My first Finnish-language book in years, and what a banger to start with!! Reading this in snowy Helsinki and visiting Tove’s childhood street and looking up at the studio she describes so beautifully and staring at the same harbour she skated on, made this reading experience even more special.
I’m totally enthralled with these slowly unfurling vignettes of Tove’s Helsinki childhood with her bohemian parents, living in an airy art studio home by the harbour. The parties hosted by her father, with loud drinking and cigarette smoke curling into Tove’s sleeping space and the stories her mother tells in front of the fire are so perfectly written, I can almost smell the smoke and feel my eyelids droop.
This series of vignettes is Tove’s first “novel for adults” and it very much sets the tone for her imaginative and philosophical prose. In precise yet engaging writing, she tells us stories of her childhood in Helsinki, living in her sculptor father’s studio.
I enjoyed visiting Luotsikatu 4, Tove Jansson’s childhood address on a freezing cold night, plus I took some pics down by the water and the harbour just round the corner (pictures below).
The book talks about skating on the ice on the harbour, the deep blackness of the cold sea, the lanterns twinkling at night, the men playing music for the skaters, and that delicious feeling of fear and safety Tove felt whilst skating on the ice on top of the frozen water, imagining the circle of skaters detaching itself from the surrounding ice, floating out into the deep black sea.
There’s so many memorable episodes, such as the ice skating on the frozen sea, the drinking parties where the tobacco smoke snakes up to her bed, the games she plays with friends, the interactions she has with the household maid, the way a Christmas tree makes her feel, the way she feels in front of the fire with her mother…. There’s a very childlike balance between cosy safety and fear, and you feel part of the safety net of this bohemian family.
It’s a lovely exploration of her parents – you see two people who are flawed yet also loved by Tove. It’s not a sugarcoated or saccharine exploration of childhood, but like other work by Tove, incredibly bittersweet in a truly honest way.
One word: magical.
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