1956 in children’s literature

Kjerringa som ble så lita som ei teskje (Mrs. Pepperpot) by Alf Prøysen

Mrs. Pepperpot, or teskedsgumman/teskjekjerringa as she is called in Norwegian and Swedish, is the protagonist in a series of children’s book by Alf Prøysen. Every time she gets particularly busy she tends to suddenly shrink to the size of a tea spoon (tesked/teskje). Fortunately she instead gains the ability to speak with animals and this, together with her wit, allows her to solve the various problems her miniature size causes.

My impression is that these are stories that ought to be read aloud for a fairly young child. In many ways the stories resemble classical Norwegian fairy tales and the language, in the Norwegian version written in dialect, should be well-suited for reading aloud. Unfortunately I had no child to test this on and read silently I found the stories a bit short and simple and not that interesting for an adult reader.

See also Marina Sofia’s review of Little Old Mrs. Pepperpot.

Captain of Dragoons by Ronald Welch

The Carey novels are a series of historical fiction novels centred around British history (mostly war history) and all following a member of the fictional Carey family. In Captain of Dragoons the focus is on Charles Carey, a Captain in the Duke of Marlborough’s army.

I am always interested in a good adventure story and Captain of Dragoons indeed feature thrilling events such as duels, espionage and daring escapes, but for some reason I failed to connect with the main character, which made all of it a bit flat. All in all I found it fairly well-written for the genre and I did enjoy it, but it would probably have been more interesting if I had a bit more of an interest in UK history.

Rasmus på luffen (Rasmus and the Vagabond) by Astrid Lindgren

I have saved my favourite for last. Of course you never go very wrong with Astrid Lindgren and Rasmus and the Vagabond, despite being one of her lesser known books, is a lovely book. I don’t think I have read it before but I vaguely remember the TV-series.

The protagonist Rasmus is a nine-year-old orphan. After having been once again rejected by a pair of potential parents, who instead picked a curly haired girl, he decides to run away from the orphanage to find some parents for himself. As an adult I could see multiple ways this could go wrong but fortunately the first person he meets is Paradis Oskar, a friendly vagabond who takes him under his wings. Less fortunately they soon encounter a pair of robbers who tries to blame Oskar for their deeds.

As an adult reader the robber-plot was the least interesting part of the story, although I’m sure it would have been thrilling to the intended audience. I was however very much invested in Rasmus quest to find himself some parents. Rasmus is a lovely portrait of a sensitive, affection starved boy, and his friendship with Oskar is very sweet.

My family and other animals by Gerald Durrell

In addition to the books above I have recently reread Gerald Durrell’s childhood memoir My family and other animals, which is one of my favourite memoirs, and which was also first published in 1956. I have previously reviewed it here, and can now confirm that it is well-worth a reread.

For other great reads from 1956 you should visit Karen at Kaggsy’s bookish ramblings and Simon at Stuck in a book, the two hosts of the 1956Club.

The Wonderful Adventures of Nils

In 1906-1907 Selma Lagerlöf published The Wonderful Adventures of Nils (orig. Nils Holgerssons underbara resa), a book she had been commissioned to write as a geography textbook for Swedish school children. Rather than writing a normal, boring, textbook she wanted it to be exciting and interesting, while still being educational. The result was the story about Nils Holgersson, who angered the local tomte on his family farm in southern Sweden, and as a punishment got shrunk until he too was small as a tomte. In this new miniaturized state, he travelled with the wild geese all the way from his family home in the far south, to the mountains in northernmost Sweden and back, visiting all the Swedish regions along the way.

While the plot itself is simple, shaped like a classical morality tale, what stands out is Lagerlöf’s storyteller abilities and the way she makes the landscapes come to life. In a time when few children would have travelled much farther than the next village, it must have been especially fascinating to follow Nils’ travels (and by air no less!). Lagerlöf gives all Swedish regions memorable and accurate descriptions (Skåne seen from above is e.g. described like a chequered cloth, with fields and pastures forming the squares) and tell not only of Nils’ many adventures along the way but also retells old myths and stories from each region. The result is a novel which has not only been used in Swedish schools but which has been reprinted again and again, translated into 40 languages, listed on Le Monde’s list of 100 books of the century, and filmed multiple times. It is very far from your ordinary geography textbook. In 1909 Selma Lagerlöf was the first woman to be awarded the Noble Prize in Literature (although not primarily for Nils Holgersson).

I had read about Nils, adventures as a child, but unfortunately not in school where we instead read a bland story about a boy and his cat travelling through Sweden, clearly inspired by Lagerlöf but with none of her genius. However, I wanted to reread it as an adult and therefore added it to my Classics club reading list. This summer, when I was finally able to return to Sweden for vacation after months of closed borders, it was lovely to imagine travelling freely with the geese. It ended up being one of my favourite reads this summer.

Lappland

A woman in the polar night

I have waited long for the opportunity to read Christiane Ritter’s memoir from the year she spent living in a remote hunting cabin on Svalbard. I saw a copy of it ten years ago and it sounded perfect for me, but it was unfortunately only available in German. I am thus very happy that Pushkin press has decided to reprint the English translation so that I finally got to read it!

The memoir follows Christiane Ritter in the year 1934/1935 as she joins her husband and a Norwegian friend of his in a small lonely cabin in the north of Svalbard. Her husband, Hermann Ritter, is evidently already an experienced Svalbard hunter by the time she joins them but Christiane is a well-off Austrian with no Arctic experience. It seems courageous, if not outright foolish, of Hermann to ask her to join him for a full year. His Norwegian friend Karl is even convinced that “the lady from central Europe” will go off her head during the winter. However Christiane adapts to and eventually comes to love Svalbard.

It is perhaps not the most adventurous Arctic tale there is, Christiane does join on a few trips but mostly stays in the relative safety around the cabin. Even so life in the Arctic provides plenty of challenges and drama and in addition Christiane writes about the effects of darkness and isolation, of the harshness and beauty of the landscape and on how she changes in response to it. It is thus more introspective than most Arctic memoirs, which together with the fact that Christiane Ritter is a really good writer, only adds to its appeal. In some ways the it reminded me of Helge Ingstad’s East of the Great Glacier memoir, which I also thoroughly enjoyed. Although Helge Ingstad did get around a lot more, he too seemed more interested in the Arctic itself than in promoting his own accomplishments.

 

 

Comet in Moominland

All will be well

I’m staying in Moominvalley, which is a pretty great place to be in right now. Admittedly in the novel I just finished, Comet in Moominland, the valley had its own problems with a comet heading right towards them, but other than the slight question of impending doom, things were as they used to be.

Mumin (Moomin) is once again the protagonist and together with Sniff he sets out on the dangerous journey towards the observatory to learn all they can about the coming disaster. Along the way they pick up a few  new friends, Snusmumriken (Snufkin), Snorkfröken (Snork maiden) and Snorken (Snork), who all make their first appearances in this story. I especially enjoy Snusmumriken, a care-free tramp and Mumin’s best friend, who always makes me long for a few nights in the woods.

Comet in Moominland is the second of the Moomin books and thus has less of the beautifully melancholy feeling prevalent in the later books, but what it has instead is a strong feeling of adventure and a promise that no matter how dark it looks, in the end all will be well.

Other reviews of Comet in Moominland

• Ola at Re-enchanment Of The World
• Chris at Calmgrove

In addition Paula at Book Jotter has collected various Tove Jansson related posts and links.

My previous Tove Jansson reviews:

• The Magician’s Hat (Finn Family Moomintroll)
• Moominland midwinter
• Moominpappa at Sea
• November in Moominvalley
• The Summer Book

 

 

 

The Magician’s Hat

Troubling times calls for comforting books and few things are as comforting Tove Jansson‘s Moomin family. In addition the novel I selected for a reread, Finn Family Moomintroll (original title: Trollkarlens hatt, Direct translation: The Magician’s Hat) is probably the most uplifting of them.

In The Magician’s Hat (I really don’t like the English title…) we follow the Moomin family and their friends during their summer adventures, adventures that are getting even more magical by a certain influence from a strange black hat. While all the Moomin novels have at least a touch of melancholy in them, this one is a distinctly happy story.

In general I like the darker Moomin stories better, especially Moominland midwinter and Tales from Moominvalley. It is not even Jansson’s best summer novel, her The Summer Book is one of my favourite books in all categories.  Still, out of the lighter Moomin books, this one is probably my favourite. I enjoy the overarching story-arc around the magical hat and reading it just gives me the feeling of a happy summer holiday.

Previous Tove Jansson reviews:

• Moominland midwinter
• Moominpappa at Sea
• November in Moominvalley
• The Summer Book

Winter reading

I thought that the spring was already here. The wind was warm, the sun shone and the snow only held on the higher mountains and in the most shaded spots. I should have known better, two days of heavy snowfall later and the landscape is white again (the photo was taken this morning). To get back into proper winter mood I decided to reread Moominland Midwinter (Trollvinter), my favourite winter book and one of the best Moomin books.

Moomin trolls are of course summer creatures who normally hibernate through the winters, but one year Moomin accidentally wakes up early from his winter sleep and thus becomes the first moomin troll to experience a winter. In moominland Midwinter we get to follow his explorations of the strange, cold, dark, lonely world he has awaken to. It is a bit of a bildunsgroman, with Moomin learning to adapt to and eventually enjoy his new environment, and a beautiful portrait of one of my favourite seasons. Perhaps the Nordic countries should just hand it to every immigrant from a warmer country to let them know what to expect?

As it is a Moomin book it is also filled with Tove Jansson‘s amazing characters. I know that it was first published in 1957 but I am sure that I have met most of them and some obvious relatives of Hemulen come by our summer cabin every year.

Paula at Book Jotter has written a more extensive review of Moominland Midwinter and is collecting reviews on Tove Jansson’s works in her Tove trove, go and take a look if you haven’t already.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fredman’s epistles

I have just spent time in some 18th century Stockholm bars. The drinking was heavy, the clientele disreputable and death only a short step away from the party, as I was reading, listening and singing through the songs of Swedish poet and musician Carl Michael Bellman (1740-1795). His songs move quickly from high to low, from romantic or sacral themes and straight into the gutters (much like the man himself), painting a striking and entertaining picture of 18th century Stockholm along the way.

Fredman’s epistles (1790), which I read, is the first of two collections of Bellman’s songs. Bellman is a central figure in Swedish song tradition, and provided plenty of high-class dinner/drinking songs for my student choir, so I was already familiar with his more popular works, but this was the first time I explored some of his less famous songs. It has been a very interesting experience, as it was a song collection I was not satisfied by just reading them but had to listen to as many of them as possible, and occasionally sing along, which allowed me to experience his work on many levels. As many of his characters are recurring the lesser known song also added to my appreciation of his better known works. However, what I really started to appreciate as I read, apart from his musical abilities, was his skill in setting the scenes, allowing me to experience 18th century Stockholm through his texts.

Fredman’s epistles is part of my Classics club reading challenge. Bellman has also been translated into English by Paul Britten Austin, but as I read them in Swedish I can’t vouch for the translation.

 

 

The history of snow

The darkest day is not in the mid-winter but right before the first winter snow. Few things can transform a landscape so completely as the first snow. What once was a muddy grey-black darkness is now sparkling in bright white and blue, every lost ray of light reflected and multiplied.

As I have moved north my winters have become longer and whiter but I still live southerly enough that the bright winters are threatened. As the climate warms they will shorten in both ends, light snow transform into dreary rain and sleet, causing not only ecological and hydrological changes but also cultural ones.

Reading The History of Snow (Snöns historia) by Mats Ekdahl was therefore a melancholy pleasure. The author wanders from literature to science, from polar exploration to winter warfare, from winter sport to art, in his attempt to provide a full portrait of snow and ice. Along the way he encounters a broad range of characters, among them Fridtjof Nansen and Ernest Hemingway, Simone de Beauvoir and Pava-Lasse Tuorda, Cora Sandel and Olaus Magnus, Louis Agassiz and Lindsey Vonn.

It is thus a very broad text, never as in-depth as I would have liked, but always interesting and intelligent, covering the historical and cultural significance of snow and showing us the things we may lose. I hope it will eventually get an English translation, until then i recommend it to anyone who can read it in Swedish.

Going Solo

I have a soft spot for stories about early aviation (fact or fiction) and another one for the memoirs from Slightly Foxed, so when they recently published Going Solo, Roald Dahl’s memoir about his time working for Shell in East Africa in the 1930s and flying for RAF during WWII, I was a very early customer.

As a memoir it is a bit of a failure as it is hard to know which parts that are true and which that are not. Roald Dahl clearly doesn’t let pesky things such as accuracy get in the way of a good story and I am thus not sure how much I really learned about his life. However, I’ don’t really mind because even if he tells tall stories, they are great tall stories told by a fabulous story teller and that is an art form I admire.

I had promised myself to savour it for a bit and not finish it in one evening, as I did with his childhood memoir Boy, but it is a page-turner. I liked it even better than Boy.

Momo – micro review

Michael Ende may be best know for The Neverending Story, but my favourite novel of his has always been Momo. In it the young girl Momo sees her friends turn into hollow shadows of themselves as they one by one gets tricked into saving time by mysterious Grey Men. It is a beautiful exploration of the concept of time and have some really disturbing antagonists, I really recommend it!

As Momo is a childhood favourite of mine I would have liked to give you a proper review, but the truth is that I am too tired. Last week was long and stressful and although all went well it left me drained. In fact it left me pretty much like the victims of the Grey Men so perhaps I should have taken the novel’s warning that to save time is to waste life more seriously…