Art of Darkness: Gothic, Aesthetics, and Knitting
Everyone has a different image in mind when they hear the word Gothic. Some picture the soaring edifices of many of Europe’s most famous cathedrals, while others imagine those cathedrals in ruins and inhabited by windswept maidens dressed in white. Still others may envision the barbarian tribes that plagued the Roman Empire, or the goth fashion movement popularized in the latter half of the twentieth century. Where, then, does true Gothic lie?
The answer is a complicated labyrinth of history, terminology, politics, and culture. The term “Gothic” derives from the Latin term for a barbarian tribe in Northern Germany. It is perhaps no surprise that, given its association with barbarians, when Gothic was used to describe the towering architectural style that emerged in the mid-twelfth century, it was meant as an insult. Most people are now familiar with the trappings of Gothic architecture: Flying buttresses, pointed arches, and ribbed vaults were developed to give more height to structures and increase natural light. Gothic architecture flourished from the late Middle Ages through the Renaissance, and the term that originally was meant to insult became just the name of that particular style. Several of the designs in Interweave Knits Winter 2021 were inspired by the towering, dramatic style of Gothic architecture. Fiona Munro’s St. Machar Wrap, for example, was inspired by St. Machar’s Cathedral, located in her hometown of Aberdeen, Scotland. The church, which was completed in 1530, today sports stunning stained glass and pointed Gothic arches. You can read more about Fiona’s exploration of St. Machar’s in this issue’s Ravelings article.
But Gothic aesthetics did not stay in the world of architecture. By the eighteenth century, the term had become attached to another art form entirely: the novel.
The first story to bear the descriptor Gothic was Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto (1764). The novel tells the tale of a castle wrongfully obtained by its current tenant, Manfred, and the misfortunes that befall his family as a result. The first edition purported that the book was a translated manuscript from sixteenth-century Italy, which was a popular literary device at the time to drum up interest and sales. In the second edition, however, the real authorship was revealed, and the title page bore the subtitle A Gothic Story.
At the time, Gothic merely meant that the story took place in antiquity, around the same time that Gothic cathedrals were being built. Walpole himself was no stranger to Gothic architecture:
In 1747, he purchased his house, Strawberry Hill, which he transformed into a neo-Gothic paradise. However, the word became associated with many of the set pieces of Walpole’s story, not the least of which was the aesthetic: a crumbling manor house in spooky environs. Several designers in this issue pursued that aesthetic with their own haunting designs. Jennifer Miller Comstock’s Thrushcross Shawl was inspired by the stark beauty of the moors as they appear in another Gothic tale, Wuthering Heights.
But, you might be thinking, hold on. Why are you telling me all of this? Sure, Gothic is certainly an aesthetic style. But this is a knitting magazine. Where’s the gosh-darn knitting? Don’t you worry, my friend. Gothic literature and knitting have tangled together, too.
When women began writing in the Gothic genre, knitting found its way into those texts. In Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre (1847), the titular character receives help and advice from Mr. Rochester’s housekeeper, Mrs. Fairfax, who is almost never seen without her knitting. When Jane later runs away from Thornfield Hall, she again encounters knitting in the home of her helpful cousins. By contrast, her nasty cousin Eliza Reed is “stitching, with gold thread, the border of a square crimson cloth” when Jane comes back to the Reeds’ house after many years of absence. The perceived difference during the Victorian period between knitting and other forms of fiber craft was that of usefulness. Knitting was a necessity for the lower-classes, when embroidery and other “fancy-work” were reserved for upper-class ladies. The distinction for authors was clear: If you want your reader to recognize a character’s moral strength, set her up with some knitting needles.
Perhaps the most notable exhibit of knitting and Gothic, however, comes from Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (1899). The main character, before departing down the Congo river, sees two women knitting black wool. As he looks at the older of the two, “An eerie feeling came over me. She seemed uncanny and fateful. Often far away there I thought of these two, guarding the door of Darkness, knitting black wool as for a warm pall, one introducing, introducing continuously into the unknown, the other scrutinizing the cheery and foolish faces with unconcerned old eyes.”
Gothic art has gone through many, many transformations through the centuries, but throughout it all, there has been a balance of light and darkness. From the soaring cathedrals meant to bring in more natural light to the Gothic novel, where the main character—often a woman—is threatened but always emerges victorious, Gothic traditions present us with an important balance between the familiar and the uncanny, the light and the dark. Many of the pieces in this
issue explore that balance: Lucy Westenra’s Wrap by designer Susanna IC is a stunningly lacy wrap interspersed with glinting beads, giving weight to an otherwise airy design.
As you peruse these pages, let us take you into the realm of the uncanny. Let your craft become mysterious once more and explore the uncharted—or, in the case of Kristen Jancuk’s Vaulted Swoncho, meticulously charted—waters of these Gothic knits.
JULIA PILLARD is the assistant editor for the Interweave Yarn Group. She received her master’s degree in English literature in 2018. Since then, she has published a number of short stories and poems—some Gothic, some less so. Julia lives in Colorado with her husband, her very sweet dog, and a large collection of both books and yarn.
This article originally appeared in Interweave Knits Winter 2021.
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