Sew Me a River.

Bright Star-Abbie Cornish, Ben Whishaw
Director-Jane Campion




SEE.



I don't understand poetry. I try. You wouldn't think it would be that hard. It's just words. I understand words. Usually. Apparently, I would have been hard pressed in the love game back in the day of John Keats. People were clever and well-read. People could recite literature and poetry by heart. Men wooed women with their wit. (Apparently, they didn't have Tivo.) But hey, I understand a well made garment, and I'm not so foolish as to believe just that anybody can sew a thing of beauty "to be a joy forever." Poetry? Pshaw. A perfectly fitted dress? Now that's impressive. Luckily for me, we don't spend too much time analyzing the works of Keats here (I would have been lost) and poring over the many tragedies that marred his life and shaped his work (I cried enough honestly.) Instead, Jane Campion pays homage to the beauty of sewing (an intrinsically artistic talent) and sets it on a par with the words of one of the most revered of the Romantic Poets. You go, girl!




Sure, I was moved by the relationship between Keats (Ben Whishaw) and Fanny Brawne (Abbie Cornish), seamstress extraordinaire. Sure, I was saddened by the tragic and brief intersection of their lives. But mostly, I wanted to know why people back then seemed to think sewing is so damn easy?! Have they not seen Project Runway? Not everybody can sew a seam, my friends. Look, even I can make something rhyme. Just takes some time. But, no, I don't think Keats could have created that fancy party dress that Brawne wears. (Okay, I know. About a hundred seamstresses in a wardrobe department made that, but it's the principle!) Thanks to Campion's writing and direction, the audience can see that it is society which belittles Brawne's gifts as inconsequential in comparison with the writings of men. Brawne is a creative designer not just a darner of socks. Brawne takes her work as seriously as the poets in whose company she lives and demands perfection of even those simple things viewed as "women's work." Thank you, Jane Campion, for showing us that the clothier can produce a thing of equal beauty as the poet.




EAT.



Apparently, during Keats' illness he was alternately starved and bled or fed beef and wine. Choose the beef and wine. Unless you are a vegetarian. In which case, good luck with being bled.


SHOP.



Despite the popularity of Project Runway, some people still don't believe that sewing requires skill and artistry. Hurry up and find out for yourself. Apparently, September is National Sewing Month (Who decides these things?) "sew" express yourself (Sorry. Couldn't help it.) Read a little about the art of sewing versus the art of poetry http://www.openwriting.com/archives/2009/02/the_gentle_art.php then try it on for size. You might find it easier to produce a poem than sew a straight seam, but don't be discouraged. Stitch on up to http://www.sewing.org/.