Stories in Stitchery as a Reading List Becomes a Quilt

Courtesy Emily Cockayne

Historian Emily Cockayne’s cover embroideries that she is making for a book quilt  include Gillian Rose’s Love’s Work. 

When most of us finish a book we’ve enjoyed, we might make a note in a journal, post about it on social media, or maybe mention it to a friend. Emily Cockayne, an associate professor in early modern history at the University of East Anglia in Norwich, England, commemorates it by quilting its cover.

“I started hand quilting and patchwork when I went to live with my grandma when I was eight years old,” said Cockayne, a cultural historian who has written books on the history of rubbish, neighbors, and urban filth. “Like many from her generation, nan was obsessed with limiting waste and using everything up, and she had lots of scraps of fabric because she worked as a dressmaker.”

Cockayne spent about twelve years on her first quilt. “Nan inspired the rule I follow with quilting: never buy fabric, only reuse materials,” she said. “This has presented some challenges when trying to find the right colors to match book covers.” She uses embroidery and appliqué needlework to interpret the details of the covers. “My mother is a very accomplished machine embroiderer, and I used to watch her create magnificent designs when I was a child.”

This project started last year, when she was struggling to achieve a good work-life balance, and fretting that she was neither reading nor sewing as much as she wanted.

While the quilt will be a mix of genres, Cockayne is especially drawn to contemporary nonfiction, such as Rachel Hewitt’s In Her Nature.
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Courtesy Emily Cockayne

While the quilt will be a mix of genres, Cockayne is especially drawn to contemporary nonfiction, such as Rachel Hewitt’s In Her Nature.

Her work on Noreen Masud’s A Flat Place was one of her first experiments in using craft to read more closely.
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Courtesy Emily Cockayne

Her work on Noreen Masud’s A Flat Place was one of her first experiments in using craft to read more closely.

Cockayne sewed by hand the panel inspired by Rosalind Brown’s Practice in tribute to the book’s meditation on process and making.
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Courtesy Emily Cockayne

Cockayne sewed by hand the panel inspired by Rosalind Brown’s Practice in tribute to the book’s meditation on process and making.

One of the covers Cockayne recently recreated in textile is Marion Gibson’s The Witches of St Osyth (2022) on sixteenth-century witch accusations in Essex.
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Courtesy Emily Cockayne

One of the covers Cockayne recently recreated in textile is Marion Gibson’s The Witches of St Osyth (2022) on sixteenth-century witch accusations in Essex.

“I set myself the challenge of embroidering the cover designs, with the motivating aim of eventually being able to wrap myself in pleasant bookish memories in the form of a double quilt,” she said. “At the time, I was reading Noreen Masud’s A Flat Place, and that inspired me to try to extend the ways I think about books I read, making them more tactile experiences.”

Since then, Cockayne has created fabric versions of the covers of every book she finishes and enjoys, mostly nonfiction titles, but she has plans to up the fiction numbers. (She shares her progress on X/Twitter, where she is @Rummage_work.) She is currently on her twelfth cover—All That She Carried: The Journey of Ashley’s Sack, a Black Family Keepsake by Tiya Miles—and estimates that she will need between sixty-six and seventy-two pieces before she can stitch them all together.

Most of the book cover pieces combine patchwork and hand embroidery, with machined additions. If she feels the book demands some quiet reflection, she handsews more of the cover. All of Rosalind Brown’s Practice, for instance, was handsewn because the book itself made her think about sitting quietly, doing things while thinking, and the processes of making things.

“My favorite covers are those for Gillian Rose’s Love’s Work and Marion Gibson’s The Witches of St. Osyth, the former for the joyous, colorful exuberance and the latter for the vibrancy of the pink juxtaposed against the dark grays,” she said. “I fear that I might start to select books I will read in the future by the look of the cover and that I am more inclined to read books now that have attractive or challenging cover designs. I have also tried to think about each book as I embroider it, a kind of extended process of reflection, sewing myself back into the stories.”