I feel a little sheepish commenting on the fire-related omens and imagery right now. I don't want to oversimplify the suffering we're seeing in 2020. Marigold is imagining a very obvious symptom of greed and estrangement, a hellish one, the kind we're unable to ignore. She can't help but turn inward to the relationships that give her life meaning, and the tiny things she can shape with her own hands.
7 thoughts on “#975 – practically done”
Dr. Lee, Ph.D
not gonna lie someone in the comment section the first go around brought the idea of the "sweater curse" to my attention and it made me paranoid for the rest of the comic, lmao
Tessa
I was always SURE it was intentional, too. Wasn't she knitting something for Will in the deterioration of their relationship? I thought it was a purposeful flip, though, like the other ways their relationship defies Marigold's previous understanding of her life (vulnerability, sexuality).
whitworthforum
Eternal love for Jane slithering out of the sweater and managing to shock Mar doing it
Lomo
I just love how Jane glows in that sweater, with the thread wrapped around her thigh. what a gorgeous image to counter Mar's horror and dread.
Emily
To undo the sweater curse, teach your partner to knit and then you can knit each other sweaters. Worked like a charm for me.
David
Really love this page. That sliver in the first panel is so dark, and all throughout Mar’s performing calmness and humility in away that’s always reminded me of my grandma. Then Jane wriggles in wearing her heart on her sleeve (I’m sure there’s a pun here somewhere..) For me that flash of darkness, the performance and the difference in communication styles felt like relationship red flags, but I’m thoroughly convinced they’re working things out in a real human way, because Octopus Pie shows that it must be happening.. which kinda renews my faith in love! The undermining of the sweater curse is gorgeous.
Tangerine
The meaning in Marigold's knitting is especially resonant for me right now. I just took up knitting again, and as the concrete expression of love that I can make in a dark circumstance–a beloved friend and mentor was just diagnosed with a particularly awful form of cancer, and nothing I could think of to do during COVID (dropping off treat baskets on his porch, thoughtful texts) made the pain-of-not-giving-enough ease until I started knitting him an amazing blanket I saw at a trunk show. It drapes and wraps in a particular way and it's the hug I can't give him.
I work on it every day.
I don't have a picture of us together. It might be too late to get one, because COVID and immune-suppressing treatments.
But I can give him a blanket I made with my hands.
The landscape Marigold sees as she knits is the one I see, too.