#thesummerbook

Yes, Tove Jansson, she of Finn Family Moomintroll fame.  When the Born Again English Major was very small, (when, in fact, she had not even become an English Major for the first time) she was given a boxed set of the Finn Family Moomintroll books.  They were strange and wonderful, with lovable heroes, terrible monsters, beautiful maidens, and hippopotamuses, or at least things that looked very much like hippopotamuses.  When she grew up, the EM was amazed to discover that there were some other people out there who had heard of the Moomintrolls.  She was also delighted to find that the author had written a few books for adults as well, one of which is The Summer Book.

This is also a strange little book, but there are no heroes or monsters or hippos.  It is a little collection of stories about the adventures of a girl and her father and grandmother during summers on an island in the Gulf of Finland. This summer world is fast disappearing, as neighboring islands are bought up by people who put up “No Trespassing” signs and decorate with fake anchors and buoys.  The neighbors themselves are courteous enough, though.  During a visit...

Malander came back with bottles and glasses and put them on the table. “Cognac,” he said. “And whiskey.  But I’m sure you’d rather have a lemonade.” “I’m very fond of cognac,” Grandmother said.  “A small glass, and no water, thank you. Sophia? What would you like?” “The other!” Sophia hissed in her ear. “Sophia would prefer a lemonade,” Grandmother said, and thought: We’ve got to teach her some manners.  We’ve made a mistake.  She has to spend more time with people she doesn’t like, before it’s too late.

  Some elements of this summer life might not be missed, like the ancient moldy bathrobe that is home to a family of mice, or the dirty dishes kept under the bed until they can be washed (one hopes) in the morning.  But some of the stories are enchanting, and although Sophia and Grandmother are both sort of prickly, their love for each other fills this book with sweetness.  There is a lovely story of a terrible storm that strikes when the family is out for a day of fishing on the outermost island in the Gulf.  They hunker down in a matter-of-fact way in an old abandoned cottage, and the grown-ups protect Sophia both from her guilt over wishing for this destructive storm and from the wind and waves themselves.  But the best story is about an unpleasant cat.  His name was Moppy.  Sophia loved him passionately but he was entirely indifferent to her. He refused to cuddle in her bed.  He brought dead songbirds to the door every day.  After he moves out of the house entirely, the family trades him for the cat of some friends.  The new cat was named Fluff.  She adored Sophia and slept in her arms.  She rolled in the sun and was not interested in storms. Sophia despised her. So cats were exchanged again.

“It’ll be awful,” said Sophia gravely. “But it’s Moppy I love.”