A slow and moody story, unlike the other books in the series. A small group of misfits, each one for his own personal reason, converge on Moominvalley intent on finding or re-connecting with the Moomin family, but the Moomins are inexplicably absent. Slowly these anti-social creatures get used to living together and by the time they say goodbye, each one has found more or less exactly what they needed to find.
This was the final Moomin book Tove Jansson wrote, and it shows. It was a harder read than the other books so far, but in the end a rewarding one; and it lingers. One of the most poignant things in it is the contrast between the Hemulen's dreams of sailing and the reality of it when he finally does go sailing with Snufkin.
Snufkin is almost like a Zen saint, doing as little as possible, but only just enough to help each one of the others find their way.
Quotes:
The bridge had always been the place for good-byes. The Hemulen's boots and socks were dry and he was ready to leave. The wind was still blowing and his thin hair was all over the place. He had caught a cold, or perhaps it was just emotion.
Less than a mile east of the valley the Hemulen came down to the river, looked thoughtfully at the dark running water and the thought occurred to him that life was like a river. Some people sailed on it slowly, some quickly, and some capsized. I'll tell that to Moominpappa, the Hemulen thought gravely. I think it must be a completely new thought. Just fancy, thoughts come easily today, and everything has become so straightforward. All you have to do is walk out of the door with your hat on a a jaunty angle! Perhaps I'll take the boat out. I'll sail out to sea. I can feel the firm pressure of the rudder on my paw... The firm pressure of the rudder on my paw, the Hemulen repeated, and now he felt so happy it almost hurt. He fastened his belt round his fat stomach and walked on along the river.
He was frightfully old and forgot things very easily. One dark autumn morning he woke up and had forgotten what his name was. It's a little sad when you forget other people's names but it's lovely to be able to completely forget your own. (Gramdpa-Grumble)
At first light Snufkin went to the beach to fetch his five bars of music. He climbed over the banks of seaweed and driftwood and stood on the sand waiting. They came immediately and they were more beautiful and even simpler than he hoped they would be.
No comments:
Post a Comment