Tales from Moominvalley

By Tove Jansson and Thomas Warburton

Here are nine delightfully funny stories about the triumphs and tribulations of the citizens of Moominvalley. Readers will discover how the Moomin family save young Ninny from permanent invisibility, and what happens when Moomintroll catches the last dragon in the world. Some of the characters in these tales will be brand-new to Moomin fans, but there are lots of old friends to meet as well.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Sep 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781466871656

Tove Jansson

Tove Jansson (1914 - 2001) was born in Helsinki to artist parents. She was to become a celebrated artist, political cartoonist and author, but she is best known as the creator of the Moomins, one of the most successful and beloved children's book series ever written. Inspired by summers spent on the islands off Finland and Sweden, Tove created the unique world of Moominvalley and all its inhabitants. The Moomins and The Great Flood, her first book to feature the Moomins, published in 1945. Tove went on to publish twelve Moomin books between 1945 and 1977, which have sold in their millions and been translated into over forty languages. In the 1950's the Moomins became a successful cartoon strip, which was to feature in newspapers all over the world. As the Moomins' fame grew, they began to appear in television series, plays, films and a varied merchandise program soon followed. Tove also painted throughout her life and wrote novels and short stories, including the acclaimed Summer Book. But the Moomin world was never far away. As Tove said, "You feel a cold wind on your legs when you step outside Moomin Valley," In 1966, Tove received the Hans Christian Andersen Award for her lasting contribution to children's literature.

Book preview

The Spring Tune

One calm and cloudless evening, toward the end of April, Snufkin found himself far enough to the north to see still-unmelted patches of snow on the northern slopes.

He had been walking all day through undisturbed landscapes, listening to the cries of the birds also on their way northward, home from the South.

Walking had been easy, because his knapsack was nearly empty and he had no worries on his mind. He felt happy about the wood and the weather, and himself. Tomorrow and yesterday were both at a distance, and just at present the sun was shining brightly red between the birches, and the air was cool and soft.

It’s the right evening for a tune, Snufkin thought. A new tune, one part expectation, two parts spring sadness, and for the rest just the great delight of walking alone and liking it.

He had kept this tune under his hat for several days, but hadn’t quite dared to take it out yet. It had to grow into a kind of happy conviction. Then he would simply have to put his lips to the mouth-organ, and all the notes would jump instantly into their places.

If he released them too soon, they might get stuck crossways and make only a half-good tune, or he might lose them altogether and never be in the right mood to get hold of them again. Tunes are serious things, especially if they have to be jolly and sad at the same time.

But this evening Snufkin felt rather sure of his tune. It was there, waiting, nearly full-grown—and it was going to be the best he ever made.

Then, when he arrived in Moominvalley, he’d sit on the bridge rail and play it, and Moomintroll would say at once: That’s a good one. Really a good one.

Snufkin stopped in his tracks, feeling just a little bit uneasy. Yes, Moomintroll, always waiting and longing. Moomintroll, who sat at home, who waited for him and admired him, and who always told him: Of course you have to feel free. Naturally you must go away. I do understand that you have to be alone at times.

And all the while his eyes were black with disappointment and no one could help it.

Oh, my, oh, my, Snufkin said to himself and continued on his way.

Oh, my, oh, my. He’s got such a lot of feelings, this Moomintroll. I won’t think of him now. He’s a splendid Moomin, but I don’t have to think of him now. Tonight I’m alone with my tune, and tonight isn’t tomorrow.

In a little while Snufkin had managed to forget all about Moomintroll. He was sniffing around for a good place to camp in, and when he heard a brook a bit farther on in the wood he went toward the sound.

The last red ray of sunlight had vanished between the birches. Now came the spring twilight, slow and blue. All the wood was changed, and the white pillars of the birches went wandering farther and farther off in the blue dusk.

The brook was a good one.

It went rushing clear and brown over wads of last year’s leaves, through small tunnels of leftover ice, swerving through the green moss and throwing itself headlong down in a small waterfall on to a white-sand bottom. In places it droned sharp as a mosquito, then it tried to sound great and menacing, stopped, gurgled with a mouthful of melted snow, and laughed at it all.

Snufkin stood listening in the damp moss. I must have the brook in my tune also, he thought. In the refrain, I think.

A small stone suddenly came loose near the waterfall and raised the pitch of the brook a whole octave.

Not bad, Snufkin said admiringly. That’s the way to do it. A sudden change, just in passing. I’ll have to find that brook a tune of its own.

He took out his old saucepan and filled it from the waterfall. Then he went in under the firs to look for firewood. The ground was still wet from the spring thaw and the rains, and Snufkin had to crawl far under a brambly windfall to find any dry sticks. When he reached out, someone gave a sudden shout and flashed past him and off among the firs, still crying and squeaking all the way.

Oh, yes, Snufkin said. Creeps and woodies everywhere. Funny how nervous they always seem to be. The smaller the jumpier.

He found a dried stump and some sticks and built himself a good campfire by the brook. Snufkin was used to cooking his own dinner. He never cooked a dinner for other people if he could avoid it, nor did he care much for other people’s dinners. So many people insisted on talking when they had a meal.

Also they had a great liking for chairs and tables, and some of them used napkins. He even had heard of a Hemulen who changed his clothes everytime he was about to eat, but that was probably slander.

A little distractedly, Snufkin ate his meager soup while he rested his eyes on the green moss by the birches.

The tune was quite near at hand, easy to catch by the tail. But there was time enough to wait: it was hedged in and couldn’t get away. No, better to wash the dishes first, then light a pipe—and afterwards, when the campfire was burning down and the night creatures started calling for each other, then he’d have it.

Snufkin was washing his saucepan in the brook when he caught sight of the Creep. It was sitting on the far side below a tree root, looking at him. Its eyes were scared but very interested, following Snufkin’s every movement.

Two shy eyes under a mop of hair. Just the look people have who are never noticed.

Snufkin pretended that he hadn’t seen the Creep. He raked up his fire and cut himself some fir twigs to sit on. He took out his pipe and lit it. He puffed a few clouds of smoke toward the night sky and waited for the spring

Reviews for Tales from Moominvalley

[greeniezona · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I don't know why the title is wrong on this one and why there is no picture. But this is one of my favorite books ever. Recently read aloud to Solomon for bedtime story.

[texvelis · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Loved this book. Will be reading more Moomin books in the future. These stories were sad and sweet .

[AlejandraSaavedraHorita · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I discovered I wasn’t so much of a fan of individual stories, save the ones about Snufkin and Ninny. Still, a pleasant read if you’re into those things.

[kslade-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Great little book of fantasy stories with odd characters. They all are somewhat humorous or quirky, but make you think about serious things.

[doryfish-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Fillyjonk who Believed in Disasters is the story of my life.

[melydia_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A collection of short stories about our favorite Moomins and the other creatures who inhabit their world. I liked hearing about the fillyjonk, the hemulen, and other such critters, but my favorites were about the last dragon (I heart Snufkin!) and Moominpappa’s journey with the Hattifatteners. The latter was particularly satisfying, as it’s referenced in many of the other Moomin books. As with all things Moomin, I am a terrible reviewer because I just love them so much. The characters, for all their flaws and foibles, are absolutely charming. I can never seem to get enough Moomin.

[adzebill · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Just gorgeous; stories for kids that have at their heart deep metaphorical resonance for adults.

[hbsweet · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Delightful.Enchanting.I wish I had met the Moomins, the Hemulens, the Fillyjonks and the Mymbles when I was nine. Of course, when I’m reading these stories, I *am* nine again, lost in wonder and completely engrossed.From the very beginning, where Snufkin’s fledgling tune (“one part expectation, two parts spring sadness, and for the rest just the great delight of walking alone and liking it”) is disrupted by the nameless Creep (“Two shy eyes under a mop of hair. Just the look people have who are never noticed.”) to the end, where the Moomin family is awakened from their hibernation to be told Christmas is coming—as if it’s a dire emergency—and they try to prepare themselves with the sketchy information they glean from their frantic neighbors (“At home, Moominmamma had dug out the verandah with a shovel and laid out life belts, aspirin, Moominpappa’s old gun, and some warm compresses. One had to be prepared.”), I was utterly captivated by these charming little stories.Of all the places, real and imaginary I would like to go someday (Narnia and Green Gables, Elvinwood and Neverland), Moominvalley has moved to the top of the list.

[jmattas_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a collection of nine short stories -- a direct translation of the original title would be "The Invisible Kid and Other Stories".These stories are just great, Tove Jansson is a literary genius and a philosopher. There are deep thoughts hidden in every tale, and the topics cover a wide range. They're clear, fantastic, humorous. I could relate strongly to the "Hemulen who loved silence" -- I just had to wonder how Jansson could know how I have sometimes felt -- and of course to Moominpappa who discovers the conflict between the romatization and the reality of adventuring.

[lisalouhoo · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Love, love, loved this book. It is one of those books that you read and wonder how on earth you had missed it for all the previous years of your life. I felt like my very soul was being analyzed and explained; makes me wonder if the author happens to be a psychiatrist in her spare time. Beautiful, hilarious, heartwarming insight into human nature. I think it would be much more appreciated by adults, but I'm sure that children would also enjoy these stories. This was the first book by the author that I was able to get ahold of, and I will definitely be gathering all of the others.

[japag_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Näkymätön Lapsi (Tales from Moominvalley) is a short story collection by Finland's greatest children's writer Tove Jansson.In this collection she once again shows what a remarkable storyteller she is. Every small story describes one emotion with an eloquence that is rarely matched by authors of children's or adults' books. Jansson's Moomin books are not just for children, and Tales from Moominvalley is one of the best short story collections available, for adults and children.