A Winter Book

Now I'm about to see my territory from the sea for the first time, that's important. I pulled up the anchor-stone and rowed straight out into the path of the moon. Of course the moon's path is lovely as a picture in calm weather, but when it's rough, it's even more beautiful, all splinters and flakes from precious stones like sailing through a sea set with diamonds. And at that very moment Dad turned up… My favourite story though, is the one that follows, in a section entitled Travelling Light, signifying the latter years, where annoyance is more likely the emotion of choice to greet uninvited guests in place of the enthusiasm or delight of her more youthful years.

Even when that guest is an island-hopping squirrel. Either I am incredibly gullible or this story will teach you something new about the intelligence of squirrels, as a reader I was right there with squirrel and hoping for the best, while Jansson was lining up his escape options, ill-inclined to do anything to encourage the lonesome animal to stay.

She didn't care about squirrels, or fly fishermen, or anyone, but just let herself slip down into a great despondency and admit she was disappointed. It is with a quiet sadness but knowledge that many happy hours were spent, that we turn the last page on that final visit. View all 3 comments. Mar 21, notgettingenough rated it liked it Shelves: I wish the short story commanded more respect. We live in a world where anything that isn't a novel is 'a short story'. I doubt one of these, not really a book by Tove Jansson, but a collection of her work put together by others, stands up as a 'story'.

It's an odd hotchpotch of pieces. Why isn't that a word used more often for writing? Why can't we have a book of 'pieces'? View all 15 comments. I racconti poetici dell'infanzia felice della scrittrice lasciano troppo presto il posto, nell'ultimo terzo del libro, a, come dire? Ho cercato su diversi siti, quasi tutti acqua in bocca. Es hat ein paar sehr tolle Kurzgeschichten drin.

And many of these short stories aren't even set in winter. But it was on a special offer, and it was nearly winter, so I got it anyway. The stories are divided into three sections: The first two lots are semi-autobiographical tales set during Jansson's bohemian childhood, many from The Sculptor's Daughter ; her mother was also an artist, a book illustrator.

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These pieces are what one might aspire to on a short creative writing course. Though on most only one person — not me — and the tutor, would get close, for they are excellent examples of what they are. Prettily brittle, plenty of background detail left unexplained, slight melancholy, occasional episodes of magic realism, child narrators; you know the sort of thing.

The naive child narrator with limited understanding really didn't work for me; I enjoyed hearing more about Tove Jansson's life, but wanted her reflective adult perspective on these scenes. What I did like here: The narrator's age is indeterminate, perhaps an artistic, childlike adult. If you have carried big heavy things home through the street, or lived in a block of flats that was a bit too neighbourly for your liking, it may strike some chords.

Also contains a lovely idea of making a room for oneself and the thing carried in public, the kind of thing that can be magic or simply psychological technique depending on your perspective.

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I also appreciated 'Annie', as if exchanging reminiscences with the narrator about an experience few friends share. I might have liked the story 'Snow' if I hadn't read another more exciting, less childlike take on the same subject a couple of days earlier - being snowed in right up to the chimney of the house - 'At the Bottom of the Snow Ocean' by Gunnar Gunnarsson, in the anthology Christmas in Scandinavia. I was throughly disillusioned, treating this as a book to get finished and out of the way, when there turned out to be three gems in the first half of 'Travelling Light' - the section which has stories of old age.

Perhaps this protagonist is an alter-ego of Jansson if she'd been single and less successful. A middle-aged woman living a spartan life alone on a small island, slightly alcohol-dependent, sees a squirrel has arrived on shore on a piece of flotsam. I love the efforts to keep life organised, and the mixed feelings about the squirrel - she is fascinated by this new mammalian company and cares how the squirrel is, yet doesn't want to feel responsible for it or keep it as a pet.

I was reminded how intense the relationship-in-one's-head with an animal can be, trying to determine what a creature might think or feel when you can't ask it, how it clicks into the internal working models that textbooks associate with looking after a child. There is also a lovely photograph of the author holding a tame red squirrel. I never thought Tove Jansson could be this funny, and I wish there was a whole book about Klara.

Are these short paragraphs answerphone messages, excerpts from letters, or both? Manufacturers ask about making Moomin loo paper and similarly absurd licensed products. Aspiring writers and kids with homework want her to help them. Her partner leaves notes about popping out on errands. Mad people write mad things. Lonely people write because they mustn't have a friend who'd identify with a thought the way they think Jansson would.

Inconsistent is perhaps the accepted nature of short story collections, but this one provoked more mixed feelings in me than most. I'm very glad I perservered to the final third and found the wonderful stories there. What I hadn't expected earlier in the book was that it would make me want to read more of Jansson as long as there is a adult narrator. A Winter Book is a collection of Tove Jansson's short stories. She is of course best known as the creator of the Moomins, but her work for adults has become increasingly appreciated in recent years.

I came to this having read A Summer Book, which although read partly as a series of short stories, centred entirely on a grandmother and granddaughter, and their adventures and relationship on a Finnish island. It was heavily autobiographical - and A Winter Book also clearly draws much on Jansson's life. But this is a more disparate and diverse work, drawn actually from five different short story collections. And in fact it isn't always set in winter. It may then lack the cohesion of A Summer Book but nevertheless it has the same capacity to enchant, delight and move.

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The stand-out story features a woman alone on a Finnish island who becomes obsessed with a squirrel that has invaded her solitude. At times an irritation, it also becomes a source of consolation and a break into her loneliness. It is one of the best short stories I have read. Some of the 20 stories focus on childhood, others on old age. There are moments of magic and wonder. At one point a girl drops a lantern into an iceberg, and watches the illuminated block of ice disappear into the night.

Another story sees the whole of Helsinki gain the power of flight. Some are more playful with form - one tale is a series of letters; another appears to be extracts of fan mail and odd requests to the author; another a series of almost poetic messages from a Japanese superfan. The collection finishes with a poignant and very real-feeling tale of old age. A woman and her partner come to the sad conclusion they are now too frail to continue to spend their summers on their Finnish island home.

A Winter Book by Tove Jansson - Moomin : Moomin

But although there is a melancholic note to this and many stories, this is also a book about living and joy. It confirmed to me just what a special talent Jansson was. Monipuolinen, ajaton, mutta liian sekava kokoelma. Apr 20, Calzean rated it liked it Shelves: I enjoyed the first two parts more as Jansson captures her childhood in some great stories and in the such a believable child then teen voice. Nov 12, Amy rated it really liked it Shelves: I think -- and believe me, I don't say this lightly -- that Tove Jansson 's The Summer Book is my favourite book of all time.

So, in all honestly, I couldn't help but come to its twin A Winter Book hoping desperately for the same witty, profound and beautifully observed stories of love, life and growing up. Much more personal than The Summer Book although that was based on Jansson's own experiences, too , I f I think -- and believe me, I don't say this lightly -- that Tove Jansson 's The Summer Book is my favourite book of all time.

Much more personal than The Summer Book although that was based on Jansson's own experiences, too , I felt that you learn more about the author by watching how she and other characters relate to the world and deal with the unexpected. Like Summer, it focuses on young girls and elderly ladies and the differences and similarities between the two. All her stories have such a light-handed touch but still manage to feel infinitely profound, above and beyond many writers with loftier ambitions. I'm gushing, aren't I? Regardless, I think Tove Jansson is a genius. Feb 09, Catie rated it liked it Shelves: Aug 07, Nikki rated it liked it Shelves: Instead, this is a selection of short stories written throughout her life, many of them autobiographical or otherwise revealing.

Things are just so. Reviewed for The Bibliophibian. Jan 18, Gala rated it it was amazing. Ci ho messo mesi a leggerlo: Le storie parlano di vita famigliare, anche se i protagonisti sono indistinti. Le prime due sezioni contengono racconti classici bello quello sul Natale e la terza, intitolata "messaggi", contiene quanto da titolo: Le riflessioni dei bambini sono terribilmente adulte, a volte ciniche. Gli adulti si aggirano sullo sfondo, apparendo incuranti alle vicende dei figli che li guardano. Jan 11, Tom rated it really liked it Shelves: Sometimes a piece of art can sneak up on you.

There's a quote I like from Arthur Rubinstein, speaking of first hearing Sviatoslav Richter play the piano: Then at some point I noticed my eyes growing moist: The stories in it contain no big life-changing events, just ordinary everyday things, but then suddenly you realise that it's affecting you in strange ways and you don Sometimes a piece of art can sneak up on you. The stories in it contain no big life-changing events, just ordinary everyday things, but then suddenly you realise that it's affecting you in strange ways and you don't quite know why. The best part of the book, for me, was 'Messages', which is made up of scraps of very different messages from fans, friends, fanatics and manufacturers of sanitary towels.

A Winter Book

Somehow, by carefully arranging all of these scraps, and possibly by throwing some mystical author's pixie dust over the manuscript, she manages to make the words "Hi coming later warm the soup" seem to contain a whole lifetime of love and happiness. Or maybe that's just something I'm bringing to it. I'm always a sucker for a sudden focus on ordinary details and for, I suppose, a sort of anti-romantic romance. Anyway, whatever the reason, I loved this book. Sep 09, Ania rated it it was amazing. Curtains and draperies and endless rain going on and on, pattering, rustling, spattering on the roof, not like the challenge of sunshine that moves hour by hour through the room, over the window-ledge and the carpet, marking afternoon on the rocking-chair and finally vanishing on the chimney breast, red as an indictment.

Today's respectable and straightforward grey day, an anonymous day outside time; it "It was raining, with an even, calm rain that might continue idefinitely. Today's respectable and straightforward grey day, an anonymous day outside time; it doesnt' count. There is a similar distancing felt in Letters from Klara. This is as much as can be taken from this piece. Jansson then delivers a piece of unexpected art. It is, at first, difficult to grasp the idea of this piece, as seemingly banal as these messages begin. However, gradually, through careful selection and juxtaposition, there is a sort of world-weary nuance at play, and the whole is shot through at exactly the right positions with banal and beautiful counterpoints.

Dear Jansson san, I have collected money for a long time. I will come and sit at your feet to understand. Please when can I come there? Dear Jansson san, Take good care of yourself in this dangerous world. Please have a long life. The overall effect is quite stunning. We have been on a journey and we continue with the final two story offerings in this collection. However, the tale of the fictionalised Jansson we fall into the fictive flow with is unsettled some half-way through when the narrator transpires to be a Mr Melander.

At this point a certain degree of interest is lost because, in the context of the collection as a whole, this just does not fit.

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The collection ends with Taking Leave: It is a back-story nod towards the memories of place, times, objects, and leaving the island behind. The device feels somewhat clumsy though and Jansson then moves into her final symbolic ending: Jansson floats off, as does her kite. What A Winter Book does do is add to the character that is Tove Jansson, who we see in her childhood adventures and forming worldview and comprehensions of art and beauty and play, through her primary interactions with her artist parents, and in the affects on her by the occasional childhood friend, adult acquaintance rowing by, or oddity of adult such as Jeremiah the geologist or Annie the housekeeper rowing by her life in the analogy; A Winter Book also delivers the wisdoms of Jansson the elder, her world-weariness and resignations, and her coping strategies with the world that is so much bigger than she ever could deal with.

In the end, Jansson lost faith in the sea, became fearful of it, and she knew it was the beginning of the end. A Winter Book marks the book-ends of a long life in art and beauty, love and nature. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new comments via email. Notify me of new posts via email. She writes as the child narrator, in concluding the piece: The final two messages read: I brought the washing in, you can put the potatoes on at 6.

Someone called Anttiia phoned.