“Ha!” Mari cried. “You’re very clever at getting me to go along with all sorts of things that are beside the point! The point is, you think guns are fun! Admit you think they’re fun! At midsummer you shot the stovepipe on the tent sauna full of holes, and the smoke’s been coming in ever since. Did I say a word about it? No. But let me tell you something once and for all: I loathe that pistol!”
Tove Jansson, Fair Play
Whenever I think of Tove Jansson’s Fair Play I hear, I loathe that pistol! The women in this book, Mari and Jonna, feel deeply. They loathe. They own pistols. Their passion is magnetic.
When I recall their stories I do not feel as if I have read a book, but instead as if I’ve had the honor of meeting a friend’s crazy aunt and her travel companion from Helsinki in Neil’s Coffee Shop in Manhattan, a coffee shop they first visited in the 60s, for the blueberry pie.
I imagine they call my friend without notice and tell her, we’re eating blueberry pie at Neil’s on the Upper East Side. Do you know it? Do you want to join us? My friend without pause says yes, and we go. We arrive and they order blueberry pie and coffee for us, assuming we’ll enjoy what they’re having, and start right in on describing their day, ignoring the fact that none of us have ever met, and treating us as if they’ve known us for decades.
We’re hypnotized by them and each question we ask leads to a better story than the last, until one of them notices it is past midnight and they stand up to leave our booth at Neil’s, explaining although they look very young, they are old ladies and must rest before catching their train in the morning.
We are left speechless, neither sure how to follow such an act. I walk back to my apartment beneath the night sky wondering, did that really happen?
Perhaps my imagination is a bit wild, but this is how I remember the stories in Fair Play. This is why I return to the book.
Mari and Jonna travel by train, they watch Fassbinder, they avoid pointless chatter about inessentials, and each follows her creative pursuits with the utmost seriousness. They are unforgettable.
I want to ask you to read Fair Play and tell me what you think. No, that’s not entirely true. I only want to know if you love it as I do. If you somehow didn’t adore these women, I fear I’d begin thinking in my father’s voice, if you don’t like this book you must be some kind of … And that wouldn’t be very nice. But really, not enjoying Mari and Jonna’s exploits is like not enjoying butter.
My husband first read Fair Play to me during our September 2011 vacation, we loved it so much there was a repeat performance in September 2013, and I am currently enjoying my third visit with Mari and Jonna, quietly, on my own.
Fair Play is one of Tove Jansson’s few adult books that have been translated into English. It is a slim book of vignettes about two fiery women, one a filmmaker and artist, the other a writer and illustrator, and the time they share together.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Thank you, Denise. You can visit Denise at her blog, Chez Danisse.
the art of seeing things 
Denise is my book mentor. If she says to read it, I do. And i will,
And, how beautifully was this written?
Yes, beautifully! And thank you Denise for showing me this blog. I’ll come here to find inspiration for books to read.
All you really needed was the quote to hook me. But then you went on and enchanted me further, and now I think I must eat blueberry pie and drink coffee with Mari and Jonna. How could I not?
Pingback: Rereading: Fair Play by Tove Jansson | edge of evening
You got Elizabeth to read it, and she wrote of that and I read it too. Loved it! Now I’ve found your blog :-) Thank you.