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Six Weeks of Solitude: Comforts and Frights

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A sneak preview of my current project. I am test-knitting a pattern for Old Maiden Aunt and I'm quite excited about a new technique I've just picked up. The Six Weeks of Silence idea seemed particularly attractive this morning after waking up abruptly at 5am because of a neighbour getting ready for work and then being kept awake by builders dragging debris down the communal stairs. I was lying in bed dreaming of that little cottage on Skye: no neds fighting in the street, no taxis honking their horns at 3am, no alarm clocks, no thumping bass-lines.. the idea was so overwhelmingly beautiful that I was almost ready to give up internet access, live-in partner and chai lattes. Almost.

Six more books for the Isle of Skye:

  1. James Robertson: The Testament of Gideon Mack: I have already read this book, but that is why I know it'd make a perfect companion for weeks of solitude (although it might just freak me out too).  A (Scottish) book about faith, imagination and how to define reality and truth.
  2. James Hogg: The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner: If Gideon Mack with its strange opaque view of reality is on my list, I should also have the book to which it owes a great deal. A good university friend was a dedicated Hogg fan. I hope to catch up. I also like books that play off one another.
  3. Rodge Glass: Alasdair Gray - A Secretary's Biography: And to round off this small selection of Scottish literature, a book I suspect Father Christmas might give me this year. A biography of one of my favourite authors written in a positively Boswellian manner. And it's all taking place just down the road from my current dwellings. I suspect hermit life on Skye will make me long for the colourful Glasgow West End.
  4. Virginia Woolf: Flush: Some light reading is required, of course. Like most pale, sensitive and female literature graduates, I like Virginia Woolf far too much. I also happen to like dogs (which reminds me: this puppy cam is teh crack) and Woolf has penned a little "biography" of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's cocker-spaniel. When the winds really start getting to me on Skye, I will want to curl up with this book about dogs, poetry and Victorian passions.
  5. Michael Chabon: The Yiddish Policemen's Union: Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay was such a pleasant surprise to me. I had anticipated inflated self-importance in the vein of Dave Eggers or Jonathan Safran Foer or maybe even painful so-called 'literary' writing like Jonathan Frazen or Jeffrey Eugenides (you can tell I have issues with male contemporary American writers) - but Chabon proved an utter delight and I am looking forward to being delighted once more. The Yiddish Policemen's Union even has a character based upon an internet friend of mine which is slightly intriguing too.
  6. Rose Tremain: Music and Silence: A book not chosen for its title but because of its historical setting in my native Denmark. Another book which has been languishing on my shelves for too long and a book where the historical context is so familiar that I look forward to seeing a foreigner's take. Okay, and maybe a tiny bit to do with "silence".

And then the knitting. I wrote yesterday that I had two projects in mind which was not strictly true. I always have a gazillion possible projects running through my head and I spend much time thinking about yarns and pattern combinations. For six weeks of solitude I could easily have chosen half a dozen projects, but the idea is to limit myself.  Six weeks without noise or distractions could easily mean 'difficult patterns which require concentration and dilligence' but my head does not work like that.

The first project would be Kate Gilbert's Union Square Market Pullover in my beloved DROPS Alpaca. I'd use a warm chocolate brown as the main colour and a deep turquoise (or maybe a deliciously brash magenta) as the contrast colour. The choice of pattern is simple: it calls for miles and miles of mindless stocking stitch on 3.25mm needles. I don't think anything short of being marooned on a remote Scottish island for six weeks could ever make me knit that pullover (and yet I love its elegance and simplicity).

Final part tomorrow. Hopefully I will also have a finished knitted object to show you.

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Six Weeks of Solitude: And I Dream of Central Heating

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Saturday's Guardian Magazine had a short, but fascinating, article on the joys of silence. The author of the article, Sara Maitland, rented an isolated cottage on the Isle of Skye for six weeks and attempted to live in complete solitude and silence. She had brought enough food to last her six weeks, a few books and some sewing to keep her company. Her experience makes for interesting reading but it also made me wonder. I am a big fan of silence and solitude myself. It's possibly the aftermath of living in lively student halls for years followed by shared accommodation or maybe it is because I am an only child and spent my formative years playing by myself. The idea of spending six weeks by myself on a remote Scottish island intrigues me - although I would probably never go through with it as I'm very, very fond of central heating, fresh milk and my partner. Still, the idea made me wonder what books and knitting projects I'd bring with me to keep me company for six weeks.

Books. Six weeks equals fifty-six days. Depending upon the book, it would last between two hours and two days. As this would be an exercise in enjoying silence and finding solitude, I would not want to squeeze in too many books, but I wouldn't want to get bored either. Call it fifteen books, okay eighteen books.

  1. Johannes V. Jensen: Kongens Fald [The Fall of the King]: One of the most acclaimed Danish novels and Modernist to boot. I started reading it last year but put it aside when I started to get very busy with work. It would be a return to my native language and history.
  2. William Makepeace Thackeray: Vanity Fair: My good friend Maria once spent her entire Christmas holiday holed up in Inverness with nothing but this book to keep her company. I vaguely remember reading it (maybe just starting it) during my mad "I need to have read all the classics before I turn fifteen" phase. I'd like to revisit it with older, wiser eyes.
  3. E.M. Forster: The Longest Journey: The only Forster novel I have not read (and I even have a lovely copy given to me by my old friend Søren). Realistically, the first novel I would reach for in that little cottage. I like Forster. He is so .. placid on the surface but with so many undercurrents.
  4. Henry David Thoreau: Walden; or, Life in the Woods: What better book to read whilst in an isolated cottage on a remote island than a book written by a hermit about self-reliance, solitude, contemplation, and closeness to nature? Okay, so Thoreau actually lived on the edge of a town and a was a bit of poseur .. but it would be an apt read. I have only read (longish) extracts but Thoreau is both very noble and very, very entertaining (and a bit daft too).
  5. Iris Murdoch: The Sea, The Sea: I think I should get better acquainted with Murdoch. I read and loved The Bell and The Sea, The Sea is said to be her masterpiece. It is also a book about solitude, imagination and truths. An obvious choice, really.
  6. Mikhail Bulgakov: The White Guard: Both The Master and Margarita and The Heart of a Dog were hugely, hugely enjoyable reads (the former ending up as one of my all-time favourite reads, fact fans). The White Guard has been sitting on my bookshelf for the best part of a year. I really need to get around to reading it.

The first six books, then. The next six books will be posted tomorrow and the remaining six on Wednesday.

But what about the knitting? Between eighteen books, me sleeping a great deal and long walks, what sort of knitting should I bring? Six weeks .. that translates into two sweaters and a big shawl, surely? Ah, but I'm not so sure about that. I have two projects in mind. Funnily enough I will be writing about the first one tomorrow and the second one on Wednesday. Stay tuned.

Dudes!

Where on earth do you guys come from? Fourth Edition was started last year after a six-month-ish blog hiatus. Earlier the same year my then blog, Bookish, had been deleted by my then web host (others had similar problems with the company and were far more vocal than me - good on ya, Ras). I was reluctant to start all over with a new blog seeing as I had spent a lot of time building up my 'literary blog' brand courting publishers, readers and other literary blogs. However, I have been blogging since 2001 and enjoy the networking and knowledge-generating aspects of it. A new blog was bound to happen.

I decided that I didn't want to make a huge fuss. Bookish had been outgoing and had a definite target audience. I wanted my new blog to be far more low-key and more personal. Until last night I have not had a stat-meter keeping track of how many visitors I have or even what search-words this blog attracts. I had reckoned maybe ten or twelve unique visitors per day (for comparison's sake. Bookish had a daily tally of around 500-700 regular readers plus spikes when linked on popular sites) but I was very surprised this morning to see around five times as many unique visitors as I had anticipated.

Where on earth do you guys come from?

PS. Don't think I'm not appreciative - I'd be weird if I weren't pleased people stopped by - but I'm just going "but why? right now because I didn't plan this.

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Loot!

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We went to the 3D/2D Craft Fair today. Having recently visited survived the Crafts For Scotland/Hobbycrafts, I was wary of visiting today's fair but came away quite impressed. Not only does this craft fair have superior quality control, they are also far more diverse whilst remaining local. Unlike Hobbycrafts you don't have navigate around bowls filled with glitters or squeeze through packs of people fighting over grossly overpriced novelty yarn. I greatly appreciate that. Anyway, excuse my crap photos.

I like owls a great deal - both because of their association with Athena (the Greek goddess of wisdom and knowledge) and the far more contemporary piece of pop culture that is "Twin Peaks". The owls are not what they seem, you know. So I spotted this pin and loved it on sight.

Sadly I didn't get the vendor's details. He had some ace ceramic flying ducks with rather wonderfully quirky expressions.

My loot also bears testament to my continuing button obsession: these are handmade by Pat Longmuir of 'Paraphernalia' who does commissions too.

I recently bought some über-lovely Berocco Ultra Alpaca in the "Moonshadow" shade. I once said that I wasn't overly concerned with yarn I couldn't buy in this country because I'd always be able to find suitable substitutions. I was clearly wrong because I'm now deeply in love with the Ultra Alpaca and the only substitution I can find is twice the price for yard yardage - and in limited colourways too. Le sigh. Anyway. Pat's buttons might just be earmarked for that yarn..

PS. I'm doing NaBloPoMo in case you're wondering. That means the 'self-indulgent knitting plus random linkage' to 'brainy stuff, you know' ratio is going to be horribly skewed. Just warning you.