I hate fishing, I've never been to Norfolk, and I'd certainly never heard of John Craske before reading this wonderful book. I did so because I've just read Time Song - Searching For Doggerland - by the same author and it was mesmerising. In Threads she tells the story of John Craske, a Norfolk fisherman who is struck down by a catastrophic yet undiagnosed illness in his prime. His only escape from this is to produce some wonderful paintings and embroideries of the seascape he remembers, culminating in his grand opus depicting the wartime evacuation of Dunkirk. But this is no dry and factual biography. Apart from some superb illustrations, it covers the efforts of a small group of Craske's devotees, remarkable characters in themselves, to gain the painter the recognition he deserves, and also the dedication of Craske's wife Laura, with whom the author identifies as her autobiographical aside is developed. This is an engrossing book, warmly written and easily read. My book of the year by far.

A delight from beginning to end. Julia Blackburn weaves her way through landscape and time to create a picture of a man hanging on to life by threads of creativity. She embroiders her work much as Craske did his. Through Ms Blackburn's delicate prose the reader is taken on a journey of discovery with the essence of Craske always tantalisingly out of reach. A book of secrets and hidden gems to be read again and again. Much like a work of art there is always something new revealed.

I discovered this book when I was in Aldeburgh, earlier in the summer and was compelled to buy it. John Craske was an East Anglian fisherman who, because of a mysterious illness that meant he spent large parts of his life unable to work, became a painter and needleworker. His subject was the boats and sea he had grown up living and working on. There is some similarity to the better known work of Alfred Wallis who painted out of St. Ives, but I found Craske a much more compelling character. I think this is in large part due to Julia Blackburn's writing and handling of her subject matter. She confronts head on the lack of material about Craske and her often futile hunt for him becomes an important part of the book. There is no clear narrative thread, she wanders back and forth, meeting people, getting side tracked by reports of Einstein and Walt Disney, devoting parts of the book to her relationship with her husband and allowing the writing to ebb and flow like the tide. I love this kind of writing. I can imagine that for other people it might be infuriating, but I was as delighted by the author as I was by her subject.