The Friday Night Knitting Club - a review

In one word? Disappointing. So many people had told me that, as a knitter, I had to read this book. I really wanted it to be good but it just seemed to fall flat. The sections that were truly devoted to knitting were enjoyable to read but that only comprised about 2% of the book. Two percent of enjoyment is not worth 98% of frustration.

There were two main problems, in my opinion. Problem Number One was the use of profanity. I was truly taken aback when I encountered the first instance -- up to that point it had been a comfortable, pleasant read. The sudden appearance of this word was jarring to the point of taking me out of the story (rarely a good thing for a book to do). Those of you who know me may consider me a prude and wonder if I'm making too big a deal out of a word. Let me just say that, if it can't be said on network TV, it should not be said in a book purporting to extol the joys of knitting. Not only was the profanity unnecessary, but it felt oddly forced as if the author, once finished, went back over the text and randomly inserted colorful (yet incongruous) metaphors. Perhaps she was hoping for a more adult audience.
Note: there are those who may argue that knitting and profanity DO go together. I must admit that I could appreciate that point of view while I was attempting to start my toe-up sock with a provisional cast-on. But I demurred and now I digress...

Problem Number Two involved characterization. A character-driven plot demands a certain level of richness created by fully-formed characterizations and character growth. Neither ingredient was present. Georgia Walker, the main character, shows minimal growth over the course of the novel. Spoiler alert - do not read if you do not wish to see plot revelations): She spends the first half of the book regretting a prior relationship that ended abruptly, yet she needs very little encouragement to repeat the same behavior by leaping back into another commitment-less relationship (with the same partner, no less). It would be one thing if the point was to highlight a lack of growth on her part; instead, the reader is supposed to believe, along with Georgia, that this time everything would be different. At least Georgia had some good/bad qualities for her character. The minor characters seemed pulled out of a copyrighted list of stock characters. We have very little insight into their lives or choices. We are supposed to rejoice with them as they take control of their lives, but we never see the strength necessary to choose the control.

The Friday Night Knitting Club could have been a lot of fun; unfortunately, we are not allowed to get close enough to enjoy the knitting camaraderie.

Fourth Sock Syndrome

Sock #1:
Any knitter who has ever knitted a pair of socks understands the scourge of Second Sock Syndrome -- that dearth of enthusiasm that ensues after the thrill and satisfaction of a completed (single) sock. The first sock is a challenge; the second sock is mere repetition, a "been-there, done-that" feeling of drudgery. Compounding the chore of producing the second sock is the knowledge that the first sock is meaningless without its mate. After all, there is not much of a market for individual socks, no matter how cleverly and lovingly made. With this in mind, I was determined that I would not fall under the SSS shadow (would that be the SSSS?) and cast on for Sock #2 the same day I cast off Sock #1. Here is where my problem started -- Sock #1 did not fit well and I was not happy with the pattern I had used. There were errors in the pattern and my efforts to remedy the errors were less than satisfactory. Thus, Sock #2 would be done in Pattern #2.

Sock #2:
Pattern #2 was successful -- the sock was done and the fit was good. Unfortunately, Sock #2 bore only a fleeting resemblance to its predecessor, Sock #1. The whole idea of a pair of socks is that they create a pair and two such dissimilar socks as these simply did not meet that standard. Thus, Sock #1 was, in knitters' lingo, frogged (completely unraveled) and it was on to:

Sock #3:

Yes, Sock #3. Sock #3 was started a little less enthusiastically than Sock #2. After all, I was geared up to overcome the difficulties of Second Sock Syndrome (SSS), not Third Sock Syndrome (TSS). Still, progress was being made and it was coming along rather quickly. Sock #1 was not completely wasted as I was re-using the yarn and my sock-making technique was definitely improving. I have arrived at a pivotal point in the pattern -- it is time to "turn the heel." Since the pair should match (see Sock #2 above), I turned to Sock #2 to compare the length of the foot and ... no Sock #2. Sock #2 has vanished from the face of the earth. Disappearing socks have been the bane of sock-washers for years but normally, the sock has to go through a load of laundry before it can pull off its stunt and disappear. My sock must be exceptional or, at least, precocious to hide itself so quickly and so completely. It has been gone for over two weeks now and I am having a hard time forcing myself to finish S#3 since and inevitable S#4 is in the offing.

Box Score:
Sock #1 - frogged
Sock #2 - disappeared
Sock #3 - on the needles
Sock #4 - yet to come

I blame the cats.