Weekend Review: Velvet

 

Velvet / Huzama Habayeb
trans. from the Arabic by Kay Heikkinen
Cairo: AUC Press (Hoopoe), 2019, c2016.
312 p.

I wanted to read this story as soon as I saw in the blurb that learning to sew helps the main character construct her life. But it's also the story of a woman raised and living her whole life in a Palestinian refugee camp.

Hawwa grows up in the camp with her family; harsh mother, cruel father, sisters and two brothers. Their father is an angry man and beats his children and wife, and worse. One of Hawwa's brothers grows up with this behaviour reflected in the way he lives his own life, as well. 

She learns to sew as a teenager after being apprenticed to Sitt Qamar, a  glamorous seamstress who lives in a nearby town. (There is a chapter in this section that moves away from Hawwa to tell us Sitt Qamar's own tragic love story). Sitt Qamar loves fabric and stitching, and during Hawwa's time with her, Hawa learns about the luxury of beautiful fabrics, being a businesswoman, and a more independent way of life. The existence of velvet is a sign of a richer, more 

Velvet has an aroma of its own, Sitt Qamar would tell her. “It's the aroma of warmth, of dormant heat, of depth and expanse; it's the aroma of wishes and desires, of maturity, maturity of love and of age; it's the aroma of clean flesh, of flesh suffused with yearnings and the sweat of lust.”

As it turns out, Hawwa is a natural, and becomes a gifted seamstress herself. But as we meet the middle-aged Hawwa at the start of the book, she has splurged on a length of pale blue velvet (silk velvet, no poly blends for her) for a wedding dress -- there is a sensuous description of velvet and the secret joy she has in it, imagining her wedding outfit. 

She has fallen in love with a gentle man, some years after being divorced by the abusive husband she was married to by her parents when she was young. She is now caring for her cruel but decrepit mother, and puts off remarrying because she's afraid of what her brother and her son will say - she's been meeting her new love privately, a no no in the eyes of the horrible men in her family. 

The brother she protected all her life, and the son she cared for, treat her like a food producing machine and money dispenser; they are utterly useless and disrespectful of all women, but somehow especially Hawwa. She prepares a big dinner for them, planning to tell them about her intention to marry, but things do not go well. They have already heard. 

The violent ending was a shock and ruined this book for me, I couldn't take it. I was completely engaged in the story, and imagining just one good thing for Hawwa right alongside her. I understand the events of the story, I can see how it came to the conclusion that it did, but I didn't like it. It just seems like there was so much constant misery for all the women in this book, from Hawwa to her mother and sisters and relatives. Only Sitt Qamar seemed to control her fate, but in the end it was a man who destroyed both her business and her life. 

I thought this was a powerful book, worthy of its Naguib Mahfouz Literary Award, but I just wish that the misery was not quite so unrelenting, that these women were given even a ghost of chance. 

Weekend Review: All That Glitters

All that Glitters / Martine Desjardins;
trans. from the French by Fred Reed & David Homel
Vancouver: Talonbooks, c2005
160 p.

I'm a big fan of Quebec writer Martine Desjardins, who has a novel about Medusa that has recently been translated. This made me think of some of her older books that I've read, and realized I've never shared this novel here; it includes quite a bit of unusual embroidery, so I think some of you might enjoy it too! I first read this book over 15 years ago, but I recall it very clearly. This review first appeared in slightly different form on my book blog way back then. 

All That Glitters is set in Flanders during WWII. It is the story of Canadian and inveterate gambler Simon Dulac, who has enlisted in the military police. His interest in the war is that it gives him the chance to roam around an unsettled France, looking for the treasure that the Knights Templar left buried somewhere in Flanders centuries before. It is a nod to the codes and mysteries of books like The Da Vinci Code, but told in the surreal manner of her previous novel. The two supporting characters are Dulac's Lieutenant Peakes, a man obsessed with metalwork as well as rebuses and secrets, and nurse Miss Nell, who became a field nurse in order to practice suturing wounds, something nurses were not normally permitted to do at the time. She sutures them not with neat black stitches, but with fanciful embroidery, usually in a form of a rebus related to the patient's name. She also practices on herself; she has a feather stitched into the interstice between her thumb and forefinger, and eventually shows Dulac the rebus embroidered within her cleavage - a many-rayed sun with an "N" in the centre.

Dulac struggles to interpret the clues he serendipitously comes across, and thinks he has figured out where to look for the fabled treasure. His lieutenant, injured by a bomb blast and then fitted with a metallic half mask, is now behind lines and has time to use his genius at codes to puzzle out the revealed clues. He finally reveals to Dulac the 'true' interpretation of these clues, and it is a sudden revelation of how the things Dulac struggled to invest with meaning can be seen in a completely different manner. He should have kept in mind the proverb suggested by the title! It's a bit of wink at the obsession with mysterious treasures and conspiracies, but it does feel a bit abrupt, leading to a quick and dire conclusion.

I liked the war setting; it made sense to use this time period for this story, and she paints a clear picture of opportunists at war. The writing style is brief and unsentimental, which adds to the feeling of dissociation from society that all the participants seem to feel. The combination of war, secrets and codes, hidden treasures, and the strangeness of embroidered skin are woven together to make a fascinating reading experience.

Weekend Review: Cross-Stitch, a novel

 

Cross Stitch / Jazmina Barrera
trans. from the Spanish by Christina MacSweeney
San Francisco: Two Lines Press, 2023, c2021.
224 p.

When I first heard about this book during Women in Translation month, I knew it would be one I would have to read. It's a translation of a novel by a Mexican writer, which explores the role of female friendship, interspersed with the history of embroidery, to create a resonant feminist narrative. I really loved it. 

Our narrator, Mila, is now a young mother and a writer whose book on needlework was recently published. But as the story opens, she hears about the drowning death of her old friend Citlali, who along with another friend Dalia, made up a high school triangle of best girlfriends. 

Mila's narrative spools back in time, to go back to the beginnings of their friendship, to illuminate how the balance of power shifted between them, and how there were experiences that they kept private from one another even with their strong bonds. Like the author noted in an interview, there is always something that we won't know about another person, no matter how close. 

The friendship covers many tumultuous years of adolescence and young adulthood. They face sexual harrasment, abuses, everyday misogyny, as well as the trials and disillusionments of growing into adulthood. At one point, the three plan to meet in Europe (where Citlali is already living) to have a Big Trip together. But it doesn't go quite as planned - Citlali doesn't meet them in England, only making it to Paris later on; Dalia and Mila have different ways of travelling and sightseeing and have to negotiate daily routines. This felt so realistic, how you have to manage these close relationships and can be utterly annoyed with one another even while remaining the same depth of friend. 

And through their years of friendship, they all embroidered together. From samplers and unique projects in high school (like Citlali's ambitious goal to embroider an Arachniary of all known spider species) to more complex art based embroideries as they grow up - like Mila's monochrome black on black embroidery meant to emphasize texture - they've always stitched together, despite it being a bit of an outlier hobby. 

Barrera includes small sections interspersed with the fictional narrative which detail and reflect on the history of stitching, mainly as it applies to women's lives and whatever is going on in the story. There are mentions of embroidery around the world, and how it appeared both as a language and means of expression whether personally or politically. And what the role of art is, and the relation to stitching. These are facts drawn from embroidery history texts, which the author also shares in a bibliography. 

Eventually Mila and Dalia resolve their memories and come together to create a memorial for Citlali in their own neighbourhood, even including Citlali's mostly awful father. The final scene is memorable, and involves Citlali's stitching. 

I found this book thoughtful and stylistically engaging. The tone is clear and nostalgic in one sense, though never sentimental. The writing style is natural but also has a poetry to it, with imagery, resonance and the inclusion of other women's words; I appreciated the style of this novel. The way that fiction and fact are interwoven throughout the story was smoothly accomplished, and I felt that it added an extra layer of interest both in subject matter and in style. 

The characters are also fascinating. The three girls are different in many ways, but the development of their friendship felt so true to high school dynamics, as did the way they grew apart as they became adults. I think if you read for writing and characters, you will appreciate this book. And, if on top of that you are also a stitcher and appreciate the role of embroidery in women's history, I think you will love this book. 

Highly recommend. 

You can read more about it, including author interviews and a reader's guide, at the publisher's website if you are interested.

Weekend Review: The Seamstress of Sardinia

The Seamstress of Sardinia / Bianca Pitzorno
translated from the Italian by Brigid Maher
NY: HarperPerennial, 2022, c2018.
287 p.

It's 1900 in Sardinia, and a young girl lives with her only surviving relative, her grandmother. Her grandmother is a seamstress, and to help scrape out a living, the girl learns to sew from a very young age.

This young sartina (seamstress of sheets, linens and basic clothing) relates her life story from her youth to her advanced age. And as she does so, she sheds light on the society she lives in. As a seamstress who goes to people's homes to do their sewing, she is privy to many family secrets. The book is told in episodes that interrelate and create a picture of her town and its many layers of social class and privilege. 

There is a rich and complex cast of characters, all seen through the eyes of this poor girl who has ambitions and respect for herself. There's the Marchesa Esther, an intelligent girl whose upbringing is unusual, and who doesn't put up with the misogyny of her husband and their society; there are the Provera sisters, a family who is rumoured to be so wealthy that they order all their clothing directly from Paris (but when she is called to work for them, our seamstress discovers the secrets of the household, and the wardrobe). There is an American lady who pays well to have her linens managed, and her tragic story is revealed in one whole section of the book. And there is the neighbour child Assuntina, who somehow becomes the responsibility of our narrator. 

Plus there is romance and pathos and tragedy and class strife -- so much drama & excitement, told in a flowing style. The story involves so many details of daily life, from food to social events to transportation to landscape to expectations of women of different classes -- it's illuminating and fascinating. 

And for sewists, this one is a must read. The author is clearly a sewist as well, the descriptions of actual sewing are fabulous. The main character is not just a sartina in order to provide inside eyes for the author, rather the sewing is a key part of the many stories she tells. From descriptions of fabrics, to her first sewing machine, it is all very realistic and engaging for anybody who can imagine it right alongside the characters. At one point, she's told that you can only sew baby layettes from old sheets that have been laundered over and over, as they are the only fabrics soft enough for infants. At another, she raves over the beautiful silks and prints she's never had a chance to work with before. And one key element near the end will be guessed ahead by sewists, but I'd say probably not by other readers! 

I really enjoyed this book -- for the strong sewing content of course, but also for the story. The characters were so engaging, the stories were dramatic and focused on the female experience. And the setting was completely absorbing. I couldn't stop reading. One of my favourite kinds of historical reads are ones that travel alongside a woman over her whole life, and this is a great example. So good! 

Weekend Review: Three Summers

Three Summers / Margarita Liberaki
trans. from the Greek by Karen Van Dyck
NY: NYRB, 2019, c1946.
264 p.

This Greek classic is a slow and dreamy read. It features three sisters, Maria, Infanta, and Katerina. The story is mostly told from the viewpoint of Katerina, the youngest, and it ranges across three summers (obviously). The book's structure follows that, split into three sections that really only highlight the summer months; the winter is dealt with in a few sentences. 

These three spend much of their time drowsing in meadows, talking about their futures, and falling in love. As the summers progress, they also grow apart a little as their focus changes to different things. The main question of the book is, however, what they are to do with themselves and their energy. They all seem a little different in personality; Maria is sexually adventurous and has a strong desire for physical intimacy and children, Infanta is reserved and has a tendency toward aceticism (unfortunately egged on by her bitter maiden aunt), while Katerina is boisterous and uncontained, full of big emotion and ambition. 

The reason I'm sharing this title today, though, besides the fact that it is a lovely read, lies in Infanta's incessant embroidering. As the quieter middle daughter, she has an artistic side that comes out in her embroidery, as per this observation by Katerina: 

Katerina's artistic nature is revealed much more in her penchant for telling stories, both as a young child and as the narrator of this story. But domestic arts and sewing tie into this realization for her as well: 

Over the course of this book the sisters observe neighbours and family, finding out secrets while also being mystified by other personalities. They watch how varied people's foibles and quirks shape their relationships. They have plenty of their own quirks as well, and each of the sisters chooses a path distinct from one another. Maria settles down in the first section, Infanta has a romantic entanglement in the second, and Katerina chooses her path in the third. The end is a little abrupt but we can see that Katerina has broken the hazy dream that has enveloped their lives (and this story) so far, and has changed her destiny with her stubborn willfulness. It's not the character flaw that her mother always told her it was; it's her path forward. 

It was an engrossing read, full of beautiful writing, imagery, landscape, characterizations and overlaid with a sense of nostalgia. I liked the structure, but I did feel confused at times at the passage of time in this story. Which summer was it again? And how old are these sisters exactly? Other than that, however, I found this an easy read, a perfect one for summer nights. 

Weekend Review: Fashion Manifesto

 

Fashion Manifesto / Sofia Hedstrom
trans. from the Swedish by Sarah Snavely
NY: Skyhorse, 2013, c2011
184 p.

August is Women in Translation Month, and to celebrate here I'll be reviewing fashion titles this month that were originally published in a non-English form. (for lots of fiction in translation, you can also check out my book blog, The Indextrious Reader, during August, too).

I'm starting with this book from my local library. I've looked through a few times over the years, but realized I've never shared it here. It's very much on trend right now, despite being published almost a decade ago. The author, a fashion journalist, decided to set herself a one year shopping ban challenge, after realizing her purchases were taking over her life and her closet, and that she had clothes stored not only in her own apartment, but her parents' home and even in an ex-boyfriend's parent's place. She was super strict about it, not buying anything new at all for a full year, not even shoes or undies. 

She started her challenge on August 1 so the story of her year of no buying is right on track for this week! The book is fascinating; she's a fashion writer so her style is very engaging and lively. The book is laid out very well, with an intro by Vivienne Westwood, well-known for her motto of "Buy Less, Choose Well". There is an intro of how Hedstrom decided on this project, and then a month by month timeline of her experience -- temptations, alterations, her feelings about the challenge and so on. It was interesting to see the initial 'withdrawal' period followed by more confidence about her existing wardrobe and finally the feeling that her shopping addiction was under control. Creativity came to forefront as she put together new combos of outfits, used things in different ways, learned some mending and dyeing techniques, and borrowed from and swapped with friends. 

Her own story is the main focus here, but she also interviewed other people about their sustainable (or 'style-savvy') shopping habits. The middle of the book is the actual Manifesto, laid out like a cool poster that you can copy and sign and post for your own purposes. And the second half of the book is projects with a variety of people she's interviewed, showing how they maintain and refashion their own wardrobes. It's fascinating, ranging from regular clothing to accessories like shoes and hair stuff, including jewellery. There's a nice mix of young and old, men and women, and some diversity though mostly people on the thinner side.

The projects are great as concepts even if the more edgy, punky ones aren't my style at all. But there are ideas for quilting and mending as well as fishnet jeans or leggings made from sock cuffs. It's interesting to see someone who is travelling around to the high pressure fashion weeks, where it is expected that you'll be dressed in the latest, who is able to redo her existing clothes and not stand out as an oddball. She mentions how not giving in to the temptations for all the latest things helped her sense of self as well as her wallet. Overall, this is probably familiar to you if you've paid attention to the "shop less" sustainable movement of the past decade, but this book is well done and fun to read. I enjoyed it and you might too!