The Moominhouse – A Sense of Belonging

It’s 80 years since the publication of the first Moomin book, and as the ultimate story of community and resettlement, it’s no wonder it sits at the centre of this year’s Refugee Week campaign (celebrated on the 16–22 June).

Jansson wrote The Moomins and The Great Flood in 1945, in the shadow of World War II. As hundreds of displaced families tried to piece their lives back together after extraordinary loss and chaos, and find their communities again, so too did Moomintroll and his resilient, resourceful mother.

Their community is founded along the way, as they pick up the lost, lonesome, fearful creatures they find in their path. All in a similar predicament, all a bit lost. As Moominmamma explains: “We’re looking for a nice sunny place where we can build a house…perhaps you’d like to come with us?”

Eventually – thankfully, they also find their beloved Moominpappa, lost in the flood, and so too their home: “This house is the most beautiful one we could ever have.”

But their journey is dark and perilous. There is much to overcome, they must brave the Serpent in the swamp, unexpected noises in the dark, violent storms, cold nights in the open and overwhelming sadness. They come to face to face with such strangeness in the shape of furious ant-lions, uncommunicative Hattifatteners and selfish Hemulens.

But despite being scared and homesick Moominmamma and Moomintroll treat each encounter with tolerance and acceptance – and in most cases with sympathy and compassion. After all, they are all lost and bewildered, they are all looking for something, or someone, and trying to survive against the odds. Indeed it is that compassion that envelopes lost souls who don’t have anyone.

Without judgement or question they are invited to join Moominmamma and Moomintroll because the concept of family is not finite in Jansson’s world, it grows and changes depending on who is in need of it. It is inclusive and generous radiating acceptance and limited by nothing. It is not defined by people who look alike, or act alike or even communicate alike – but by warmth and sharing. An open door, undeterred by unfamiliarity or foreignness.

It’s interesting to consider whether Jansson’s alien world was constructed in order to make the reader feel a sense of unbelonging, or other-ness – so common an experience for the displaced. Whether it’s the Hattifatteners, the Hemulens, the Creeps or the Moomins themself, everyone you meet in The Moomins and The Great Flood is unfamiliar and so somehow hard to trust and understand.

It gives us an insight into how so many refugees must feel as they struggle to belong somewhere new. The disorientating quality of the Moomin books is, in a way, what makes the warmth and comfort of Moominmamma making pancakes in the Moominhouse kitchen so tangible. It's light and love and comfort in an alien environment and it comes to epitomise homeliness.

But it's not just Moominmamma who is capable and optimistic. The book is full of hope and acts of kindness and generosity, from the big (such as the rescue of the cat family or the stork’s help in the search), to the small (the angler fish sharing their soup and the lighthouse boy having sea-pudding ready for anyone who needs it), to the profound (Tulippa’s guiding light)…

There’s a real sense that survival is a collective effort, perhaps founded on the shared need for security, warmth and sustenance after the war. What comes with it in the Moomin world, is an invitation – a welcoming. As we follow the reunited Moomins and Sniff (as he is to become) into the beautiful, peaceful fields, Jansson reminds us that “after the rain the most wonderful flowers come out” – a message perhaps to all those seeking refuge.

Indeed, it’s possible that one of the themes we should be exploring in Refugee Week this year is not only about tolerating and accepting each other, but tolerating and accepting being lost – for a while at least, and the things and people we will discover on the way to finding home.

Because if Jansson’s fantasy world wasn’t a fantasy at all, wouldn’t that be a wonderful world to live in?