Sometimes when I am really looking forward to a book written in the UK, I order it from there. Threads of Life by Clare Hunter was one I wanted to read and so in 2019 when it was first published in the UK, I bought the hardcover version. Which of course completely explains why I just finished reading the book I couldn’t wait to read so much I had it shipped from Europe.
On the plus side, it is marvelous to read the book in the language it was originally written in. Because they change things for the US versions. Did you know this? There is an English translation for the USA. I don’t know if this is always the case, but it was true of James Rebank’s books. I have also bought his books in the UK version because they Americanize the language and in his case, even change the title (!) for the US version.* Can Americans not learn how the British say things? Isn’t it good for us to remember that color can be spelled with a U in it and that the particularly British turn of phrase is fun to come across? Aren’t we smart enough to read books which are, for heaven’s sake also written in English, exactly as they were written?
Anyway, Clare Hunter in the British version was lovely.
Let me get the one thing I didn’t like about this book off my chest right away: there are no photos in it. Hunter mentions her work in community banner making repeatedly and I still have no idea what she means by this. (Ah, maybe if I’d read the American “translation”, it would have explained! Point for the American publisher.) I had a long google and did find some images that included Clare and banners in parades. Do they do this a lot in the UK? Because we don’t march with beautifully stitched fabric banners in the USA. We’re more of a markered posterboard duct-taped to a broom handle sort of people.
So though Clare talks about so many gorgeous textiles, I had to use google to try to find them as I was reading. That leads to a lot of internet rabbit holes, but I learned a lot and bought a book about the Bayeaux tapestry in the process. (No, I haven’t read it yet but that shouldn’t surprise you.)
Threads of Life is one long romp through embroidery around the world. It is full of stories of secret messages and protest, mysteries from centuries ago, and thoughts about the impact of fiber and sewing throughout recorded time. There is much here about why we sew and the whole book is a reminder of how important textiles are to humanity both functionally and as decoration.
Embroidery and tapestry
The quote below was something I thought could also be said about tapestry of the period. She was speaking about Mary Queen of Scots (1542-1587) who was many things, among them an embroiderer (and I believe the subject of Clare’s next book out in 2022 in the UK at least).
“Embroidery was the visual language of the French elite [Mary was sent to France as a child for political reasons]. It was a culture of sophisticated visual communication, of symbols and personal ciphers. Textiles were the most versatile form of visual messaging: displayable, wearable, portable, recyclable, they could carry information from place to place, from person to person. Colour choices declared allegiances and intimate relationships. Stitched politicial and personal statements were declared within the folds of a skirt or on the drapes pulled around a state bed. It was a rich material world. Its presence and practice signaled wealth, power and lineage.”
She goes on to talk about embroidered cloths also being used in public processions and tournaments. “They were vital proclamations of power, disseminating reminders of longevity, virtue, sovereign strength and divine entitlement through family crests, classical and biblical allusions and in the symbolic potency of specific motifs…”
This is exactly the sort of thing we say about tapestry of that period. It was often a status symbol as well as a way of telling the story that the person who commissioned it wanted told to a populace that was largely illiterate.
Favorite stories
There were so many great stories in this book. One of my favorites was about mourning quilts and specifically the mourning and death quilts of Elizabeth Roseberry Mitchell who was married at 18 in 1817 and had 11 children over 24 years. She made a mourning quilt with coffins on it for two of her children who died. But then she made a graveyard quilt for her whole family. I had never heard of something like this and it was fascinating to me. The pattern was an image of a graveyard and there were coffins loosely sewn on for each of her living family members. The two children who had passed had coffins firmly sewn into the graveyard. As family members passed away, their coffins (which Elizabeth marked with slips of paper with their names on them) were sewn into the graveyard picture. The quilt was added to even after Elizabeth died, eventually becoming part of the collection of the Kentucky Historical Society.
This story intrigued me enough that I googled for some images. I found this blog post by Barbara Brackman with more information and some images of the Mitchell quilts. http://civilwarquilts.blogspot.com/2016/06/graveyard-quilts-for-mourning.html
The stories about loss talk about our connection to cloth in times of grief. The chapter also contains the stories of the NAMES Memorial Quilt project (also known as the AIDS quilt in the USA) and the arpilleras sewn in part as communication with the outside world during the military dictatorship in Chile when Salvador Allende was overthrown.
Recommended!
I recommend this far-ranging book to anyone who is interested in the history of textiles. It focuses on embroidery but work in fiber has so many themes woven between the media and this book stitches some of that together.** The book starts with the Bayeaux Tapestry (which is an embroidery) and ends with the usefulness of images made with fiber for social justice. It was an enjoyable journey!
*James Rebanks’ incredible book, English Pastoral, is titled Pastoral Song in the USA. Why Harper Collins? Why?
**with apologies, but fiber metaphors are seeded throughout the English language