Moominvalley in November Book

What a weird little book!

This was my first visit to Moominvalley and apparently, I picked the wrong month . . . just like all of the characters in this book. They show up unannounced on the Moomin's doorstep, expecting solace and cheer, and instead they find emptiness and despair in a bleak, lonely house. The fact that the owners are gone doesn't stop the uninvited guests from making themselves at home, raiding the pantry and tracking mud into the house. And yet, life seems meaningless. They wander aimlessly through rooms while the relentless rain pounds outside. There is much hand-wringing and sighing.

This is the cover of my copy.



Just look at them! Six miserable characters in search of a purpose.

In Greg's excellent review, , he compares the book to a Bergman film, and he's right - this is terribly sad. There are no s'mores or campfire songs. No one suggests a game of Monopoly, and Cards Against Humanity hadn't been invented yet. In fact, if there was a love affair between elderly Grandpa-Grumble and the young, hot Mymble, this could be one of Woody Allen's later, unfunny films.

But all is not lost. The illustrations lovely and affecting.





And yet . . .

I realize that the Moomin books have been beloved by children and their parents for decades, but I'm having trouble picturing freshly bathed and pajama-clad tots sitting enthralled while Granny reads this passage:

In the long, vague dawn as the November night changed to morning, the fog moved in from the sea. It rolled up the hillsides and slid down into the valleys on the other side and filled every corner of them.
The fog had brought complete silence with it and the valley was quite motionless.

Then she gave them castor oil, whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed.

Perhaps I'll visit Moominvalley again sometime. Maybe in May or July.

And I'll call first to make sure they're going to be home.