This book is good in everything: the language, the atmosphere, the humor, the illustrations and the quality of the publication, but there is an aspect in it that really warms the heart and causes white envy. And it seems incredibly surprising, considering that the story was written in 1947. Namely, the feeling of well-being of all the characters.
The action takes place in a tiny Swedish village with three houses. Farm families with children live in these houses. Once again: it’s 1947. At the same time, people are not only well-fed, well-dressed, but downright prosperous. Every day they bake pies here, eat buns, and treat each other to sweets. Children go to spend the night in the hayloft - here's a sandwich with sausage for you to snack on before bed, kids, and when you wake up, come right back for fresh milk and fresh buns. The whole group of kids go to play in their secret cave - take pretzels, meatloaf and cookies with you, kids.
One of the heroines has a birthday - her parents give her a gift in the morning: they move her from her brothers to a separate, newly renovated room with wallpaper in bouquets, white furniture and bright rugs. But that comes later, and first, as a birthday girl, they bring cocoa and a cake with icing to bed!
Children have toys, books and beautiful clothes. Each of them owns their own fruit tree - some have cherries, some have plums. And “one’s own” really means “one’s own,” that is, this is not a cunning scam by parents who thus shift the care of the garden to the child, no - children really can dispose of the fruit at their own discretion. If you want, eat it right away, if you want, store it for the winter, if you want, sell it (and keep the money for yourself, yes, yes). And for each weeded bed, the child is entitled to a payment. Never the everyday life of a collective farmer, in short. It’s absolutely amazing that children have their own chickens, rabbits and even lambs, which have every chance of living a long, happy life and dying a natural death.
Unboxing from a seven-year-old heroine for Christmas: “I received a new doll, three books, a funny mirror, fabric for a dress, mittens and a lot of stuff. Only fifteen gifts!" Her two brothers also received 15 gifts. Yeah, my parents bought 45 gifts for one holiday. How do you like this? We thought that only modern children began to be filled with toys, but here you go!
Easter. All six village children receive silver eggs with small flowers. So pretty! Each one contained marzipan chicken and lots of caramel."
By God, it’s like you’re reading a book about the life of the royal family, and not about children from a remote northern farm.
Astrid Lindgren herself grew up on a similar farm in a peasant family with four children, and her native village is the prototype of Bullerby. She took some stories from her childhood. It is not known whether her parents could afford all these material joys, but it is known that they were quite financially prosperous.
The book leaves a feeling that life is a celebration (and not an overcoming).
A huge contrast with our children's literature, not only of the post-war period, but also of a much later time. Well done Swedes!
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