Ronja has had more of an influence on me at the time than most other books. Its effect is lesser now, but that’s because it was honestly perfect for me at the time. The strong Ronja, with her wildness and her tenderness and her strength, did her part in carrying me through the less fortunate moments of my childhood. I loved the book to pieces. It taught me about strength and loyalty and self-reliance when I needed them.
It holds up well to a re-read, and the adult point of view is certainly interesting. I didn’t catch that Ronja’s father is an alcoholic, for example, which is clear when looking at the book now. As with all Lindgren books, it feels incredibly real, as if I could touch everything she’s talking about. Everybody sounds like a real person, as if she had been there and just written up what she had heard.