Talking Tuesday: Dear Comrades!

 

 

Last night my husband and I finished watching a stunning Russian film called Dear Comrades! It is the previously classified story of the 1962 protests in the Don River region over rising food prices and the State's efforts to quash the protests and then cover up the violence that followed. 

The story is told primarily through the eyes of a true-believer Party member, and her journey is quite extraordinary.  I'm still trying to wrap my mind around all the layers of meaning in the film, particularly since the ending is a bit ambiguous and left me with a lot of questions about what happened in the following years.  Shot in black and white, the cinematography is note-perfect and deserves all the festival accolades it has received.  

A number of questions are asked by the film: what do you do when all you hold sacred is shown to be a Potemkin village?  What does it mean to remember the past and honor it without idolizing or demeaning it?  How do we live in the truth of the terrible things that happen to us without breaking?  What does it mean to own your mistakes?

It is a film well worth seeing.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming: Stripes! Sweater

I finished my Stripes! sweater at last!  It was the Penelope sweater right to the bitter end, as I swapped out two stripes in the body and one of the sleeves while I was knitting the second sleeve, but I'm glad I did.  I'm quite happy with the end result, and have worn it twice already!  

I made a size 2 with no modifications except to swap the 3/4 sleeves on the cropped version to long sleeves and to knit the sleeves flat and then seam, as I always do.  I did make a few more increases than called for because I don't like my cuffs to flap around and my wrists are small, but I probably would make one or two less increases next time (my cuffs had 40 stitches on them, for reference).  

 

 

 

I also cropped the body slightly more than on the sample because my torso is even shorter than Andrea's!  But the visual effect is the same.

 

This is a pattern I would definitely knit again, possibly in a solid color, because I enjoyed the process of it, and stripe combo difficulties aside, it would have gone quickly.  (If you consider that I've basically knit this entire sweater three times since the end of November, it's a fast knit). 

 

I immediately cast on a Weekender with some Capra yarn that I had, and am enjoying that so far.  And in true Juliana fashion, when Lilias Day came out in the white colorway, I immediately swatched it from some yarn I had set aside for a different project.  Yay for stash-busting!  And yarn for days!

All This Without You Bonus Content

 

Good morning all!  I have a new website for my writing and artwork.  I plan to keep writing in this space about the things I usually write about, but if you would like to keep abreast of book news and other tidbits, maybe put the new site in your RSS reader?  

I'm planning to share some bonus content from All This Without You over the next weeks, and perhaps do a giveaway.  One advantage to sharing some of this content on a website is that I can link to some of the things mentioned in the book to provide a more sensory experience.

For today, please enjoy a deleted scene from early in the book, including a musical link.  

If you want to know why I used images from the Cave of Swimmers to make the page headers, you'll have to read the book!

All This Without You--pre-order available!

I'm chuffed to say that my book is available for pre-order!  The paperback version should be live for pre-order by Monday, and the kindle version is available to pre-order now.  

All This Without You will release on February 16, 2021!

Fourteen

 

“He Is Not Dead

I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead—he is just away.”

― James Whitcomb Riley

Rays of Sunshine: Year-End 2020

My husband remarked sometime this fall that future historians of our era will have to microspecialize in 2020, as in, "I'm an expert on October 8, 2020."  It has been a year in which we lived a century.  Here are some (not-so) quick takes from an epic year.

1. We survived Covid in the early days of the pandemic.  My infection was brutal (but not hospital-inducing); the rest of my family less so.  

2. My kids learned to get along with each other during the six-month lockdown in this tiny house, and continue to develop their relationships with each other in unexpected ways.  Yes, they still fight, still annoy each other, still know how to push each other's buttons, but on the whole, the four of them can rub along okay, which is something I never thought I'd be able to say.  We did many puzzles and played lots of Scrabble and other word games this year.

3. The kitchen garden was a source of delight to me all summer and fall, and I'm looking forward to digging in the dirt in the late spring.

4. While I wrote less this year, my final Slezkine essay remains my favorite, although my latest Crawford tribute comes close.

 

5. I'm pleased to announce that my novel, All This Without You, will be published in mid-February.  I'm working through the final formatting and galley proofs now.  Pre-order will be available in a few days.  My first novel, Deliverance, finally got the cover I wanted from the start.

6. The kids discovered shchi, kuleyabaka, and pirog this year, and my fasting menus got a bit easier as a result (if more labor-intensive).  

 

At the same time, I crossed some kind of culinary Rubicon this year, and have enjoyed making some nice-looking meat, fish, and cabbage pies (with pre-made crust; I'm not that invested).  

 

The food shortages of the spring put my long-neglected bread maker to work. 

After 8 months of heavy use, it went to the Great Appliance Store in the Sky.  RIP, you served us well.

 

7. I fell down a few crafting rabbit holes this summer and fall, including jewelry-making, which I completely enjoy, and dyeing, which I do not. 

 

 

I also returned to making art this spring and summer, and am holding these new creative endeavors under the broad umbrella of This Living Hand Designs. 

 8. After stalking various listings for used pairs, I finally found a pair of Blundstones on ebay for a great bargain, and they are pretty much the best things ever. My transitional shoe crisis solved! So stompy.  

9. With hair salons closed for months, I learned how to cut both boys' hair, and have continued the practice since.  My husband had me trim his hair once in May in desperation, but has since returned to his barber, much to my relief.  I trimmed the girls' and my own hair once, since we don't need regular cuts.  It's not perfect, but it will do!

 

10. My sewing stalled out this year, but I made a few things I really loved, including my cropped linen Emerald tops, and a laundry cycle's worth of underwear.  

11. I dipped my toes into more challenging knitting, including lacework and colorwork, and find I have a an appetite for charted work. 

I also discovered some new-to-me designers and have enjoyed some new patterns.

12.  I discovered some truly enjoyable book series this year, including the All Souls Triology, The Court of Thorns and Roses series, and the Throne of Glass series.  The Throne of Glass series was an unexpected delight, and I binged all seven (rather large) books in about a month's time this fall.  I dipped back into the Court of Thorns and Roses series again this week in anticipation of the next book's release in February.  I guess I'm into supernatural fantasy now?

Wherever this year has taken you, and whatever difficulties you've experienced, I wish you peace and joy in the year ahead.

 

Happy New Year!

See ya on the flip side.

A Hidden Life

I can't let December get away from me without writing about Terrance Malick's masterpiece, A Hidden Life.  A beautifully shot and edited film about Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer who refused to swear loyalty to Hitler out of religious conviction and lost his life for it.  

 

I cannot convey enough how gorgeous this film is; shot in the Alps where the Jägerstätters lived in a small, close-knit rural community.  The farm work is hard and unrelenting, but it is a good life, and they are a happy family.  Malick's unhurried pace provides plenty of time to sink into it.  (In that respect, it reminded me of another WW2 film I love: Želary).  

The cinematography is stunning.  The Tyrolean landscape is wonderful, but Jörg Widmer's framing and long shots of the landscape as well as the tight shots of the characters going about their days paint a detailed and granular picture.  I keep thinking about a long shot down a dark hallway in the prison where Franz is taken, with light spearing down from a stairwell above, just a small point of light in the darkness.  The analogy is obvious, but it is so beautiful and silent.  

We finished the film yesterday and I spent today listening to the gorgeous soundtrack; it is a wistful kind of melancholy that carries the seeds of hope that has stayed with me. As the violin solo resounded in my ears, I realized how little dialogue there is in the film.  

Malick uses voice-overs taken from Franz and Fani's letters to provide context and move the film along, but overall there is little that is said except for a few spare conversations as Franz and Fani discern what is morally right.  Instead, it is the families working together in the fields, moving through the seasons of the year in rhythm with the land and the liturgical cycle; those small quiet ways that most of us live our lives, not in heavy dialogue.  

It could also have been a film that showed a lot of violence, but Malick chose to keep the focus on the quietness of their lives, on the prayerful stillness that Franz and Fani cultivated to survive the isolation of prison and the pressures of everyone around them to take the oath.  An excellent film, worthy of all its accolades and awards.  It is a long film (clocking just under three hours), so we watched it in 1-hour blocks over three nights.  I think breaking up the viewing allowed me to meditate on each hour more deeply, and to take this beautiful film into my soul.