through the grief of childlessness, the wounds of a broken marriage, the loss of dreams, the separation of death and other transformative life events that bring acceptance, if not immediate resolution.

One recurring motif that’s somewhat surprising in our era of high-tech novelty and disposable consumerism is the knitted Christmas stocking. I’ve done more than my share and can attest that those garish, whimsical creations with angora-bearded Santas and personal names knitted in aren’t that easy! But they figure persistently in many writers’ fondest memories of family celebrations and tend to be kept long after childhood.

KNITTING PEARLS balances informal reflections on the sociology and psychology of knitting with heartwarming stories of fulfillment and achievement; watching children pick up the craft and knit for a new generation; seeing a finished project clothe its maker not only in fashion but in self-esteem; feeling the joy of giving as deeply as that of receiving.

Tucked in between the stories are six real and accessible patterns contributed by knitting boutiques across America. It only adds to the tantalizing effect to find no pictures of the finished items. Was this by omission or design? Perhaps we can indulge in virtual as well as real-world knitting, first by reading and then by attempting them!

The most interesting omission, however, is any reference at all to those wonderful coffee-table books featuring beautifully photographed creations of knitting artists like Kaffe Fassett or, for that matter, any of the lavishly produced pattern books by major yarn suppliers. Cooking and gardening enthusiasts have their picture books to drool and dream over; knitters have them too, and I’d have gladly written my own little essay about the guilty time-stopping pleasure of poring over their sensual pages.

But KNITTING PEARLS is still a marvelous compendium of thoughts, moments and aspirations about knitting, a genuine must-read for anyone who ever picked up needles and yarn --- or, even in a weak moment, merely thought about it. Yes, you too belong in the fold.