We all come with gripes, don’t we. Wages. Car tax. War. Rumours of war which we started. Strimming on a hot day at work, which is probably worse than all of the above. We’ve all been there and wagered on whining, but even then there are those deeper or stranger gripes which not even Job would have aired. Personal stuff that splinters the crystal sharp logos of an otherwise prominent morning.
For me I always wanted a tail. For reals. A tail. My own tail. And not just for me, but a tail for everyone, and further still, not just any sort of tail, but specifically the ones that Moomintroll and his family have. Substantial, with short hair down nine tenths of its length and a big fluffy white flourish at the end. Superb. Colour me jealous.
That thought has been with me since I was grubby and young, and now through into the grubby and the adult. I want that tail, Lord, still. Even after all these years. Of all the gripes, but you know it is true.
Is it just a part of my profound attitude toward the tone and aesthetic of Moomins and Moominvalley? Probably. Is it my fault that whenever my family suggests a trip away, I think Moominvalley? Probably also. I’m not even going to lie and suggest that I think of something more highbrow like Middle Earth, EarthSea or even lovely weekend away in a static in Narnia, although I’m game if you are.
Moominvalley though, at first spring when the snows thaw in sudden deep streams amongst bright blushes of edelweiss and myriad pastel pastorals… and better even than all of that, if you could somehow journey to this holiday destination then you would most certainly have tail whence you are disembarked by whatever means got you there. Again, superb. Then its just have a frolic I guess, at least after you have acclimated with your new appendage. I would probably loose my first couple of days to just flicking my tail and waggling it about. And that’s after I’d cut a back hole in my trousers to make accommodation. Flipping heck, having tails would change everything.
And there’s the rub, to bring it back to reason. The reason why the trinity did not spin a man and his tail; we wouldn’t have gotten up to anything else but playing with them, or flicking or kicking other peoples’ when we are out down a local thoroughfare. It would get out of hand. Plus look at the animals which already have tails; you can tell their current dispositions by how they arrange them so imagine how that would play out between humanoids of an everyday Tuesday evening? Your tail would be a dead give away. It would turn on you and you would begin to potentially harbour distrust toward your own tail. Do I even want that, bearing in mind that I am the one positing the idea?
Yes I do, but I can live with the no for the benefit of us all. Again I will not lie, if it had been myself alongside the trinity at the beginning of all things, I would have voted for tails on people. You may thank the trinity that such an option was not available to anyone. I’d still take a long wander around Moominvalley with or without the tail though. Go find Snufkin. Probably he’d be at the most immediate stream with a sweet wooden moon bridge He doesn’t have a tail and maybe we could both have talk about that and what its like for him to hang out with so many people who do. That’s gotta grate.
You are welcome to your own gripes.
JW Bowe
The Moomins