moominmuppet (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moominmuppet) wrote2012-04-03 06:45 pm
moominmuppet) wrote2012-04-03 06:45 pm
Entry tags:
Ronia, The Robber's Daughter
I am so totally in love with this book.
I went in with high expectations since it's written by all-around awesome human being Astrid Lindgren, creator of my childhood hero Pippi Longstocking (that's Pippi in my icon; it was the best I could do with finding an image of her when I was icon-making).
Expectations exceeded.
The best way to show what I loved is with excerpts (in fact, I've read these same excerpts to every friend, family member, and coworker who'll stand still long enough):
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
On Ronia's birth:
"That robber baby had better come soon," he said. "I'm old and rickety, and my robbing days will soon be over. It would be fine to see a new robber chief here before I'm finished."
He had scarely stopped speaking when the door opened and Matt rushed in, quite witless with delight. He raced all the way around the hall, leaping high with joy and shrieking like a madman.
"I've got a child! Do you hear me -- I've got a child!"
"What sort of child is it?" asked Noddle-Pete over in his corner.
"A robber's daughter, joy and gladness!" shouted Matt. "A robber's daughter -- here she comes!"
And over the high threshold stepped Lovis with her baby in her arms. All the robbers' noise turned off at once.
"I do believe that's made your beer go down the wrong way," said Matt. He took the baby girl from Lovis and carried her around among the robbers.
"Here! Want to see the most beautiful child ever born in a robbers' fort?"
His daughter lay there in his arms, looking up at him with wide, bright eyes.
"That child understands just about everything already -- you can see that," said Matt.
"What will you call her?" asked Noddle-Pete.
"Ronia," said Lovis. "I decided that a long time ago."
"What if it had been a boy?" said Noddle-Pete.
Lovis gave him a calm, stern look. "If I decide my baby is to be called Ronia, it will be a Ronia!"
Then she turned to Matt. "Shall I take now?"
But Matt did not want to hand over his daughter. He stood there gazing in admiration at her clear eyes, her little mouth, her black tufts of hair, her helpless hands, and he trembled with love.
"You, baby, you're already holding my robber heart in those little hands," he said. "I don't understand it, but that's how it is."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
And as she gets a bit older:
...and life in Matt's Fort went on exactly as before -- except that now there was a child there. A little child, who succeeded bit by bit in sending Matt and all his robbers more or less mad, in Lovis' view. Not that it hurt them to become a little gentler-handed and milder-mannered, but there should be moderation in all things. And it really was strange to see twelve robbers and one robber chieftain sitting there like a lot of sheep, beaming and blissful just because a small child had learned to crawl around the stone hall, as if there had never been a greater miracle on earth. It was true that Ronia scampered about unusually fast because she had a trick of pushing off with her left foot, which the robbers through absolutely astounding. But, after all, most children do learn to crawl, as Lovis said, without loud cheers, and without their father seeing it as a reason to forget everything else and positively neglect his work.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
When Lovis and Matt decide she's old enough to explore the mountain: (I love the absolute lack of helicopter parenting in this book!)
"Lovis," he said to his wife, "our child must learn what it's like living in Matt's Forest. Let her go!"
"Ah, so you've seen it at last," said Lovis. "It would have happened a long time ago if I'd had my way."
And from then on Ronia was free to wander at will. But first Matt had one or two things to say to her.
"Watch out for wild harpies and gray dwarfs, and Borka robbers," he said.
"How will I know which are wild harpies and gray dwarfs and Borka robbers?" asked Ronia.
"You'll find out," Matt said.
"All right," said Ronia.
"And watch out you don't get lost in the forest," said Matt.
"What shall I do if I get lost in the forest?" Ronia asked.
"Find the right path," Matt said.
"All right," said Ronia.
"And watch out you don't fall in the river," Matt said.
"What shall I do if I fall in the river?" Ronia asked.
"Swim," Matt said.
"All right," said Ronia.
"And watch out you don't tumble into Hell's Gap," Matt said.
"What shall I do if I tumble into Hell's Gap?" Ronia asked.
"You won't be doing anything else," Matt said, and then he gave a bellow, as if all things evil had suddenly pierced his heart.
"All right," said Ronia when Matt had finished bellowing. "I shan't fall into Hell's Gap. Is there anything else?"
"There certainly is," said Matt. "But you'll find out bit by bit. Go now!"
So Ronia went. She soon realized how stupid she had been: how could she have thought that the great stone hall was the whole world? Not even the huge Matt's Fort was the whole world. Not even the high Matt's Mountain was the whole world -- no, the world was bigger than Matt. It was so big that it took your breath away. Of course, she had heard Matt and Lovis talking about things beyond Matt's Fort; they had talked of the river. But it was not until she could see how it came rushing in wild rapids from deep under Matt's Mountain that she understood what rivers were. They had talked about the forest. But it was not until she saw it, so dark and mysterious, with all its rustling trees, that she understood what forests were, and she laughed silently because rivers and forests were there. She could scarcely believe it.
She followed the path straight into the wildest woods and came to the lake. Matt had told her that she must not go farther than that. And the lake lay there, black among the dark pines. Only the water lilies floating on its surface gleamed white. Ronia did not know that they were water lilies, but she looked at them for a long time and laughed silently because water lilies were there.
She stayed by the lake all day and did many things there that she had never tried before. She threw pinecones into the water and tried to see if she could make them bob away just by splashing with her feet. She had never had so much fun before. Her feet felt so glad and free when she made them splash, and gladder still when she made them climb. There were great mossy boulders around the pool to climb on, and pine trees and fir trees to clamber in. Ronia climbed and clambered until the sun began to sing behind the wooded ridges. Then she ate the bread and drank the milk she had brought with her. She lay down on the moss to rest for a while, and the trees rustled high above her head. She lay there watching them and laughed silently because they were there. Then she fell asleep.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
*love* The nature imagery. Oh yes. The joy in the world, and the exploring of it. Everything about how Ronia's written is exactly the kind of encouragement for strong exploratory girls that I crave finding in stories. And I absolutely adore finding a book that's so much about the relationship between a father and his daughter, but not at all princessy or infantilizing. I see elements of my own relationship with my Dad in it; I was always close with him, but he was/is so good about giving me space to grow and not overprotecting me or doing the "Daddy's little girl" thing. I really appreciate seeing loving parents portrayed like Matt and Lovis, giving their child space to grow and learn and make mistakes (and really, the parent/child relationships throughout the book are a lot of what I love about it). Additionally, the ethics of robbery as a way of life aren't skipped over (which I'd rather expected they would be), but addressed really quite well, with a satisfying conclusion.
And for a certain specific Dad, I'd like to point out that this has a lot of the feel of My Side of the Mountain once she decides to go out on her own.
I went in with high expectations since it's written by all-around awesome human being Astrid Lindgren, creator of my childhood hero Pippi Longstocking (that's Pippi in my icon; it was the best I could do with finding an image of her when I was icon-making).
Expectations exceeded.
The best way to show what I loved is with excerpts (in fact, I've read these same excerpts to every friend, family member, and coworker who'll stand still long enough):
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
On Ronia's birth:
"That robber baby had better come soon," he said. "I'm old and rickety, and my robbing days will soon be over. It would be fine to see a new robber chief here before I'm finished."
He had scarely stopped speaking when the door opened and Matt rushed in, quite witless with delight. He raced all the way around the hall, leaping high with joy and shrieking like a madman.
"I've got a child! Do you hear me -- I've got a child!"
"What sort of child is it?" asked Noddle-Pete over in his corner.
"A robber's daughter, joy and gladness!" shouted Matt. "A robber's daughter -- here she comes!"
And over the high threshold stepped Lovis with her baby in her arms. All the robbers' noise turned off at once.
"I do believe that's made your beer go down the wrong way," said Matt. He took the baby girl from Lovis and carried her around among the robbers.
"Here! Want to see the most beautiful child ever born in a robbers' fort?"
His daughter lay there in his arms, looking up at him with wide, bright eyes.
"That child understands just about everything already -- you can see that," said Matt.
"What will you call her?" asked Noddle-Pete.
"Ronia," said Lovis. "I decided that a long time ago."
"What if it had been a boy?" said Noddle-Pete.
Lovis gave him a calm, stern look. "If I decide my baby is to be called Ronia, it will be a Ronia!"
Then she turned to Matt. "Shall I take now?"
But Matt did not want to hand over his daughter. He stood there gazing in admiration at her clear eyes, her little mouth, her black tufts of hair, her helpless hands, and he trembled with love.
"You, baby, you're already holding my robber heart in those little hands," he said. "I don't understand it, but that's how it is."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
And as she gets a bit older:
...and life in Matt's Fort went on exactly as before -- except that now there was a child there. A little child, who succeeded bit by bit in sending Matt and all his robbers more or less mad, in Lovis' view. Not that it hurt them to become a little gentler-handed and milder-mannered, but there should be moderation in all things. And it really was strange to see twelve robbers and one robber chieftain sitting there like a lot of sheep, beaming and blissful just because a small child had learned to crawl around the stone hall, as if there had never been a greater miracle on earth. It was true that Ronia scampered about unusually fast because she had a trick of pushing off with her left foot, which the robbers through absolutely astounding. But, after all, most children do learn to crawl, as Lovis said, without loud cheers, and without their father seeing it as a reason to forget everything else and positively neglect his work.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
When Lovis and Matt decide she's old enough to explore the mountain: (I love the absolute lack of helicopter parenting in this book!)
"Lovis," he said to his wife, "our child must learn what it's like living in Matt's Forest. Let her go!"
"Ah, so you've seen it at last," said Lovis. "It would have happened a long time ago if I'd had my way."
And from then on Ronia was free to wander at will. But first Matt had one or two things to say to her.
"Watch out for wild harpies and gray dwarfs, and Borka robbers," he said.
"How will I know which are wild harpies and gray dwarfs and Borka robbers?" asked Ronia.
"You'll find out," Matt said.
"All right," said Ronia.
"And watch out you don't get lost in the forest," said Matt.
"What shall I do if I get lost in the forest?" Ronia asked.
"Find the right path," Matt said.
"All right," said Ronia.
"And watch out you don't fall in the river," Matt said.
"What shall I do if I fall in the river?" Ronia asked.
"Swim," Matt said.
"All right," said Ronia.
"And watch out you don't tumble into Hell's Gap," Matt said.
"What shall I do if I tumble into Hell's Gap?" Ronia asked.
"You won't be doing anything else," Matt said, and then he gave a bellow, as if all things evil had suddenly pierced his heart.
"All right," said Ronia when Matt had finished bellowing. "I shan't fall into Hell's Gap. Is there anything else?"
"There certainly is," said Matt. "But you'll find out bit by bit. Go now!"
So Ronia went. She soon realized how stupid she had been: how could she have thought that the great stone hall was the whole world? Not even the huge Matt's Fort was the whole world. Not even the high Matt's Mountain was the whole world -- no, the world was bigger than Matt. It was so big that it took your breath away. Of course, she had heard Matt and Lovis talking about things beyond Matt's Fort; they had talked of the river. But it was not until she could see how it came rushing in wild rapids from deep under Matt's Mountain that she understood what rivers were. They had talked about the forest. But it was not until she saw it, so dark and mysterious, with all its rustling trees, that she understood what forests were, and she laughed silently because rivers and forests were there. She could scarcely believe it.
She followed the path straight into the wildest woods and came to the lake. Matt had told her that she must not go farther than that. And the lake lay there, black among the dark pines. Only the water lilies floating on its surface gleamed white. Ronia did not know that they were water lilies, but she looked at them for a long time and laughed silently because water lilies were there.
She stayed by the lake all day and did many things there that she had never tried before. She threw pinecones into the water and tried to see if she could make them bob away just by splashing with her feet. She had never had so much fun before. Her feet felt so glad and free when she made them splash, and gladder still when she made them climb. There were great mossy boulders around the pool to climb on, and pine trees and fir trees to clamber in. Ronia climbed and clambered until the sun began to sing behind the wooded ridges. Then she ate the bread and drank the milk she had brought with her. She lay down on the moss to rest for a while, and the trees rustled high above her head. She lay there watching them and laughed silently because they were there. Then she fell asleep.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
*love* The nature imagery. Oh yes. The joy in the world, and the exploring of it. Everything about how Ronia's written is exactly the kind of encouragement for strong exploratory girls that I crave finding in stories. And I absolutely adore finding a book that's so much about the relationship between a father and his daughter, but not at all princessy or infantilizing. I see elements of my own relationship with my Dad in it; I was always close with him, but he was/is so good about giving me space to grow and not overprotecting me or doing the "Daddy's little girl" thing. I really appreciate seeing loving parents portrayed like Matt and Lovis, giving their child space to grow and learn and make mistakes (and really, the parent/child relationships throughout the book are a lot of what I love about it). Additionally, the ethics of robbery as a way of life aren't skipped over (which I'd rather expected they would be), but addressed really quite well, with a satisfying conclusion.
And for a certain specific Dad, I'd like to point out that this has a lot of the feel of My Side of the Mountain once she decides to go out on her own.