Tove Jansson (1914–2001)

I am having a lot of feels about approaching the end of Tove Jansson's works that have been translated into English that I have not read yet.

I love her so much.

Her writing is so matter of fact that the premise of this book comes off as almost reasonable, even as what happens in this book borders on the unhinged. Over the course of a winter in a small Scandinavian village, the lives of two very different women collide. Katri, a young adult living with her teenage brother, does not fit into show more the village. Anna, an older artist who illustrates children's books, is a bit of a local institution, even as she stays mostly in her house juat outside the village, and barely interacts with anyone but the man who delivers the mail and the groceries, and the woman who comes to clean once a week. Anna is sentimental, whereas Katri does not believe in dissembling or social niceties.

Like most of Jansson's work, this deals in the life of the artist, in where creativity comes from and the demands placed upon it. It is also very much about how to live in community, both the rewards and trials of relationship, and what we owe one another. This work in particular is about deception, especially self-deception, what it means to see and think clearly.

And as always in Jansson's works, nature and the weather set the tone. The snowdrifts that are cleared and then re-form by the next day. The ice, and the first signs of its retreat. The changing amounts of light.

I found my sympathies constantly shifting between Katri and Anna in this book. But of course, they aren't exactly in opposition, and neither is truly a villain. Katri's actions are certainly sometimes shocking, and it is also sometimes difficult to answer whether Anna losing some of her illusions is good for her or not.

I wish I could visit them again, five years down the road from the end of this book. show less

https://nwhyte.livejournal.com/3155346.html

These are really superb little chunks of Moominland, not at all whimsical, but dark and thoughtful pieces that speak to adults trying to make sense of an imperfect world. The funniest perhaps is the last one, "The Fir Tree" ("Granen"), in which the Moomins, who normally hibernate, are woken up for Christmas and try to make sense of it. But my favourite is "The Secret of the Hattifatteners" ("Hatifnattarnas hemlighet"), in which Moominpappa abandons show more home and family to try and find some extra meaning in life, and ends up in a confrontation with dark and incomprehensible forces. I must have first read it when I was seven or eight, and it hit me then quite differently to how it hits me now. But they are all good. show less

This is a quiet book. But make no mistake. It has emotional depth.

Sophia is a little girl whose mother has died. With her father and grandmother she spends her summers in a cottage on an island in the Gulf of Finland, an island perhaps not unlike the one where Jansson herself spent many summers. In words that are spare, but atmospheric, matching the rocky and forested coast, the two wile away their days without the help of television or electronic devices. Imagination is at work here and all show more nature itself is a creative workshop. But life is not Pollyannish. Scary things happen, especially in the eye of a young girl whose mother has recently died. Storms come up, insects swarm auguring disaster, overgrown bushes scape against legs, an earthworm is sliced in two, an overcoat in the attic has something living in it. Sophia’s grandmother always seems to help her through, not by sentimental cooing, but by giving her room to grow. The chapter “Angleworms and Others” is a particularly wonderful example of this.

The stories are illustrated with charming pen and ink drawings, presumably, by Jannson herself, written after the death of her own mother. The chapters are stories that can stand alone. But together they can be a metaphor for living - teaching, respecting nature, growing up and growing old, and leaving things for posterity. show less

Such a quiet book, with no plot to speak of-- but utterly vivid. As you read it you are transformed into its characters. The specificity, beauty, and imperfection of the little island world with its comforts and alien magic will make you nostalgic for a childhood not your own.