Somewhere under his hat the tune began to move, one part expectation, and two parts spring sadness, and for the rest just a colossal delight at being alone.
‘The Spring Tune’
I took one of those “which Moominvalley” character are you personality quizzes. It would be great to be one of them and live amongst all of the others. Well, except for the Witch (not in these stories). She recalls a certain type of much older woman I’m afraid I’ll age into if I am around them too much. The kind that seem to have no life except for being obsessed with babies, new babies cast aside when they are also the too old babies. Jansson shines a light under the bed and into all of my hiding places of my sadness roots. Moominvalley is my happy place and my happy place must remind me that I purposely make myself feel sad when I am happy or I could never truly fit in there. Like, the Moominvalley denizens are terrified of The Groke in other stories (she’s not in this collection), their floating talisman of hunger that cannot be fed. I guess, after all, I don’t fear that kind of loneliness. The Groke knows what she is and I wanted to sit with her. Helplessly mute to be understood, yes, but there are no forgotten babies. So it was supposed to work out that I’d briefly feel if things had worked out differently I’d be listening to Moominpapa’s memoirs right now. I got Snufkin. There was something wronger than most with this quiz (still not lovably quirky like Gonzo, still waiting for the fuzzy blue transformation) because I’ll never be as cool as Snufkin. Snufkin himself would kindly help me understand that I’m not supposed to want to be as cool as him…. Half wishing he was chasing a mental tune into the real.... I adore Snufkin. He loves Moomintroll who would go into hibernation just so he wouldn’t have to miss his friend so badly. I want to be Moomintroll. Don’t want to wait for Christmas lights? Go to sleep. I think Jansson would cherish the waiting, though. One of my favorite stories in this set is about the Hemulen desiring his retirement so he can do nothing but love the empty rooms in his dollhouse. Of course I want to tell him you can just get a new dream and love the one that came true (okay, so Snufkin would do that). The children won’t understand that he can’t stop punching their amusement park tickets. His family “knew”, in the way that families think they know what is best for you, that he had to punch tickets to be happy. How it works out with their silent amusement park is a dream to me. I love watching children be happy and simultaneously revert to my own fetal position over shrieking. Kids begging for watermelon in grocery stores is my personal nightmare. I’m probably too fragile. Hemulen had it made with this. I want what he got that wasn’t his dream. Snufkin isn’t a shut-out I want to be alone with my savoring aloneness. When Sniff expects he’s going to be bullied into giving up his beloved toy because it’s the “Right thing to do”, the sacrifice isn’t the point of Snufkin’s story at all. The Fillyjonk (LOVED the wet and dark sea beating her carpet and too much inherited family junk staring down the judgement of what she thinks a snotty neighbor could improve if she’d just let Fillyjonk confess her fears) is similar. It isn’t the end of everything if the magic whatever can happen inside you to accept it happens. It isn’t about not wanting to be away from Moomintroll for Snufkin. I totally get it too. I pretty much always miss wherever I am not. I could miss that looked forward to time because I’m squeezing myself for a glimpse of how much I’m going to want it when it’s over. Snufkin is so comfortable with himself. I want to be envious of how comfortable with himself he is. It must be great to be Moomintroll and have this cool friend who can chase away the suspicious twinges things aren’t as they should be. It doesn’t matter if there isn’t anyone who can give you permission to switch on the right mood, though. Fillyjonk didn’t have it and the old lady he tells Sniff about discovers on her own when the laughter happens to shake the bone out of her gut and saves her life (thank god Sniff got to keep his Cedric. I hate it when anyone grows up too fast and Velveteen Rabbit sadness for no good reason).
I love Moominpapa the best. I bought myself a small plush of Moominpapa to sit on my favorite bookcase (there’s a wonderful instagram where someone takes him on adventures. I do this with a shark toy already but I’m still envious of the fun they must be having with Moominpapa). His story about the Hattenfatters is my very favorite. Moominpapa is haunted by their unspeakable mystery. Those long white figures look like they could start from the ground or start from the sky they are reaching. They never say a word and Moominpapa lets himself dismiss the veranda happiness of swimsuits on rocks and juice glasses in the sand (I wouldn’t want it anymore if it were everyday, either, I suppose. I love envying Moominpapa this life). I hope I never forget the quiet feeling inside I got looking at the illustrations of the electrifying gathering of all the Hattenfatters in their meeting boats. Moominpapa tries to stick with “his” three but he isn’t sure if he’s right about who they are. I wanted him to stop mind-reading them wrong that he was wrong and live his life as he wanted but it was also so right that sometimes you want to be like the Hattenfatters and just be quiet. Snufkin would have understood.
All of the pictures were great. Little My sitting like a cat on top of the wardrobe in her grandmother’s house when the Whomper from next door comes crying because the stories he frightened his little brother with came to frighten him instead. I don’t know if Little My was having him on or was she afraid too. Whomper’s dad is understanding about the Whomper’s whoppers. They go eat all of the dessert. I wish that would really happen that you could make yourself scared so you could feel all safe afterwards with desserts. (As a very little kid I was more like Little My then the rest of them. Mouthy and fearless except to make it more adventurous. I’m SHOCKED the personality quiz didn’t know this.)
Not too sure about the little invisible girl that lets herself disappear because she’s afraid of her judgmental aunt. The mood at just the right time saves her life, she laughs herself visible, as laughter has saved them all, but I missed the doing it on purpose that Snufkin and Moominpapa had. Fillyjonk and this girl let go and won't get their sadness back. That is more my speed so you can feel invisible and make it all go away by laughing at the same time. Stories never have to end if you can make it all happen at the same time. 9994015516 I only discovered the Moomins in my late twenties, but soon fell in love with the quirky charm of Jansson’s characters and their often melancholy musings. Her stories feel like they can be read on multiple levels, with younger readers delighting in the bizarre creations and older ones sensing the pensiveness behind their quests. There are magical events here: Moomintroll discovers a dragon small enough to be kept in a jar; laughter is enough to bring a fearful child back from literal invisibility. But what struck me more was the lessons learned by neurotic creatures. In “The Fillyjonk who believed in Disasters,” the title character fixates on her belongings—
“we are so very small and insignificant, and so are our tea cakes and carpets and all those things, you know, and still they’re important, but always they’re threatened by mercilessness…”
—but when a gale and a tornado come and sweep it all away, she experiences relief and joy:
“the strange thing was that she suddenly felt quite safe. It was a very strange feeling, and she found it indescribably nice. But what was there to worry about? The disaster had come at last.”
My other favourite was “The Hemulen who loved Silence.” After years as a fairground ticket-taker, he can’t wait to retire and get away from the crowds and the noise, but once he’s obtained his precious solitude he realizes he needs others after all. The final story, “The Fir Tree,” is a lovely Christmas one in which the Moomins, awoken midway through their winter hibernation, get caught up in seasonal stress and experience the holiday for the first time.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck. 9994015516 Sirdsmiera saglabāšanai un/vai atjaunošanai kā zāles lietoju vienu Muminu grāmatu mēnesī. Sirsnīgi un smieklīgi stāsti, un katrs burvīgs savā veidā, īpaši tas par baisajiem Ziemassvētkiem, kurus varbūt var mēģināt savaldzināt.
“Cilvēki ciena tādu, kas nemēdz pļāpāt. Viņi domā, ka tāds cilvēks aplam daudz zina un viņa dzīve ir briesmīgi trauksmaina.” 9994015516
What a pleasant surprise this book was! A collection of stories featuring different characters, their backstories, and with different atmospheres: cute, wholesome, creepy and melancholic, this was so much fun! 9994015516 Some children's books are really for grownups who need to get in touch with their primal needs and fears and dreams again!
Tove Jansson writes in a native Swedish that is so poetical, dark and strong that it gives me goosebumps. I always hear the text in my head in that stunningly beautiful accent that is typical for the Swedish-speaking community in Finland.
But apart from the literary luxury of Swedish in its most beautiful expression, the Moomin stories (and I mean the originals, not the commercial spin-offs!) deliver endless reflections on the interaction within families and communities of people with the most incompatible personalities.
Strangely, one can see oneself in all these people, though, as they are segments of the complicated mix that makes up each human being.
I am Snusmumriken longing for peace and freedom and bogged down by social duties. I am Filifjonkan, believing in catastrophes. I am Lilla My, wanting to kick and scream and be naughty. I am the invisible child, worried and pale. I am Muminpappan, trying to find a balance between being adventurous and a family member. I am not so much Moomin and his mum, actually, but I know them and respect and love them all the same. Sometimes I wish I could be them.
At work I try not to be so much like all the hemuls, but I sense myself falling into the pattern more often than not...
I am afraid of Mårran, but fascinated too.
My heart breaks with Sniff when he gives away his toy.
And Christmas is a dangerous dark cloud hanging over my confused head as well!
Tove Jansson's world is mine too, and I find comfort in the sad happiness that comes alive in her books! 9994015516
Tove Jansson ↠ 4 Read & Download
მუმიტროლი, სნუსმუმრიკი, ჰემული, სნიფი და უამრავი სხვა არსება, რომლებიც მუმინების ზღაპრულ ხეობაში ცხოვრობენ, უკვე რანდენიმე ათწლეულია ხიბლავენ მილიონობით ბავშვს მთელ მსოფლიოში.
,,მუმინების ბიბლიოთეკა - ტუვე იანსონის წიგნები მუმინების საოცარი ხეობისა და იქ მობინადრე ზღაპრული არსებების შესახებ. თითოეულ მათგანში ტექსტი და ავტორისეული ილუსტრაციები ერთ მომაჯადოებელ მთლიანობას ქმნის. უჩინარი ბავშვი (The Moomins #7)
Whoa now, these are some heavy hitting stories. My kid thought they were fun (and liked the ones where the Moomins show up), but they're all surprisingly deep.
My only critique is that you need to be familiar with the Moomins in general before reading these stories. Otherwise they won't make any sense.
But wow, this book is such a testament to what you can do with an already established world of characters and ideas. The stories here can get pretty soul rattling.
I'll definitely be reading more of Tove Jansson's short fiction. 9994015516 No eihän siinä koko Pääsiäistä mennyt Muumimaailmassa, vaan lueskelin muitakin kirjoja. Pidin vain pientä jännitystä yllä, sillä blogini 4v. synttärit ovat maaliskuussa ja toivoisin mahdollisimman monen osallistuvan kirja-arvontoihin blogissani.
http://kirjasahkokayra.blogspot.fi/20...
Näkymätön lapsi on arvonnan yksi kirjoista.
Näkymätön lapsi ja muita kertomuksia sisältää yhdeksän kertomusta, joista jotkut voivat olla hyvinkin pelottavia. Näillä tarinoilla ei haluta perinteisessä mielessä pelotella lapsia, vaan niiden takana on syvempääkin pohdiskelua. Ihana Tove ja ihana Ninni, joka tulit näkyväksi Muumimamman rakkauden ja hellyyden ansiosta. 9994015516 This is a collection of short stories set in Moomin Valley and it’s really quite good. Not all the stories feature the Moomins themselves but it’s none the worse for that. A highlight for me was the tale in which Moomintroll discovers a dragon.
My next book: Essential Man-Thing vol. 1 9994015516 One of the most rewarding pieces of juvenile fiction I've read in a while, possessing a surprising maturity that is distinctly nordic in tone: combines poetry, understated whimsy, and dry wit with a note of gentle melancholy running through it all. 9994015516 What a bunch of strange, opaque, elliptical little stories.
This is my first entry into the Moomin world, Jansson's books having passed me by as a child. I was dubious - the pastelly coloured covers of the editions I keep weighing in my hands then returning to the shelves in Unity have put me off - but this was lent to me by a close friend whose taste I trust.
I flipped the book over and read the blurb first:
If you found a tiny golden dragon with green paws, would you know what to do it it?
Well, Moomintroll thinks he knows what to do. But when he takes his new-found pet home, things don't work out as planned!
At the sight of that exclamation mark my heart sank. Japes ahoy, I thought - cute little animals getting up to whimsical things.
I couldn't have been more wrong. It might be because I was dropped into the Moomin world without any preparation, but the only thing I would childlike and traditionally delightful in this book were the names of the various creatures - the Moomins themselves, the Mymble, the whompers and creeps and fillyjonks, all words to savour across the lips.
Apart from that, I found the stories dark and puzzling and quite moving. In 'The Spring Tune' Snufkin is interrupted in his solitary wanderings (he is trying to let a song come to him, a new tune, one part expectation, two parts spring sadness, and for the rest, just the delight of walking alone and liking it) by a little creep (some kind of forest creature) whose chatter drags him back towards his obligations, and who then asks him for a great favour - a name of his own. Snufkin, eventually, reluctantly, diffidently, offers 'Teety-woo' - a light beginning, sort of, and a little sadness to round it off. And then
The little creep stared at him with yellow eyes in the firelight. It thought its name over, tasted it, listened to it, crawled inside it, and finally turned its snout up to the sky and softly howled its new name, so sadly and ecstatically than Snufkin felt a shiver along his back.
'The Fillyjonk who believed in Disasters' is a small, fantastical, psychological study of a woman who is living a life that doesn't fit her properly, and chafing against it, breaking free in the only way she can - her imagination:
Those storms of her own were the worst ones. And deep down in her heart the fillyjonk was just a little proud of her disasters that belonged to no one else.
Gaffsie is a jackass, she thought. A silly woman with cakes and pillow-slips all over her mind. And she doesn't know a thing about flowers. And least of all about me. Now she's sitting at home thinking that I haven't ever experienced anything. I, who see the end of the world every day, and still I'm putting on my clothes, and taking them off again, and eating and washing-up the dishes and receiving visits, just as if nothing ever happened!
Some of the stories are relatively straightforward - little Ninny, the girl who has become invisible out of neglect, and becomes visible again once enfolded in the Moomin family; the gentle satire of the Moomin's first Christmas.
But it's 'The Secret of the Hattifatteners' that really sticks in my mind. Despite the ludicrous title, it strikes me as having strange similarities toMalory's Holy Grail - a journey undertaken not from choice but from some force of fate, of unhappy and bemusing travels, of fear and discovery (up until the last couple of pages, which gentle back down, without the tragedy of Malory).
It's the opening of the story that really struck me:
Once upon a time, rather long ago, it so happened that Moominpappa went away from the house without the least explanation and without even himself understanding why he had to go.
Moominmamma said afterwards that he had seemed odd for quite a time, but probably he hadn't been odder than usual. That was just one of those things that one thinks up afterwards when one's bewildered and sad and wants the comfort of an explanation.
That's not an opening that belongs in a whimsical children's book. That's the beginning to a hundred thousand children's stories about why someone who shouldn't have left did.
I'm not sure now if I want to back-read more of Jansson's books, or if I want to move straight on to her adult books and savour the weirdness of this little collection a little longer. 9994015516