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lizawall's review against another edition
5.0
Ok, I actually had to return this to the library before I finished it, but I still love the shit out of Tove Jansson. I think it is indicative of something wrong with my modern lifestyle that I have a hard time finding the stillness and quiet to read her books properly.
grey_reads's review against another edition
This is great but slow and going back the the library for now.
micahhortonhallett's review against another edition
5.0
Tove Janssen is such a beautiful and concise author. The stories here are so small they border on microfictions at times, but each is a world bathed in light, mystery and the impossibility of human contact, (even as we are compelled as a species to continually reach out toward the other). Perfect forced isolation literature.
kirstendumo's review against another edition
3.0
Well if the dates here are right it took me three years to finish this book so that should say something.
juliana_aldous's review against another edition
5.0
The Woman Who Borrowed Memories is a collection of short stories by wonderful Finnish author and illustrator Tove Jannson spanning from 1971-1998. Jansson died in 2001 but over the course of her career, she wrote short stories, six novels, and articles, and also worked as an illustrator and graphic artist. She is best known for her Moomin children's books published in the 1940s and later turned into a beloved set of cartoons. She won the Hans Christian Anderson medal and was included in The Will Eisner Hall of Fame.
I first encountered Jannson when I read The Summer Book which kept popping up as a recommendation by fellow NYRB fans. I took that one on vacation on a beach, and to be reading a sweet simple story about a grandmother and granddaughter spending the summer at a shoreline cabin was a french kiss for my weekend away. I later followed that up with Fair Play her semi-autobiographical collection of vignettes about two senior artists living and traveling together. That book was a marvelous look at how we work, play, squabble, and love. That book was perfect for reading in the time of Covid as our quarters and families closed around us.
The Woman Who Borrowed Memories with an introduction by Lauren Groff is a collection of many stories, collected from other sources and with a number of translators. One of my favorite themes in this and all her books is Art as work. I've taught from Julia Cameron's The Artist Way and know a thing or two about the process of becoming an Artist. Jansson's work is about being an Artist in all its day-to-day activities. (Of course, Jansson was not only an artist but so were her parents).
One story, The Cartoonist, is about a young artist named Stein who takes over a beloved cartoon from an artist, Allington, who has retired. In this story, which was translated by Thomas Teal, Jansson cleverly reveals her process through the editor, "'You have to remember,' Fried said, 'you have to keep in mind the whole time that the tension has to mount. You've got a strip of three or four panels, five if absolutely necessary, but four's better. Okay. In the first one, you resolve the tension from the previous day. Catharsis, relief, the drama continues. You build up new tension in the second panel, increase it in panel three, and so on. I've explained that. You're good, but you get lost in the details, commentary, embroidery that gets in the way of the red thread. It has to be a straight line, simple and moves toward a peak, a climax, you see?'"
Stein goes about his daily work learning his role and wonders about the previous cartoonist, Allington as the office still retains both his essence and his sweaters. "It was a cartoonist who had worked here, and the sweater was his. Stein was curious and opened a drawer. It contained a mix of pencil stumps, tape, empty ink bottles, paper clips, all the usual junk. But maybe worse than usual. All of it had been stirred together as if in a rage. He opened the next drawer. It was empty,... It could have been Allington who'd had this room. Maybe he never worked at home, maybe he sat right here for twenty years and drew his Blubby." Stein is told repeatedly to do the work but to also take the Art and do "something of your own, but preferably no one will see the break."
How does one take over another's creative work and make it their own and why did Allington quit? Stein eventually decides to track down Allington even though no one in the office knows his whereabouts. He succeeds and visits Allington in a hotel in the suburbs and Allington is described as a "perfectly ordinary man, one of the invisible people on a bus." They meet and talk about the work. It ends with Allington offering to help Stein out, "I just thought," Allington said, "I just happened to think that, if you get stuck, I might be able to do a couple of strips. Sometime. If you'd like..." Ah, can an Artist really retire?
There are all kinds of stories in here and I love the glimpses of the Artist life and Scandinavian Summer Beach life. The cover even has a delightful photo of Jansson swimming in front of her cabin. Squirrel, also translated by Teal, is about the ups and downs of living in close quarters with wildlife. Another moment I'm sure we can all recognize from times of Covid. Maybe Scandanavians are built for isolation but Jansson is also good at showing the joys of the quiet life.
In the Artist's Way, Julia Cameron states, "The point of the work is the work." But there is also an emphasis on play. I can't help but feel a sense of joyful play when I read Jansson's work. I would recommend starting with one of her novels and then progressing to her short stories and then before you know it, Moomin books and then a Moomin coffee mug.
I first encountered Jannson when I read The Summer Book which kept popping up as a recommendation by fellow NYRB fans. I took that one on vacation on a beach, and to be reading a sweet simple story about a grandmother and granddaughter spending the summer at a shoreline cabin was a french kiss for my weekend away. I later followed that up with Fair Play her semi-autobiographical collection of vignettes about two senior artists living and traveling together. That book was a marvelous look at how we work, play, squabble, and love. That book was perfect for reading in the time of Covid as our quarters and families closed around us.
The Woman Who Borrowed Memories with an introduction by Lauren Groff is a collection of many stories, collected from other sources and with a number of translators. One of my favorite themes in this and all her books is Art as work. I've taught from Julia Cameron's The Artist Way and know a thing or two about the process of becoming an Artist. Jansson's work is about being an Artist in all its day-to-day activities. (Of course, Jansson was not only an artist but so were her parents).
One story, The Cartoonist, is about a young artist named Stein who takes over a beloved cartoon from an artist, Allington, who has retired. In this story, which was translated by Thomas Teal, Jansson cleverly reveals her process through the editor, "'You have to remember,' Fried said, 'you have to keep in mind the whole time that the tension has to mount. You've got a strip of three or four panels, five if absolutely necessary, but four's better. Okay. In the first one, you resolve the tension from the previous day. Catharsis, relief, the drama continues. You build up new tension in the second panel, increase it in panel three, and so on. I've explained that. You're good, but you get lost in the details, commentary, embroidery that gets in the way of the red thread. It has to be a straight line, simple and moves toward a peak, a climax, you see?'"
Stein goes about his daily work learning his role and wonders about the previous cartoonist, Allington as the office still retains both his essence and his sweaters. "It was a cartoonist who had worked here, and the sweater was his. Stein was curious and opened a drawer. It contained a mix of pencil stumps, tape, empty ink bottles, paper clips, all the usual junk. But maybe worse than usual. All of it had been stirred together as if in a rage. He opened the next drawer. It was empty,... It could have been Allington who'd had this room. Maybe he never worked at home, maybe he sat right here for twenty years and drew his Blubby." Stein is told repeatedly to do the work but to also take the Art and do "something of your own, but preferably no one will see the break."
How does one take over another's creative work and make it their own and why did Allington quit? Stein eventually decides to track down Allington even though no one in the office knows his whereabouts. He succeeds and visits Allington in a hotel in the suburbs and Allington is described as a "perfectly ordinary man, one of the invisible people on a bus." They meet and talk about the work. It ends with Allington offering to help Stein out, "I just thought," Allington said, "I just happened to think that, if you get stuck, I might be able to do a couple of strips. Sometime. If you'd like..." Ah, can an Artist really retire?
There are all kinds of stories in here and I love the glimpses of the Artist life and Scandinavian Summer Beach life. The cover even has a delightful photo of Jansson swimming in front of her cabin. Squirrel, also translated by Teal, is about the ups and downs of living in close quarters with wildlife. Another moment I'm sure we can all recognize from times of Covid. Maybe Scandanavians are built for isolation but Jansson is also good at showing the joys of the quiet life.
In the Artist's Way, Julia Cameron states, "The point of the work is the work." But there is also an emphasis on play. I can't help but feel a sense of joyful play when I read Jansson's work. I would recommend starting with one of her novels and then progressing to her short stories and then before you know it, Moomin books and then a Moomin coffee mug.
violetrb's review against another edition
4.0
Some were very well done, others I couldn’t bother with. Glad to have discovered a new author and hopefully The Summer Book will be a great hit.