The Moomins

I went to a fantastic discussion/lecture/readings evening about Tove Jansson tonight and it got me thinking about why the Moomins mean so much to me. I haven't ever read any of Jansson's other work (though I intend to after listening to people talking about it) but I don't feel that just reading the Moomins is selling her short. (I also didn't know when I agreed to go along but Samuel West was there and did a reading from a short story. I managed not to be too much of a fangirl!)

My experience of the Moomins is tied up very heavily with my father. My mum never really liked the Moomins books because they unnerved her. At the time I didn't understand, but I do now. The Moomins books are one of those wonderful experiences that delight children and terrify adults. The best children's writers understand that the boundary between enchantment and fear is easily crossed. My dad read me the books before bed and he helped me cast a sculpture of Moomintroll holding the magic hat (sadly lost, as far as I know - I certainly couldn't find it when I cleared out my father's flat). He particularly liked 'Comet in Moominland' because he was an astronomer whereas I love 'Moominsummer Madness' because I loved drama.

However, I've found that as I've got older my relationship with the books had changed. I love the adventurous parts of them, the pearl diving and exploring, but I've also found that parts of them are depressing in ways I didn't understand before. Fillyjonk in 'Moominvalley in November' is a character I can hardly bear to read about, though I know her story ultimately has a happy ending. The concept of filling your time with people to try and stop the bad thoughts is resonant. I don't think I ever truly forgave Jansson for never giving the Groke her happy ending. Her story was almost too sad for me to cope with and it never gets better. An uncompromising touch of realism in a children's book.

They are still full of wonder and joy, however, with plenty of adventures. I can still lose myself in Jansson's world, as proved by how much I enjoyed listening to the readings at the event. However, even so, I found it painful to read about how much Snufkin missed the sea. Samuel West talked about the beautiful melancholy of Keats and the Moomins and I knew exactly what he was talking about but I'd never realised that was why I loved both so much but also had such a complicated relationship with them.