Music and Silence

Yesterday I picked up a friend from hospital and, whilst waiting, I began and finished Rose Tremain's Music and Silence. Full disclosure: while I would rather see Denmark become a republic than remain a monarchy, I do have a favourite Danish king, King Christian IV, and Tremain's novel is set in his court. It is always interesting to see my heritage interpreted by foreigners. Recently I went to Largs on the west coast of Scotland and visited their Viking exhibition. I was unsure of whether to laugh or cry at the incompetent and sometimes plain wrong presentation. Tremain has a firmer idea of what she wants to do with the source material, thankfully. The book is well-researched and coherent. I was quite impressed by Tremain's use of personal names as I've often seen otherwise decent historical novel fail by using anachronistic names. I did wonder about inconsistent orthography ("ø" is rendered faithfully but "å" isn't) but it is a minor quibble.

So Music and Silence is a well-researched novel about the Danish King's court in 1629/1630. You get the full meltdown of the King's relationship with his infamous mistress/Salic wife, Kirsten Munk, and you are also privy to the disastrous economic situation in Denmark following years of warfare and overspending. The book is well-written literary fiction. You would think I would be all over this, wouldn't you? Sadly the book left me cold.

I wanted to spend more time with the King who actually had a larger-than-life personality. I wanted a more nuanced take on Kirsten Munk who becomes Evil Carnated in Tremain's version. I wanted to hear about the King's children (some of whom led incredibly colourful lives). I wanted to know about a country in transit from European superpower to European ruin. I wanted to read about a country where the monarch had continuous problems controlling his own noblemen. Tremain had so much interesting material available to her and I was stuck reading about two dull original characters and their insipid backgrounds. Moreover, I was left feeling that her literary-visual take on a Baroque royal court owed far more to Sally Potter's film adaptation of Orlando than anything else.

Anyway.

This week has been a real beast and I'm yet to send out any of the blog giveaways. I am very sorry. Bar more unforeseen disasters (you don't want to know), I hope to send things out by Saturday. And please cross your fingers that the few remaining days of this week will pass uneventfully.

Saturday Link Dump

I haven't done one of these in ages. Also: insomnia has struck.

• This is my new favourite cartoon. Strong words lurk within, beware.
• Robert Barclay Allardice - The Celebrated Pedestrian: "His most famous feat was the walking of 1,000 miles (1,600 km) in 1000 hours for 1000 guineas in 1809."
• Fancy Fast Food: "Yeah, it's still bad for you, but see how good it can look!" This one is particularly disturbing.
• How To Speak With A British Accent (youtube) is a series of educational videos teaching non-Brits how to perfect their British accent. Well, except that the videos are unintentionally hilarious. I've linked the "Unique Words" video but there are several other gems.
• My mum's local paper had a "best summer photo" competition. This is my absolute favourite entry. Nothing says "Danish summer" like a wheelie bin.
• Via John, the Armenians may be taking Eurovision a tad too seriously..
• The Beauty of Accidents. When a potentially ruined photograph turns out to be strangely beautiful and even better than what you had in mind. Something to keep in mind in these Photoshop days..
• Finally, it took a long time while for Casa Bookish inhabitants to notice but now we're all about Plants vs. Zombies. Pole-vaulting zombies! Dolphin zombies! Pea-shoots! It's maddeningly addictive.

And the Award For Best Knitwear Goes To..

First of all, it is time to announce the winners of my little blog giveaway. Thank you so much to everybody who left me a comment. I really enjoyed looking at everyone's favourites - some very familiar and some very unfamiliar projects among all your suggestions! The skein of Old Maiden Aunt DK yarn has been won by .. Birgitte.

The Ishbel shawl in Kid Silk Haze has been won by .. Meg.

The three crocheted flower brooches have been won by .. Katherine, Laila and xtiand.

The vintage button earrings will adorn Anne.

And the vintage button selection has been won by Anna.

Congratulations to all the winners - I will be in contact with you by either Rav message (if I know you on Ravelry) or by email

Secondly, the illustration and the photo come from  one of my secret vices: vintage knitting patterns. Most of my  local second-hand shops stock  patterns from the late 1970s until the late 1990s, which can be vaguely interesting on occasion, but I much prefer patterns circa 1930 to 1950. The patterns flatter the female figure, are elegant in a timeless manner, and have clever little details you don't get with much later patterns.

Last I visited Denmark I found a pattern book from around 1941 filled with knitting patterns. As it is a wartime publication, you only get a handful of photos but a healthy helping of beautiful illustrations.

Interestingly, the patterns draw inspiration from Scandinavian folklore - reindeer, stars (familiar to many from Selbuvotter), merry dancers and Faroese geometric patterns - and many of the patterns are knitted in very patriotic colours. A little girl is even styled to resemble the little princess Margrethe ( born just five days after Denmark was invaded in 1940). Wartime patriotism, ah.

Most of all I am intrigued by the way instructions are given. A pair of very intricate gloves with embroidery are described thusly: "Start knitting the cuff in the usual manner; 7 centimeters long; divide for hand and start thumb gusset; knit hand until it measures 7 centimeters; divide for fingers; finish each finger; reverse for other hand." The embroidery is described in less succinct terms, thankfully, but there is little doubt that Danish ladies of the early 1940s knew a thing or two about knitting. A little chapter is devoted how to darn socks too. I still remember my great-grandmother darning socks.

I picked up another vintage knitting pattern the other day, an old Patons pattern, which includes instructions on how to knit helmet liners for brave RAF pilots fighting in World War II. The cover features a Hawker Typhoon and one of those brave pilots looking very dashing.

Knitting is social history and I love it.

Magic Tricks and Music Halls

Yesterday I found a new favourite place in Glasgow. Walking into Tam Shepard's Trick Shop is like walking into another world, another era. The shop could have been straight out of the 1930s - except for the Obama masks and the nu-rave-esque wigs. It is a place where the owner will start a Victor Borge routine when he learns you are from Denmark, where a shop assistant will disappear through a hole in the floor, you can choose between twenty different kinds of fake moustaches, and tiny kids stare with much fascination at plastic spiders. Tam Shepard's Trick Shop is a family-run business and it has been going since the 1880s. You can see faded music hall posters bearing the names of ancestors and old photos of dishy dames performing magic tricks. "That's my great-grandma," the woman behind the counter informed me. Glasgow has a very proud music hall tradition, actually, and tomorrow we are off to The Britannia Panopticon Music Hall for a steam punk craft show. The Panopticon is the oldest surviving music hall in Britain - the place where Stan Laurel of Laurel & Hardy made his stage debut, no less, and where a young Cary Grant performed while he was still Archie Leach - and it is a beautiful, almost derelict building. The Panopticon Trust has been trying to save the building for about a decade now but it is still fragile. For more information (and a bit of singing), this youtube clip from the AyeWrite literary festival features Judith Bowers, local historian and secretary of the Panopticon Trust, talking about the music hall. If you are local and you have never been, you can visit the building during the Glasgow Doors Open days in September.

Finally,  I recently subscribed to My Vintage Vogue which is a tumblr feed featuring glamorous photo shoots from the Vogue archives. And I refuse to believe there has ever been a woman quite as beautiful as Cyd Charisse..

The Scandalous Adventures of Lord Byron

Channel4 executive: "OMG, OMG! BBC just had their poetry season and it was so supercool! What do we do?!" Other Channel4 executive: "Is there anyway we can make poetry really sensationalist and entertaining? I mean, I am not not opposed to clever things but poetry is really stuffy, y'know?"

Channel4 Executive: "Uhm.... how about Lord Byron? He was not stuffy. He slept with his half-sister, was 'mad, bad and dangerous to know', wanted to liberate Greece, went a-roving with the Shelleys and wrote really amusing poetry about eating spaniels."

Other Channel4 Executive: "We need a celeb angle. We need.. we could send Rupert Everett around Europe whilst he settles into his botched facelift - and he could talk about Lord Byron's sex life. The incest bit  and how he fancied Percy Bysshe Shelley?"

Rupert Everett: "I'll only do it if I get to say naughty words, show off my naked bum, swim in my underwear with cute semi-naked boys, eat caviar with Donatella Versace, and pretend that Lord Byron is really me, me, me!"

Channel4 Executives: "You're on!"

One Small Step or One Giant Leap?

Yesterday marked the first time I could vote in Scotland. I clutched my polling card, brought ID with me and walked down to the polling place fully expecting to queue for maybe five or ten minutes.  I was the only voter, of course, and in no need of  ID either. I told the poll official that this was my first Scottish election and that I was very excited. She laughed and asked if I had brought my camera as she'd be happy to take my photo. Then I walked into the wrong room through sheer excitement, but finally managed to vote.

Excitement? Quite apart from the joy I always get from seeing democracy at work, I think that yesterday marked the day when I felt I finally have a voice here in Scotland. I'm that tiny bit more Scottish now. A bit more 'home'.

And then I visited a handknitting pirate who showed me how to needle-felt. The technique involves sharp, barbed needles  and obviously I stabbed my thigh a couple of times. I ended up with a little pin cushion which looks quite like a Microsoft icon circa 1996, but I don't really think needle-felting is my thing.

However, then the Pirate showed me how to use a drop-spindle and - holy caramel - I was instantly hooked. I was so hooked that I immediately found a good deal on eBay UK for a drop-spindle kit complete with fibre. It'll arrive tomorrow with any luck. Again, as with knitting, I think it is the feeling of connecting with tradition and history which hooks me.