While the British Isles seem to have some of the most praise-worthy mothers in the universe of children’s stories, Swedish children seem to be the most charming. There are Peter and Lotta of Elsa Beskow’s imagining; and let us not forget the children of Noisy Village, which Astrid Lindgren brings so whimsically to life. Also a product of the early twentieth century, there are the picture books depicting the adventures of the triplets Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka.
The work of Swedish author and illustrator Maj Lindman, the adventures of Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka are true to life with young children (read: mess and a little chaos) while also demonstrating a calm sense of order and wonder. Lindman wrote the books beginning in the 1920s, and the English editions gained a loyal readership in Canada and the United States.
In the original Swedish version, the triplets were called Rufsi, Tufsi, and Tott, but the names were changed for the English version. According to some sources, Lindman herself wrote the works in English which lends a continuity of style to the works.
Much like “The Children of Noisy Village,” many stories about Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka—and the stories about their male counterparts Snipp, Snapp, and Snur—are about ordinary, everyday life. There are often no mythical creatures or fanciful adventures. The adventures are as simple as the minor mishaps of baking a cake for their mother’s birthday.
One aspect that can be especially interesting to the adult trying to raise children well is how reasonable and unflappable are the grown-ups. When Flicka, Dicka, and Ricka predictably neglect the first cake they are baking for their mother’s birthday and let it burn to a char (after successfully stoking a fire without adult supervision), their Aunt Betty (not actually an aunt, but a friend-of-the-family for whom they have great affection) doesn’t seem to bat an eye. They simply mix up another cake. They have learned through hard-won experience the value of sitting dutifully next to the stove to await the cake’s completion.
Having realistic expectations for children’s behavior and predicting when they will make a great big mess can go a long way to mitigating the disaster—and maintaining composure when it happens. People who interact only with a child or two might not understand the irrepressible vitality of many young people. Beyond three or four healthy, young children, there is a good chance that messes will occur, big ideas will be enacted, and adventures in ordinary life will begin (with all the challenges they present for the adults trying to feed and clothe said children).
If you wonder if it is an exaggeration to say that three children can unleash mess on a home, consider that Marie Kondo—the woman whose name became synonymous with minimalism and home organization—claims she’s “kind of given up” on keeping a perfectly tidy home after welcoming her third child. It’s not as though the children are a drag on everyone, simply that perfect order is not possible with many young ones. What they offer, though, is a potent source of inspiration. It is likely not a coincidence that Lindman, like Beskow and Lindgren, had children of her own.
It’s interesting to consider how much of Swedish picture books are bursting with vegetation and sunshine. Barefoot or lightly-clad children grace the pages of so many Swedish picture books that have won international acclaim. How could a place with such dark and long winters have such memorable summer stories? Perhaps the harshness of the winter inspires the storing up of summer tales, just as the serious endeavors of adulthood can prompt joyful reflection on a treasure trove of stories about childhood. For some of the most heartwarming tales of childhood, look to Sweden!
