After writing about the coziness of British storybooks, a friend remarked that British architecture seems designed for coziness. Most of us (Americans, anyway) don’t think of Italy or France and think of coziness. Why is the British essence one of such undeniable coziness?
This had me wondering about another genre of cozy literature: Swedish children’s stories. I do not feel as though I have visited Sweden. Not in the least! But I have enjoyed a handful of Swedish children’s books, both as a child and reading to my own children.
Elsa Beskow is a perennial favorite. Her exquisite illustrations give the impression of a robust and joy-filled outdoor lifestyle in summer and on skis and warm and nourishing time inside when the weather is especially bad.
There is also the simple pleasures of Flicka, Ricka, Dicka, stories about triplets translated from the Swedish originals.
Among other gems, there are the writings of Astrid Lindgren about “Noisy Village,” a fictionalized version of the farming community where Lindgren’s father grew up. The stories give the impression that good weather is spent outside night and day while the worst of the bad weather is spent indoors in sublime coziness, eating savory fish and sweet treats.
In the genre of Swedish children’s books, I’m looking forward to reading “The Children of Frostmo Moutain,” recently translated into English by Laura Lugnet. I’m anticipated something in the vein of the picture book “Home in the Woods” by Eliza Wheeler. However it turns out, I am confident there will be some coziness. I will report back with my findings once we’ve completed the read-aloud. Swedish stories, like British ones, are usually cozy.
And it’s not just Swedish stories! After finding Carl Larsson on the recommended book list of not only Leila Lawler of Like Mother, Like Daughter but also Sofia Cuddeback at LifeCraft, I did a bit more searching at the library. As it turns out, there appear to be alternate spellings depending on the source. When searching for “Carl” rather than “Karl,” the library system revealed some books about the illustrator and decorator and his wife, Karin, who defined, in part, the styles we have come to know as the “Ikea aesthetic.” Pictures here snapped from the fascinating book, Carl and Karin Larsson: Creators of the Swedish Style.
In recent years, there has been a fad fascination with the Danish concept of hygge. Surely, nearby Sweden can be said to have a similar sensibility for making life pleasurable and cozy when the out-of-doors are inhospitable.
This brings us back to the question: What do Sweden and the British Isles have in common? Quite a bit of bad weather. Of course, every place has it’s bad weather days throughout the year except for those rare exceptions. But in both Great Britain and (from what little I can discern) Sweden, there are many overcast, rainy, snowy, or otherwise dreary days. What could be more conducive to storytelling, cups of tea, baked treats, and fireside musings than such weather.
This dismal state of weather also induces euphoria when the sun is shining, leading to remarkable appreciation for the summer days when children are not stuck indoors.
There is a lot more to mull over about how bad weather helps us appreciate the good, what it means to make the most of where we are planted, and how to bring more coziness into our lives wherever we may live. Step number one is undoubtedly resolving to read more British and Swedish children’s storybooks. They are not just pleasant reading but also lessons in living well.
