A Bluestocking Knits

Books to Movies and Back to Books

I got on a bit of a mysteries kick after watching Kenneth Branagh's new version of "Death on the Nile".  I confess that I did not like it much -- it not only didn't compare well to the 1978 version with Peter Ustinov as Poirot, but even if I hadn't been familiar with the earlier one, I would have been dismayed at many of Branagh's changes.  The moustache backstory was illogical and unnecessary, the attempts at "modernizing" the characters historically jarring -- and also unnecessary -- and the background details historically absurd (the maid in evening dress at a celebratory dance party? no! female crew members on the boat? no! and in shorts? no!! -- and why on earth would they wrap the bodies of the murder victims like mummies?! good heavens). 

Undoubtedly, my dismay at the movie is what compelled me to dash to the public library and raid the Christie section.  While I was there, since I knew that the three I chose are fairly quick reads, I looked at the Georgette Heyer shelf as well, and borrowed two of those as well.  I had read all of the Christies many years ago -- I went through her entire oeuvre, possibly after seeing the charming "Tommy and Tuppence" series with Francesca Annis and James Warwick, if not earlier! -- but these Heyers were new to me, at least.

First, of course, was Death on the Nile.  The 1978 movie is perhaps my second-favorite of the Christies -- for the lovely and authentic (cough) scenery, for the wonderful clothing, the superb cast.  Although David Suchet will forever in my mind, as in many others', be Hercule Poirot, Peter Ustinov makes a charming and appealing Poirot.  It was interesting to read the book knowing very well how the murder was accomplished, and see all of the clues that Christie planted along the way, both in people's characters and their actions.

After that, I read Heyer's 1939 No Wind of Blame, which I enjoyed very much.  The dialogue sparkles, the characterizations are deft, and the Scotland Yard inspector -- who, rather surprisingly, doesn't make an entrance until halfway through the book -- is appealingly snappy at times, with a teasing sense of humor that to me is quite unusual in a literary detective.  I fell for a red herring, too, trying to work out how one of the charming characters could have done it, when it turned out to be one of the less-charming ones (and I hope that isn't much of a spoiler!).

"Murder on the Orient Express" is my favorite of all of the Christie movies, a stand-out in every respect.  Obviously, I was well aware of the plot as I read the book, but it also struck me how well the screenwriter, as that of "Death on the Nile" (John Dehn and Anthony Shaffer, respectively) concentrated the plot and the number of characters without sacrificing any plot points, and indeed, in many respects actually improving the tightness of the story.  It's also telling, cinematically, that while Kenneth Branagh felt that his 2017 version (even less successful in my eyes than his "Death on the Nile," but perhaps this is inversely proportional to the perfection of the 1974 version ...) needed exterior chase scenes (!), the earlier one makes even the splendidly luxurious Orient Express feel claustrophobic, both in the flashback to the murder scene and in Poirot's summation of the events.

Envious Casca I found somewhat less appealing than the other Heyer, most likely because the Herriard family is constantly sniping at each other, or outright arguing, but of course it is equally well-written and tightly-plotted as is the first one, with an admirably clever clue (if somewhat less obvious to those of us reading a century or so later) to the locked-room problem given quite early on.

The 1982 film of "Evil Under the Sun" is one of those that I enjoy watching but don't seek out, for some reason -- it just doesn't speak to me as much as the other two.  The book had somewhat the same effect on me -- it's clever, but ... not really a favorite of mine.  I can see why readers find Christie rather slight compared to, say, Dorothy L. Sayers, but then, one doesn't read Sayers if one is in the mood for Christie, either!

I don't quite see, by the way, why so many reviewers find Branagh-Poirot's moustache so absurd -- it's supposed to be absurd, except of course to Poirot himself, who is quite proud of it.  Christie describes it in Orient Express as "enormous moustaches" (note the plural!), and in other novels as "gigantic," "immense," and "amazing" (there is even a page devoted to it at AgathaChristie.com!) -- and Branagh-Poirot's is far more amazing than Ustinov-Poirot's surprisingly average moustache or Suchet-Poirot's foppishly dainty one.  If you look at a selection of Victorian moustaches, most likely Poirot's generation, what is remarkable about Branagh-Poirot's is not so much its enormity as the mouche under his lower lip, which in my admittedly-small survey is never seen.  Mutton-chops, yes, goatees, yes, the rather "newer" Van Dyke as on George V, etc. etc. etc., but not the little patch.  Branagh-Poirot's moustache might actually be one of the few historically-accurate things about his movie!

Sampler September, and a Free Cross-Stitch Sampler Chart

It is Sampler September 2023, which seems to be not a stitch-along or even anything really official, but just is, as a time to celebrate cross- and counted-stitch samplers. In honor of this, and in thanks to those before me who have posted free charts of samplers, here is one that I have charted from a book that I came across somewhat randomly, Samplers and Stitches by Grace Christie.  It is essentially an early stitch dictionary, with descriptions and instructions and diagrams, and includes as plates (mostly black-and-white, it was 1921 after all) a number of little samplers that Mrs. Christie worked to demonstrate the stitches, and a few larger pictorial pieces, including one called "A Persian Flower Garden," a riot of colorful, though now faded, flowers and birds and insects, many of which she adapted into this smaller piece, with a springtime quotation from "Love's Labour's Lost" --

Download Mrs. Christie's "When Daisies Pied"

The sampler was surprisingly challenging to chart in some places, as although the illustration looks pretty straightforward, the "columns" and "rows" don't always line up from one motif to another -- and of course I had to adapt the colors of a hundred-year-old embroidery which I've not seen in person into modern threads.  I tried to strike a pleasing balance between the lovely faded colors of the front of the "Persian Garden" and the brighter, more original ones on the back.  Choices were made, obviously, and another stitcher should feel free to change them as desired. 

I have not stitched this yet! though it is certainly on my list.  If anyone does, I would be delighted to see it worked!

That's Better!

Now the boulders look like "three-dimensional" boulders, after switching out the errant DMC flosses for ones that more resemble the picture on the cover of the chart.  I meant to take a photo of this at the time, but clearly I was enjoying stitching too much to think of it.  Curiously, the water didn't look like much of anything until the landscaping around it began to be filled in, and then suddenly it was obviously a waterfall!  I'm still not quite sure what that brown construction at the lower right is -- I thought it might be a mill wheel ... a bridge tunnel?  At the moment, I am leaning once again towards mill wheel ...

I bought these delicious-looking pastries for my 1:12 tea room some time ago.  Flush with the success, I decided to re-paint the outside of the third shop, which I had done in a rather vivid blue --

that turned out to be just too much.  I had been going for a lovely dark blue, but though the paint chip looked tempting enough to buy a sample pot, it just didn't work on the shop itself.  One night when it was far too late to run out and buy something else, I looked through my craft paints and pulled out a Martha Stewart one in "Magellan Blue" --

and I quite like it now!  I'm afraid that the white trim next to a dark blue does show up the crookedness of the factory assembly, but there it is, can't be helped.  I might try and touch up some of the wobbly paint work, though (!).

I bought this at the same time as the two chairs for the tea shop, a midcentury-modern room divider from Arjen Spinhoven.  It is a superb kit, cleverly reducing a real piece of 1950s furniture into 1:12 scale.  My finishing techniques don't live up to the beauty of this kit, I'm afraid, but luckily for me, it doesn't look too bad from a distance.

I worried a lot about the faux teak wood-grain that this piece absolutely required -- I could paint the chairs black, but not this! -- and I did a lot of research and testing on scraps before I did the real thing.  I'm mostly happy with my results -- could be better, but for a first attempt, not bad.

I'm embarrassed to admit that although I remembered and heeded the instructions to glue the two layers of a particular piece in a certain direction -- so that the notches on the underside of the upper cabinet are aligned with the holes on the top of the lower cabinet, to fit that central shelf support -- and that I laid them out carefully before applying the glue, I somehow managed to turn one half around as I was spreading the glue and forgot to turn it back.  This necessitated carving out some rather laughably clumsy notches on the piece that would become the underside of the upper cabinet -- in a piece that actually has some rather good faux wood grain on it, too! aaugh -- so builder beware, and learn from my mistake!

(What an eye for detail Spinhoven has! Look at the double-H piece -- the upper side of the cross-pieces, which will support the two small shelves, are cut with straight corners, but the undersides, which will be visible, have a slight curve in the corners.)

This double-H was the most worrisome piece, as it is frighteningly thin and bendy, and you can see that I did not get it to stand as straight as it is meant to.  Even though there was a spare included with the kit (thoughtfully!), I had already cracked said spare earlier while dry-fitting my re-cut holes, and so I didn't dare to take this one out and re-set it.

This is my favorite part of the piece, the bow-like cross-pieces on the legs! --

And yes, those "glass" doors do slide open and closed!

Chairs for the Tea Shop

I had long intended to scratch-build the chairs for my 1:12 tea shop, and was hoping to re-size this 1:24 tutorial from Little Architecture (which is actually the Sibbo/Pinnockio chair by Yngve Ekström), but after a great deal of math, some trial and error, and months of dawdling, I saw the mid-century modern dining chair on Arjen Spinhoven's website, and realized yet again that anything I can do, Arjen Spinhoven can do much, much better.

The kit does go together fairly easily, and the resulting chair is not only beautiful in itself, but sturdier -- less vulnerable, I mean -- than Jane Harrop's mid-century chairs, charming as those are.

The real-life design is the Fresco chair by Ib Kofod-Larsen -- it's uncanny, how well Spinhoven has re-created it in 1:12 scale. The back rest on the original chair is upholstered, which Spinhoven has decided not to simulate, but that is a minor detail -- the 1:12 chair looks very good with a wooden back -- but if one has a steady hand, I'm sure this could be done with paint, as with the seat.

As handsome as these would be in a teak-colored finish, I had in my mind's eye a set of black chairs, as a subtle difference from the various other wood tones in the shop.  I painted mine with a base coat of black, then after a light sanding, a second coat of 1:1 the same black paint and satin varnish, for just a little sheen.  I will probably age these a bit, but I'm enjoying them as they are for now!

Jilted, and Thwarted

Not that I haven't been enjoying and appreciating the "Wisdom Sampler," but I got this far and found myself unable to stop wishing that I'd started "Laurence Briquet" instead.  I've set things temporarily aside before -- I mean, started another project simultaneously in another frame or hoop (or set of needles ...) -- but I don't think I've ever actually taken one off the frame for another, partly because it's just a bother with having to baste a piece of linen to the stretcher bars.  But there it is -- I took "Wisdom" off and put in "Laurence" instead.

And things were going pretty well, even though I realized that the threads for the water were considerably lighter than in the image, and though I usually like that faded look, I decided to pick it out and switch the three for three of my favorite Antique Blues.  I was far enough along with the water that I moved over to one of the "boulders," but after a bit of stitching thought, "wait a minute -- this second brown is supposed to be shading ...." and it is indeed lighter than the main brown, instead of darker.  After rather laboriously checking the Soie d'Alger colors with the DMC (by way of various online needlework shops and color charts), I suspect now that nobody at Reflets de Soie actually stitched this in the DMC conversion that is supplied with the chart, but only did the Soie d'Alger original version, as a number of other colors are noticeably different.  (As much as I would enjoy, I'm sure, stitching this in luxurious silks instead of everyday cotton floss, there are thirty-nine colors in this chart!  Thirty-nine!  That's a lot of silk.)  So it looks like I'll be paying for my fickleness by having to figure out which DMC thread will best match the image on the chart.  Sigh.

Page One

Just two pages left!

A Mini BBBB

Messing around with some 1:12 knitting.  This pattern may be obvious to folks who were knitting a few years back -- it's a miniature version of Lisa Shobhana Mason's "Big Bad Baby Blanket" from the first Stitch 'n Bitch book (2004).  It's in Caron's Impressions wool/silk thread, in the "Abalone" color, wh. is very pretty.  My border probably could have been a stitch smaller all around to better match the original, but it didn't come out too badly for a first attempt, and the thread blocks very well, so I'm happy.  This was worked on 3/0 needles (1.5mm), I think -- the only needle gauge I have that is small enough is from Hong Kong, so it says 17, which I am assuming is correct!

In other news, I found a frame shop on Etsy that had something quite perfect for my "Zoé Elie" -- this framer makes new frames out of old-stock molding, and so they have that antique look while being a custom size should one need it.

"This Needlework of Mine"

Progress as of today.  The colors seem very vivid to me, after a string of "faded" samplers!  The little blue splodge behind Young Mr. Wisdom's head is the beginnings of a bird, but I think I might change the colors to browns, as with the two blue birds right there at the sides that is a lot of blue birds in a row, it seems to me.

Just finished re-reading Coot Club,

the fifth book in the "Swallows and Amazons" series.  Wonderful comfort reading!  The picture is I guess a publicity photo from the 1984 film, which actually isn't bad -- that sounds a bit snarky, but one never knows with films of favorite books.  The children aren't quite what I'd pictured in my mind, especially Dorothea and Tom, and I don't think that either of the films I've seen (this and the 2016 "Swallows and Amazons") really capture the intelligence and sensibility of the children*, but I'm impressed that they found actual twins for Port and Starboard!  And at least this one didn't feel the need to invent silly subplots involving Russian spies (for heaven's sake).

*Poor Susan!  I can never think without shuddering of how the 2016 version of "Swallows and Amazons" both let Susan get whacked on the head by the boom when John takes "Swallow" about and turned her into a squealing sissy when faced with the prospect of gutting a fish. 

I've just started reading C.K. Chau's modern re-telling of Pride and Prejudice,

now titled Good Fortune and set in New York's Chinatown.  There was a very good review of it in the Los Angeles Times not long ago, and then only a week or so later there was an article by Chau on LitHub about setting and society in Austen's novel.  It was heartening to read Chau's thoughts, which make it obvious that she thoroughly respects the original novel, so that I felt it much more likely that she wouldn't change characters' motivations or personalities so much that they conflict with Austen's plot (cough -- 2022 "Persuasion"! -- cough).

Knitting!!

Yes, it deserves two exclamation marks.  It's been a while!

These are the 1909 Ladies' Mitts I spoke of a few weeks ago, in the same yarn as the model -- Cascade Heritage Silk -- but in a different color, this one being 5730 Heather Rose.  I started the mitts once before, but even with the same yarn as the model, they were far too big, so I've frogged and started again with two less repeats.  We'll see how it goes now that I've got to the hand -- but I should look sharp, before it gets too hot ...

(Rather unbelievably, I took this photo with my camera using the manual focus.  I can rarely trust my very-poor eyesight well enough to tell if a subject is in focus, but I don't have my contacts in this morning, so was double-checking the display with it about an inch away from my eyes, and didn't do too badly!  The photo below is one of the few I managed to rescue from my phone, and the close-ups further down are from the camera.  But, yes, the auto-focus is shot.)

I finished the "Zoé Elie" -- the free chart from Reflets de Soie -- and had a go at aging it, to look more like the original d'un certain âge.  This is with coffee, Folger's Singles to be exact, which come in bags, and I used both the strongly-brewed coffee and the bags, the latter plopped down at the edge to get a liquid-stain look.  It didn't come out quite the way I was hoping, but it was all a bit of an experiment anyway, and I do like the way it looks -- plus it's a charming little piece in itself.

Någonstans i Sverige = Somewhere in Sweden

I found a puzzle yesterday at the swap meet.  I picked up this charming family group photograph, and turned it over to find this:

which is in Swedish.  An antique family photograph with all of the names written on it!  That's unusual enough in itself, but of course I also do Swedish genealogy, and so my interest was piqued for that.  And one way that I "pay it forward" for all of the help I've received over the years is to attach identified family photos to their records in FamilySearch.  And so I bought the photo.

The writing says: "Från vänster [from the left]: [back] Gustaf Olsson o. Sven, Erland Gustafsson o. Inga-Maj; [middle] Axel Ericksson, Elsa o. Anna, mormor o. morfar, Tyra o. Svante; [front] Viola, Gärda, Elsa, Åke, Gösta".  "O." is just short for och, "and".  I can tell that it's Swedish from vänster (spelled venstre in Danish and Norwegian), and also because of some of the names: "Gärda" is a Swedish spelling for "Gerda", "Gösta" and "Åke" and especially "Svante" are much more common in Sweden that in the other Nordic countires.  So, definitely Swedish, and from the house in the background, almost definitely in Sweden.

But I've spent a couple of hours now, on two different days, searching through the various databases for an Erland Gustafsson with a daughter named Inga-Maj, or a Gustaf Olsson with a son Sven (needle in a haystack), or an Axel Olsson with a wife Elsa and/or a daughter Anna, and I haven't found any yet who look at all likely, let alone with family members that line up with the other names.  (I can hardly complain, after someone took the trouble to write the names on the back, that they didn't give the grandparents' names, but gee, that would have helped enormously!)

From Tyra's dress, this looks like early 1930s or maybe late 1920s.  The mid-1920s, depending on the various Swedish parishes and the dates of their respective registers, is generally the cutoff date of when the registers are restricted for privacy, and so I suspect I'm being hampered a bit by that.  I think I can presume that the babies being held by their mothers belong with them, so Elsa and baby Anna go together, and Tyra and baby Svante.  But there is one too many "dads" in the photo -- probably Axel Ericksson goes with Elsa (and therefore Anna as well), and probably Erland Gustafsson (and baby Inga-Mai?) with Tyra (and therefore Svante as well?).  But what about Gustaf Olsson and baby Sven?  And whose mormor and morfar are the older couple?  I think I can see family resemblances in the faces, especially some of the mothers and daughters -- and by their matching sailor suits, the two little boys are brothers -- but I don't want to read too much into that, as they are probably all closely related, siblings and cousins, most likely first cousins.  Since the photo has ended up in a Southern California swap meet, it's probably safe to assume that a few, if not a number of them ended up in America -- or did the family who stayed in Sweden send the photo to yet-another sibling in America? or were some of the little ones in the photo actually born in America and the photo records a visit back to Sweden to see the grandparents?!