Book Review: “Knitting Beyond the Edge,” by Nicky Epstein.

Out of everything, you can’t say I’m not pretentious. Book review? From some girl on the intarweb who not only doesn’t have a fanclub, but knows –this is a careful differentiation that must be made- she doesn’t?

But I’ve internally justified this pretension (justification: just checked the book out from the library! Nothing else to do on a Friday night!), so it doesn’t much matter to me what people think about it.

I find Epstein’s knitting interesting. Her “Knitting on the Edge” books were useful, categorized in a way that’s pretty handy for people who don’t quite know what they’re looking for, and the bright illustrations are a nice change from the dirty white yarn that cropped up in most of the stitch collections I’ve looked through (yeah, yeah, I know why old collections are like that, but it reminds me of mildew nonetheless, and mildew and yarn shouldn't mix).

Keep in mind, “interesting” is a double-edged sword of opinion. I loved the sections on closures and necklines in “Knitting Beyond the Edge”: I’ve done little of either, and she provided a great scope on the two, which get, in my (humble!) opinion, too little attention among the gazillion and one books on cables/lace/knit-and-purl stitches. Bring on those I-cord imitation knot closures and boat-neck collars. Even if I didn’t like the particular treatment, the variety and the appendix on neck openings was an eye-opener, and gave me no few awesome ideas which will lie dormant in my sketchbook for years, if not decades, due to the glut of ideas I have inflicted on a dearth of yarn.

But if you draw out the word “interesting” in the right way, with a little grimace on your face, it’s no longer a compliment. And looking through the “cuffs & collars,” iinnnterestinng because my pronunciation of choice. What’s with all the faux pearls, the I-cord pretzels, the repetitive dangly flaps, the ruffles meant to drape so far over the hands you can barely hold your damn sticks and yarn, and –especially- the high, elaborate collars apparently designed for a jester in some merciless and backwards medieval court?

If this were a book of patterns, I’d contextualize these as haute couture, like dresses made from strips of coke cans or with ruffs that spill over the arms to the elbow. But… this is a collection of stitch patterns meant to be used as references . . . for knitters. The book doesn’t package itself towards a demographic of people who will wear clothing with I-cord pretzels all over. Possibly it’s marketing for a group of people who will knit these designs up and then realize they couldn’t possibly wear them. But still. I. Just. Don’t. Get. It.

I was faintly surprised to find patterns at the end of this. And a little pleased: I’m a fan of both the Belle Epoque jacket and the Cardigan with Cabled Points. If I ever knit up the jacket, I’d swap out the colorwork panels with something a little more in sync with my style, and shorten the sleeve panels, but I love the cut of the collar, the faux layering, and the stitch pattern worked over the body.

Despite my critiques, I enjoyed the book. My beefs are with the predilection towards esoteric fashion, not the layout, the information, or the inspirations.