A Winter Book

Alone with the squirrel

There, in the presence of her inscrutable future husband, Ophelia slowly realizes that she is a pawn in a political game that will have far-reaching ramifications not only for her but for her entire world. The World of the Arks Long ago, following a cataclysm called the Rupture, the world was shattered into many floating celestial islands, now known as arks. Over each, the spirit of an omnipotent and immortal ancestor abides.

The inhabitants of these arks each possess a unique power. Ophelia, with her ability to read the pasts of objects, must navigate this fantastic, disjointed, perilous world using her trademark tenacity and quiet strength. An unforgettable heroine, a rich and bountiful universe, intrigue and suspense: I knew what bound me to it in the most sickening of ways, but the horror of that particular knowledge came later, much later. I go slowly, hugging the shore, into each creek and out round each headland; I mustn't miss anything out because it's a ritual. 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.

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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.

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.

I also appreciated 'Annie', as if exchanging reminiscences with the narrator about an experience few friends share.

A Winter Book by Tove Jansson - Moomin : Moomin

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.

Open Preview See a Problem? There are precious gems here, including the way the sea shines in moonlight. I read Jansson's 'The Summer Book' a couple of years ago and was enthralled by its spare prose and exquisite characterisations. Her partner leaves notes about popping out on errands. It's a funny story about accepting and embracing the notion of 'travelling light' the name of the penultimate story , and even about a sort of 'taking leave' the title of the last. Why can't we have a book of 'pieces'? 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.

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.

See a Problem?

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. 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.

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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. But although there is a melancholic note to this and many stories, this is also a book about living and joy.

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It confirmed to me just what a special talent Jansson was. Monipuolinen, ajaton, mutta liian sekava kokoelma. The body of work is like a succession of waves.

A Snowflake: A Winter Story

The stories span periods between and The reader must first accept the slow pace of the story offerings in this collection in order to begin the process of engagement whether having read previous Jansson offerings or not. She uses an economy of words which, for the most part, works well we are left to think ; however, perhaps a little more could have been offered in the economy of words that form some of the story titles: Fourteen of the twenty stories in A Winter Book are concerned with childhood.

She writes as the child narrator, in concluding the piece:. I go to bed and hear Daddy tuning his balalaika. Mummy lights the oil lamp. One can see out across all the roofs and over the harbour and gradually all the windows go dark except one. Added to this forming worldview, as written, are moments of understanding of childness, some succinct wisdoms extolled, and comprehension of the ir rational logic that children sometimes express. Albert is related as a childhood friend, and the story also touches on the child logic: When looking closely enough at the collection as a whole, we begin to see the way that nascent processes on death, as well as on love and beauty, art and play, begin to form.

In High Water , Jansson describes her father, a sculptor, and his love of- and inspiration gleaned from storms: They are of art. Perhaps this is also true of Jansson herself.

A Winter Book

Flotsam and Jetsam brings these ideas of worldview, seascape, art or beauty together. There is some degree of twisted correctness here in the tale, but there is the nuance that is with due concern to the process of art: The Dark , for example, is a messy stream of consciousness affair with no real focus apart from being the continued inculcated worldview of the child who believes her lot to be the way it is, perhaps the only way we can or should be.

German Measles is concerned with jealousy for a pet monkey and about having a guilty conscience. As such, the tale is very slight and without great depth.