I found a booklet on the mat under the letterbox. On the cover the familiar facial features of Heer Bommel and Tom Poes, the glorious name Marten Toonder and the title: The Hopsas. I think I’ve read almost all the Bommel stories, but I could only vaguely remember this one (there are so many!), so I happily took the book upstairs. Something with enchanted spring water, right?
‘CLIMATE EDITION’, I saw written in large letters on the back. When I opened it, I didn’t just find Heer Bommel enjoying a nutritious breakfast or behind the wheel of the Oude Schicht, but a foreword by Marjan Minnesma. She is director of Urgenda, a foundation that is committed to sustainability. She spoke about Tata Steel, the Groningen gas extraction and other excesses of the ‘eager big business’, sighed ‘Where is Commissioner Bas when you need him?’ and concluded: ‘The Bommel stories can inspire, give courage and hope to many (…).’
Then the story began. Our anthropomorphic favorite bear accidentally ends up with his (non-binary?) buddy Tom Poes in the Hopsa valley, a place of pleasure where the sun always shines. Peaceful, happy creatures live there, the Hopsas, who do little else than dance and play the flute. The cause turns out to be the water from the river: a beneficial drink, ‘eating, drinking and being merry’ at the same time.
Heer Bommel and Tom Poes enjoy that simple happiness for a while, but then Bommel decides that he doesn’t want to keep all that deliciousness to himself. ‘I don’t think it’s right to have such a good time here, while friends and acquaintances lead a worrying existence in the rain. It’s my duty as a gentleman to let everyone enjoy it, now you say for yourself.’
Of course there is misery. Before you know it, Professor Prlwytzkofski is examining the Hopsa water. He, too, is impressed and ‘lingered for a moment on the doorstep to perform a short heel dance to the beat of a foreign song. “Pom, Pomr pomskoja/ Van der Baml inder Bams, oh yes,” he sang. “Praw!” he exclaimed. ‘A cleaner taste. This flooding is wonderful! I feel quite pleasantly distraught.’
And sure enough, the Bovenbos are already rushing to the Hopsa Valley there, because there must be money to be made with that water. Money, which always ruins everything. ‘Mr. Steenbreek went to the bank of the river and pulled a bottle from his pocket. ‘Fill up, boy’, he said coolly to a Hopsa who had followed him.’
Bul Super and journalist Argus also make a greedy contribution, and moments later the Hopsas are chased away by throngs of tourists who trample everything and pollute the place. But then suddenly the river water seems to lose its mysterious power…
The story dates from 1974, but ‘can be read as a wry parody of the climate crisis and the crazy mass tourism of today’, according to the back cover of the booklet. Yes, that was very prophetic of Marten Toonder! Or not?
I remember 1974 very well. Even then we were in the middle of a crisis, even though the Climate was then still called ‘Environment’. Everywhere hung that poster of the globe, represented as a burning candle. The World Wildlife Fund threw cuddly, dying pandas into the fray. My mother only cooked brown rice with pebbles and unsprayed carrots, and boycotted the spray cans of hairspray that would kill us all.
It helped. Soon things got a lot better with the Environment. But then came the Climate.
Fortunately, we still have the Bommel stories, in which everything always ends well.