Knitting as a popular pastime seems to be making a comeback in the last
year or two. By that I mean that other people besides the die-hard fiber
enthusiasts are taking it up and the publishing industry is responding
with really expensive books geared to the new knitter making faddish
sweaters with ultra expensive yarns. Normally, I page thru the books,
find every glaringly stupid design flaw they have included, sniff and
spend my money on yarn. Badly designed sweaters on twig thin models
aren’t going to look good on the average lumpy body no matter how
expensive that glitzy yarn is. I prefer to spend my book money on books
about knitting history, fiber production and design techniques that work
with more than a $35 dollar an ounce yarn. It really ticks me off when I
see a new knitter struggling with difficult yarn and a badly written
pattern that some shop owner sold her. Anyway, I found this book after
hearing about it at my knitting group and quickly snapped it up.
Annemor Sundbo bought a shoddy factory in a out of the way corner of
Norway as a way to finance her own fiber habit. “Shoddy”, in the textile
industry, is the word for recycled wool. It’s drifted into the common
language to mean “of poor quality” since the recycled wool is no longer
fit to spin for knitted clothing. It’s used, rather, as filler for
quilts, for carpets and for weaving tweed fabrics which are rough and
usually lined in the construction of garments. The factory Sundbo bought
took castoff old woolen garments, and picked and ripped them into shoddy
wool for Torridal Tweeds. However, as she was going thru the warehouse of
old garments she found thousands of garments handknit in folk patterns
dating back at least to the turn of the century. Some were earlier. Truly
a treasure trove for a knitter and a lover of folk knitting. But the
interesting part of the book is when she organizes the garments and then
does historical research using old pattern leaflets, old paintings and
photos and yarn company flyers to date and find the location of where
they came from. She traces patterns to England, Iceland, Sweden, Latvia,
and even Holland in her research. Some of the color designs have roots in
Persian carpet elements. Norway had a healthy sea trade and all those
sailors brought home gifts which were translated into design elements for
sweaters, mittens, and stockings.
The book does have problems. It is badly written and even more badly
translated. There were a couple of times I wondered what she was actually
trying to say and did the translator really know English? Plus, she
bounces all over the place in her organization of the book, making it
difficult to follow the text and giving me a real appreciation of what a
good editor can do for a book. All of that is completely and totally
offset by the fabulous color plates of the sweaters, often placed next to
the painting or leaflet she used to date them with. They were
astonishing. Breathtaking. Inspiring. The pictures are worth the price
of the book alone.
I am looking for someone to knit an orginal Setesdal sweater for me. Is their a source like Devold that has inventory of the Setesdal sweaters. Please reply.
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