An elderly artist and her six-year-old granddaughter while away a summer together on a tiny island in the gulf of Finland. Gradually, the two learn to adjust to each other's fears, whims and yearnings for independence, and a fierce yet understated love emerges - one that encompasses not only the summer inhabitants but the island itself, with its mossy rocks, windswept firs and unpredictable seas.

My mum bought me this book for Christmas as the review of it reminded her so much of me and my Nana. She thought I'd like it, to see if the granddaughter and grandmother in the book were really like we used to be. I knew Tove Jansson from the Moomin books, but haven't read anything else of hers. I'm looking forward to reading this, though I'm a little concerned I'll cry like a big baby girl throughout if it reminds me too much of Nana.

January 30th 2004
Up to Page 40

This book is so gentle and calmly written it's hard to read in large chunks. It's divided into short chapters and the style is simplistic and descriptive. There isn't much dialogue so far, or too many exchanges between Sophie (the granddaughter) and her grandmother. My only objection so far is the prologue, which quotes large sections of the book and explores themes too deeply. Once I realised that reading the prologue would spoil my enjoyment I skipped ahead and will read it when I've finished.

February 7th 2004
The End

I forced myself to sit down and finish this book today, as it was becoming quite the albatross. I can't honestly say whether I enjoyed it or not, as it's so laid back you have to struggle to care.

Each chapter is written in tiny, bite-sized anecdotes and don't have any relation to each other. In a way that's frustrating, because you want some type of story progression. Instead just when the narrative begins to take shape the chapter ends and a new section begins. As well as being short the passages are all beginning, with incredibly detailed descriptions that try to set a scene, but as soon as the surroundings are clear the chapter rushes to a conclusion, that's often less than a one line wrap-up.

The most irritating part of the book is that it's supposed to happen during one, long summer on this Finnish Island and each section begins 'One Summer', or 'There was one August', which suggests that there's a more expansive time-frame being talked about.

The actual relationships between the characters really confused me. It took me till half-way through the book to work out that 'Papa' was in fact Sophia's father, and not the grandmother's husband. He was very two dimensional and barely set foot outside his room where he 'worked' though we were never told at what. Sophia and the grandmother confused me more. The back of the book clearly hints at a resolution, and coming together of the two relatives, but nothing changes from the first bolshy and slightly obnoxious exchange to the last. Sophia is a brat throughout, though an imaginative one, and the grandmother seems only willing to placate the child in order to go back to her book, or thoughts of her own. There was no real affection between them, in fact the only affection in the book was with regard to the island and it's surroundings. It left me confused, and a little disheartened.

Towards the end of the book I began to suspect that the grandmother was preparing for her own death, but this really wasn't explored or dealt with apart from discussing her and Sophia's differing feelings about God.

All in all I was left unsatisfied, and a little annoyed by this book as it could have been tender and interesting. I'm not sure how much it suffered from being translated, perhaps an awful lot. The writing style was very simplistic and childlike, but that could have been bad translation.

If I'd have read the back of the book myself I might have been tempted to buy this, but if it hadn't been a gift I don't know if I'd have persisted to the end. I'm glad I read it, but I'm not sure I gained anything from the experience. The one thing I know for certain is that Sophia and her grandmother have no relation to the relationship I had with my Nana.