The True Deceiver by Tove Jansson Read Free Book Online

when she smiles..? Not one of Anna’s acquaintances, the acquaintances she used to have – no, it was a picture, something in a book. And suddenly Anna began laughing to herself. In fact, the smiling Katri in her fur hat reminded her of the Big Bad Wolf.
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    A picture book by Anna Aemelin appeared roughly every other year, a very small book for very small children. The publisher supplied the text. Now the publisher had sent a royalty statement and enclosed a couple of old reviews from last year, which had, unfortunately, with apologies and warmest regards, been mislaid. Anna unfolded the clippings and put on her glasses.
    Aemelin amazes us once again with her unpretentious, almost loving treatment of the miniature world that belongs to her alone – the forest floor. Every detail, meticulously rendered, gives us a jolt of recognition and, simultaneously, of discovery. She teaches us to see, to truly observe. The text is really only a commentary for children who have just barely learned to read, and it does not vary much from one little book to the next. But Miss Aemelin’s watercolours are perpetually fresh. Her frog’s-eye perspective, naive as well as terribly accomplished, captures the essence of the forest, its silence and its shadow. What we have before us is the untouched forest primeval. Only the tiniest reader will venture to tread on her mosses, with or without rabbits. We are convinced that every child …
     
    Anna always stopped reading when they started on the rabbits. The other clipping had a picture, the usual one that they used far too often. The caricature was good-natured , but the artist was thinking “rabbit” more than “Anna”. He had lavished attention on her front teeth, square, with small gaps between, and on the whole she looked fluffy, white and vacant. Now I mustn’t be silly, she thought. After all, it’s not everyone gets their picture in the paper. But next time I must remember not to show my teeth and to hold up my chin. If only they didn’t always insist on a smile…
    Anna Aemelin’s natty little books with their washable covers are always received with pleasure. They have been translated into several languages. This year’s story focuses principally on the gathering of blueberries and lingonberries. With all due respect to Miss Aemelin’s convincing and captivating presentation of the Nordic forest, one must nevertheless wonder whether her really rather stereotyped rabbits…
     
    Yes, yes, said Anna to herself. Things are not always that simple – not for me, not for anyone…
    The children’s letters would have to wait for another time. Safe in her room, Anna drew up the coverlet, turned on the lamp as the daylight began to wane, opened to her bookmark, and read on. And as she read about Jimmy’s Adventures in Africa , her tranquillity returned, as she had hoped it would.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    I T GREW COLD IN EARNEST . Again and again Liljeberg had to shovel the path to Miss Aemelin’s so that Fru Sundblom, with her bad legs, could get up the hill to clean. She went only once a week, and the upstairs had been shut for years, but it was nevertheless too much for an old woman, and Fru Sundblom often bewailed her fate.
    “But you make a good living crocheting coverlets,” said Madame Nygård. “Tell Miss Aemelin that the cleaning is too hard for you. There are younger women who can take over. Katri Kling quit her job in the shop, and she carries the mail up to the rabbit house. Mention it to her.”
    “To her!” Fru Sundblom exclaimed. “You know yourself that you can’t just go talk to Katri Kling. At least, I can’t. I have my principles.”
    “For example,” said Madame Nygård.
    But Fru Sundblom didn’t seem to be listening. She looked grimly out the window, said the usual things about the snow, then very soon went home. When people came to visit Madame Nygård, they were always offered the rocking chair. Only Fru Sundblom was so nervous and so full