The happiest place in the world

Astrid Lindgren

Think of the happiest time in your life and try to remember what you were doing at that time or where you were. Now imagine that you have thirty or forty people with you and they all feel the same as you. You’re all singing and dancing and having a great time and there’s a show going on that’s entertaining and funny – even if you don’t understand the language.  If this is happening in your imagination, you might just be at Junibacken in Stockholm. A recent trip to this haven of European children’s fiction is the topic of this week’s blog, along with the beloved children’s writer Astrid Lindgren.

Statue of Lindgren outside of Junibacken

In 1907 on the 14^th of November, in Vimmerby Sweden, the life of Astrid Anna Emilia Ericsson began.  She grew up in nearby Nas and many of her books are based on childhood memories and her own family. When Astrid finished school, she started working for the local newspaper.  She worked as a secretary and a journalist before becoming a full time author. Along the way she married her boss and had two children as well (just thought I’d add that because her name changed and you might have wondered how or why??)

In 1944, Lindgren won second prize in a competition for a story she had written, a year later she won first prize in the same competition with her book Pippi Langstrump, or as I know it, Pippi Longstocking.  This story has been translated into 60 languages making her the 18^th most translated author on the planet.

The display of her work for sale in the Junibacken book shop

Throughout her career, Astrid Lindgren won many awards for writing including the prestigious Hans Christian Andersen award in 1958, but the awards don’t just include her storytelling achievements. Astrid received the Right to Livelihood award in 1997 as she was all for children’s and animal rights and opposed corporal punishment. Her work was so renowned, that she even had a minor planet named after her which was discovered in 1978.

When I visited Stockholm and Junibacken, I did have intentions of perhaps taking a trip to Vimmerby to visit Astrid’s Wellspring and the museum, but Stockholm being Stockholm, I kind of ran out of time.  Please also note that on this particular blogspedition I was accompanied by my eldest son Brendan – my gift to him for a few years of neglect on my part.  So the holiday wasn’t just for me. Brendan enjoyed Junibacken and a quick look at Villa Villekulla which included singing and dancing and even though the performance was in Swedish, it was a lot of fun to watch and well worth the effort of travelling there.

The inside of Pippi Longstocking's house

Astrid Lindgren left us on the 28^th of January 2002, which makes her ninety four if my calculations are correct. I’ve always been a firm believer that the happier you are, the longer you live and if laughter is the best medicine, then bring on the clowns. My trip to Junibacken was a joy and after learning about this amazing woman and I can now tell you that Once upon a time in Stockholm, I set out on an adventure to the home of the strongest girl in the world and discovered the happiest place imaginable.

A little trust that when we die – We reap our sowing - And so goodbye.

George du Maurier

Imagine spending all of your time with Derren Brown. It’s kind of intriguing, but a little daunting. Would you be wondering if you were carrying on of your own free will or under some strange hypnotic suggestion? Maybe you wouldn’t realise you were being manipulated and go about your business in the same carefree manner as always. Why am I asking you this? Well, I recently read a book called Trilby and it kind of made me think a lot about the power of hypnosis. If the hypnotist is truly a hypnotist then he would be like a puppeteer controlling your every move.  I don’t really fancy that but there’s more than one way to control somebody.

In this gothic novel, Trilby O’Ferrall is a foot model.  She has very exquisite feet that are, sculpted and painted.  Unfortunately the poor girl can’t sing a note until Svengali the evil hypnotist gets a hold of her and manipulates her into becoming a great opera singer with the voice of a nightingale. Unfortunately, when her master dies, she’s so exhausted that she also kicks off and sadly never knows of her fame.

Plaque, 91 Great Russell Street, London

The writer responsible for this masterpiece is George du Maurier.  You might remember I blogged about his granddaughter Daphne earlier this year. Anyway, George was born in Paris in 1934. Due to his lineage, George learnt French and English at the same time and in the book Trilby, there is a little French so if you can’t understand what you’re reading, you might want to have Google translate open when you pick up the book. George never graduated due to a failed Latin paper so the family uprooted and headed for London so that he could continue his chemistry studies. He wasn’t really one for chemistry though so after his father died, once again the whole family accompanied George as he relocated back to Paris to continue his studies. This time his focus was art and after studying in Europe, du Maurier returned to London and started to make a name for himself as an illustrator. He continued this work, but also produced three novels. 

The gothic novel, Trilby

The novel Trilby caused a type of mania with the public and there were all sorts of products relating to the leading lady on the market.  These ranged from pins to sausages and it’s also interesting to learn that this is where the Trilby hat got its name. I guess this popularity was probably like that of The Beatles for the book geek.

When George du Maurier passed away he was only sixty two and he died of heart failure just like his evil hypnotist Svengali. When I took the picture of the blue plaque in Great Russell Street, I imagined him strolling along tipping his Trilby to all who passed by, but when I discovered his grave in Hampstead, it was kind of a little more sombre for me.  Sixty two is no age and I know that there would have been more novels because of his incredible talent. 

The resting place of George du Maurier, St John-at-Hampstead

So back to my question at the beginning of the blog, like I mentioned, there’s more than one way to control someone and I don’t need to spend time with a hypnotist to fall into a trance, I just open a book. The world could do a somersault and monkeys could fly past my window and I probably wouldn’t notice. It just goes to show that when you’re truly engrossed in something, the hypnotic power of the engagement envelops you and life kind of passes you by just like it did Once upon a time in this gothic novel and believe me, we haven’t seen the last of that hypnotic power.