Travelling Light
Tove Jansson
Language: English
Pages: 110
ISBN: 2:00239258
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
“The precariousness of travel is revealed in this unnerving new collection of stories.”
Introduced by Ali Smith
Translated for the first time from the Swedish by Silvester Mazzarella
Translated into English for the first time, Travelling Light takes us into new Tove Jansson territory.
A professor arrives in a beautiful Spanish village only to find that her host has left and she must cope with fractious neighbours alone; a holiday on a Finnish Island is thrown into disarray by an oddly intrusive child; an artist returns from abroad to discover that her past has been eerily usurped.
With the deceptively light prose that is her hallmark, Tove Jansson reveals to us the precariousness of a journey – the unease we feel at being placed outside of our millieu, the restlessness and shadows that intrude upon a summer.
of furniture, lamps, ornaments, draperies… It was much too warm. Stella took off her coat. The room was shrunken and frightening. As if trees had been cut and a thicket of undergrowth had taken their place. “But make yourself comfortable,” Wanda said. “What can I get you? Vermouth? Or wine? Like I used to serve in the old days, red wine and spaghetti! Always red wine and spaghetti! So you’ve finally come back. How many years has it been – no, we won’t count them. Anyway, now you’re here. And
freedom – and I was being a bit careless. He said: “You’re going to London? On business?” “No. Sea travel amuses me.” He nodded in appreciation. I could see his face in the mirror, a rather heavy face somewhat the worse for wear with a drooping moustache and tired eyes. He seemed elegant, expensively dressed, continental, if you know what I mean. “When I was young,” he said, “I worked out that it should be possible to travel by sea all the time, without stopping, meals included, for very
colony have been here much longer.” “The colony?” “Yes, the English colony. And a few Americans. It’s so cheap here.” “And so beautiful,” added Viktoria. “So peaceful; a real paradise!” Josephine laughed, screwing up her small face which made her look older. She pushed the dogs off her lap and emptied her glass. “They seem very attached to you,” Viktoria said. “Would you like a little more?” “Yes, thank you.” “A cigarette?” “Thanks, I’ve got my own.” Josephine said nothing for a long
“Soon.” It was then that they came in, three gentlemen of uncertain appearance. They looked somehow dishevelled – or, more accurately, stained or smudged. They certainly weren’t bohemians. They did have long hair, but in a more middle-aged way. They made a grand entrance, bowing low to Grandma and kissing her hand. She led them to an empty table at the far end near the window and made sure each got a glass of champagne. Pretty soon one of them dropped his glass on the floor. He was in a state
longing to shelter and protect, and so the clamour of the birds lost importance. The sun rose, drowning the whole room in strong pink and orange light. Outside the cottage it was quiet. I’ll learn to be calm, he thought. I’ll learn. * * * They drank their morning coffee. Suddenly there was tapping at the window. Elsa leaped up and exclaimed, “It’s Casimir! He’s back!” An enormous herring gull was pressed against the window pane. It looked impatient. “Is there any more coffee?” Arne said.