In their 80th year, the Moomins (or Moomintroll, in the original Swedish) are enduringly beloved. Alongside other legends of children’s illustration, such as Dick Bruna’s Miffy, and Charles M Schulz’s Snoopy, the Moomins can be found on keyrings, mugs and t-shirts in gift shops all around the world. But this aestheticisation of the Moomin image is a relatively modern development. Tove Jansson’s original series has nine books, in addition to several picture books and comic strips, and in the years since, there have been a number of animated TV and film iterations of the Moomin story, including 2014’s Moomins on The Riviera (dir. Xavier Picard).
The simplicity of the Moomins’ design (they don’t have mouths or noses!), and the apparent quaintness of their stories, might deceive the casual observer into believing there is little depth in Jansson’s work, but a closer look reveals a great complexity in her storytelling, with none more perceptive to this complexity than Jansson’s child reader.
After Pictureville’s screening of Moomins on The Riviera on 23 May, a panel of Moomin experts from The Conversation discussed the cultural significance of Tove Jansson’s stories, and what they referred to as their ‘quietly radical’ politics. In particular, the panel explored what the Moomin stories tell us about displacement and the refugee experience—a discussion made all the more significant by its taking place in Bradford, a city whose past and present is inextricably tied to migration.
The Moomins came into being in 1945, with Moomins and The Great Flood. It was the story of a mother (Moominmama) taking her child on the long and treacherous road to reunite with his father. By the end of World War Two, this was, of course, a familiar experience for many, with people all across Europe rendered refugees, and this was very much a part of Jansson’s own lived experience.
It seems that the Moomins’ story of displacement continues to find a resonance among modern refugee experiences. The young Moomin’s story allows children in 2025 to engage with the refugee experience as much as children in 1945. In this vein, Moomin artwork by Palestinian artist Basel Zaraa is being displayed in Bowling Park in Bradford throughout June, as part of Refugee Week.
At Pictureville’s panel, Professor Melanie Ramdarshan Bold emphasised what separates Moomins and The Great Flood from other children’s stories of displacement. She argued that Jansson’s storytelling decentres trauma and doesn’t expect ‘resilience’ of its child protagonist.
The panel felt that this story acknowledges the role of the mother in crisis, whose job is often to protect and safely transport a child, whilst the father is already in the new place, preparing their home (whatever that might look like). Dr Isabel Joley Black discussed how Moominmama’s incredible resourcefulness across all of the Moomin stories (and her seemingly Tardis-like handbag) is in equal parts a powerful, recognisable and hilarious image of motherhood.
Dr Steve Nash praised Jansson’s aversion to a neatly tied-up plot. This tendency—alongside an illustration style that asks for so much to be interpreted with just the eyes, as discussed by Amelia Huw Morgan—respects the intelligence of child readers, and asks them to meet the story halfway. They can think actively, as they read and laugh, and perhaps learn something along the way.
Though reviewers of Moomins on The Riviera debate how well the film serves the spirit of Jansson’s original stories, there are hints of these quietly radical politics within its farcical plot. We see Moominmama creating gardens wherever she can (including the sea!), in the hopes they can be enjoyed by any- and everyone, and at no monetary cost, which speaks to how she values nature and community.
Moomins on The Riviera presents a running joke in which the Moomins don’t understand that they are expected to produce money in exchange for the lavish things they’re offered. Their inability to understand money is endearing, but also quite representative of their way of life in Moominvalley—where community, kindness and sharing make such things redundant.
At the panel, Amelia Huw Morgan drew attention to the moment Moominmama and Moominpapa are asked, “You are not rich?” to which Moominmama replies “Not in the way you understand it.” She believed this tapped into the heart of what the Moomins are about. They’ve known struggle, and their lives are simple, but they are rich in happiness, rich in family and community, and rich in love.