Fearless Rebels on the Open Road to Freedom and Belonging: Astrid Lindgren’s Ronia the Robber’s Daughter and Rasmus and the Vagabond
– Two Rebels, Two Roads; One Chasing Freedom, One Seeking Home
Two Paths
One day, Ronia and Rasmus sat by the stream,
Rasmus sighed, lost in a dream.
“I wish I had curls, wild and free,
Like the wind in the trees.”
Ronia smirked, tossed her hair with flair,
“I’d trade you there!
Yours looks bold, like a runaway,
While mine’s just a tangle that won’t obey.”
So they swapped hats and sighs.
But nothing had changed,
Just a bandit and a vagabond, face to face.
Ronia groaned, “Well, that was a flop.”
Rasmus laughed, “Guess some things we can’t swap!”
Ronia grinned, “Not even I can win.”
Rasmus bowed, “Not even I can rob.”
Eleanor Farjeon and Astrid Lindgren celebrate children’s independence, imagination, and fierce determination to shape their fate. Their stories are woven with rebels—boys and girls who refuse to be bound by the expectations of the world they were born into. Yet, while Farjeon’s characters challenge fate in quiet, poetic defiance, Lindgren’s young heroes break free in bold and physical rebellion.
Lindgren’s protagonists are fearless, daring, and even reckless at times, yet they are alive in the unshakable pursuit of freedom. Whether driven by choice or forced by circumstance, they are the brave souls who shatter the limits imposed upon them.
If you have read Eleanor Farjeon’s tales, you will recognize these gentle rebels, standing at the crossroads of restraint and resistance, much like Ronja and Rasmus in Lindgren’s stories. Their rebellions may not always be loud, but they are no less powerful.
�Young Kate (Young Kate)
Confined by duty yet unwilling to surrender, Kate is a servant who chooses resilience over resignation. She fights for her children’s freedom, ensuring they will never be bound by the same invisible chains she once bore.
🌙 The King’s Daughter (The King’s Daughter Cries for the Moon)
She has everything, yet longs for the impossible—the moon. Her quiet rebellion is not against hardship, but against the limits of privilege, seeking something beyond what the world says she should desire. Like Ronja, she must redefine her place in the world, and like Rasmus, she searches for something beyond material comfort.
🌹 The Little Lady (The Little Lady’s Roses)
Trapped within invisible walls, she reaches out—not with words, but with a single act of defiance. She casts her roses into the river, sending them toward a world she has never touched. It is a rebellion of hope, much like Ronja stepping beyond her father’s domain, choosing the unknown over the familiar.
🌾 Simple Willie (The King and the Corn)
Dismissed as simple-minded, yet he holds a wisdom greater than kings. He values his father’s corn over gold, seeing truth where others see only riches. Like Rasmus, who rejects the orphanage for the road, Willie chooses wisdom over wealth, defying the expectations placed upon him.
🐶 The Boy (The Clumber Pup)
His rebellion is not one of defiance, but of patience. In a world that demands action and noise, he waits, he endures, he stays true. And in the end, it is his quiet persistence that earns him love and respect.
Two ways
While Astrid Lindgren’s rebels tear away from their worlds in grand, physical acts of defiance, Eleanor Farjeon’s characters change their fate in whispers, in quiet choices, in small but unshakable truths.
Yet, at their core, both authors celebrate the same unyielding spirit—the belief that a child’s future should never be written for them, but by them.
And so we ask: Which kind of rebel will you be?
Rebels in the World of Children’s Stories
In our last deep review, we explored the characters of Eleanor Farjeon’s stories, uncovering the quiet yet powerful ways her young protagonists defy expectations and carve their paths. From Young Kate, who resists the confines of servitude for the sake of her children’s freedom, to The King’s Daughter, who dares to ask for the impossible, and Simple Willie, who values wisdom over wealth—each of these characters teaches us that rebellion in children’s literature is not always about grand escapes, but often about the courage to think differently.
But how do these stories resonate with us as parents? Many of us encourage independence in our children, yet we worry—how much rebellion is too much? Should we nurture their defiance against authority if it helps them develop critical thinking, or should we guide them toward a gentler understanding of the world’s rules? Stories like Farjeon’s allow children to explore these ideas safely within the boundaries of storytelling, where acts of defiance often lead not to destruction, but to growth, wisdom, and newfound purpose.
However, not all rebellion is quiet. In the stories of Astrid Lindgren, we meet children who don’t just question their world—they run, fight, and tear away from it entirely. Ronia the Robber’s Daughter is born into a world of thieves but chooses to abandon her family’s legacy and forge her moral path. Rasmus, in Rasmus and the Vagabond, refuses to wait for life to happen to him, leaving the orphanage behind in search of a life he can control.
Unlike Farjeon’s characters, who often reshape the world while staying within it, Lindgren’s young rebels break free from it altogether. But what happens when a child refuses the life laid out for them? Do they find freedom, or something else entirely?
A Voice
Few authors have captured the spirit of childhood rebellion and the longing for freedom as profoundly as Astrid Anna Emilia Lindgren (1907–2002). A Swedish writer whose stories have shaped generations, Lindgren understood that children are not passive figures in a world ruled by adults—they are independent thinkers, adventurers, and, when necessary, rebels. Her books celebrate the wild, untamed nature of childhood, where rules are meant to be questioned, authority is never absolute, and true growth comes from forging one’s path.
Lindgren’s characters often face a stark choice: conform to the world they were born into or break away to create something new. Two of her most powerful explorations of this theme are found in Ronia the Robber’s Daughter (1981) and Rasmus and the Vagabond (1956).
Ronia the Robber’s Daughter – Born into a family of robbers and outlaws, Ronia is expected to inherit her father’s way of life. But instead of following in his footsteps, she rejects the cycle of violence, choosing friendship, love, and self-reliance over loyalty to a world she cannot accept. Her story is a rebellion not just against her father, but against fate itself.
Rasmus and the Vagabond – In contrast to Ronia’s world of thieves, Rasmus is an orphan trapped in a rigid institution, where he must wait to be chosen by adoptive parents. Instead of accepting his role as a passive child, he escapes into the unknown, preferring the uncertainty of the road to the confinement of the orphanage. With the help of a kind-hearted vagabond, Rasmus learns that family is not something you wait for—it is something you create.
The Romanticized Outlaw vs. Reality: Ronia’s Choice Between Family and Morality
Children’s literature is filled with romanticized outlaws, from Robin Hood, who steals from the rich to give to the poor, to Pippi Longstocking, who gleefully ignores authority yet remains endearing and good-hearted. However, in Ronia the Robber’s Daughter, Astrid Lindgren challenges this idealized portrayal of bandits, showing that the line between honor and wrongdoing is not always so clear.
Ronia, born into a world of robbers and outlaws, is expected to follow in her father’s footsteps, embracing a life of raiding and looting. Her father, Mattis, is a fierce but loving leader, deeply devoted to his daughter, yet his moral compass is flawed. He sees robbing as a way of life, a tradition passed down through generations, and expects Ronia to accept it without question.
However, when Ronia discovers that her family’s rival clan, the Borka robbers, also have a child, Birk Borkason, she begins to see the enemy not as villains, but as people just like her. Her bond with Birk forces her to question her father’s worldview, leading to one of the novel’s most powerful confrontations. When Mattis proudly declares, “You are a robber’s daughter!” Ronia defiantly rejects this fate, shouting back:
“I’m not a robber! I’m Ronia Mattisdaughter, that’s who I am! And I’ll never let myself be made into a robber!”
This moment is crucial—Ronia does not rebel for the sake of rebellion; she does so because she recognizes the moral failure in blindly following her father’s path. Unlike the romanticized outlaws of literature, who steal with a sense of justice, Ronia refuses to justify wrongdoing, even for the sake of family loyalty.
Her rejection of the robber life leads to an intense emotional break between father and daughter. Mattis, feeling betrayed, disowns her in anger, forcing Ronia to choose exile in the wilderness over complicity in a life of crime. Her rebellion is not just against her father, but against the notion that stealing can ever be truly justified.
Through Ronia’s story, Lindgren asks young readers to question inherited beliefs. Unlike Robin Hood, who steals for a noble cause, or Pippi Longstocking, who lives outside the rules but harms no one, Ronia’s rebellion is deeply personal—it is a fight for her integrity.
Would Mattis have ever questioned his life if not for his daughter’s defiance? And how often do children find themselves challenging the values of their parents in pursuit of their sense of right and wrong?
Ronia’s story is not just about rejecting a life of robbery—it is about the power of choosing one’s path, even when it means leaving behind everything familiar.
Nature as a Place of Freedom & Growth: Ronia’s Forest vs. Rasmus’s Road
In Ronia the Robber’s Daughter, the forest is not just a setting—it is a place of transformation, independence, and self-discovery. For Ronia, raised within the stone walls of Mattis’s stronghold, stepping into the wilderness is her first true act of freedom. The wild landscape—with its towering trees, deep caves, rushing rivers, and dangerous creatures—is both a test and a home.
When she is cast out by her father, Ronia chooses the forest over submission, proving that she is capable of surviving on her own terms. Lindgren describes her journey into the wild:
“The forest lay deep and dark before her, and she was filled with both dread and longing. She would no longer be a robber’s daughter, but simply Ronia, alone in the world.”
This passage highlights the duality of nature—it is both a source of fear and a gateway to self-reliance. Ronia must conquer the dangers of the wild—wolves, harpies, and the elements—before she can claim true independence. Over time, she learns to trust her instincts, read the signs of nature, and find strength in solitude. The forest gives her what Mattis’s castle never could: the freedom to define herself on her terms.
Similarly, in Rasmus and the Vagabond, the open road becomes a place of both risk and possibility. The orphanage Rasmus flees from is structured, predictable, and safe—but it is also stifling and joyless. He chooses the uncertain world of the road, much like Ronia chooses the wilderness, and finds not just adventure, but purpose.
When Rasmus meets Oskar, the kind-hearted vagabond, he begins to see the road as a path toward self-discovery. Unlike Ronia, who must prove she can survive alone, Rasmus learns that freedom does not have to mean loneliness. His journey teaches him to trust in the kindness of strangers and to embrace the unpredictability of life beyond the walls of the orphanage.
Yet, both Ronia’s forest and Rasmus’s road come with dangers. For Ronia, the wilderness is filled with physical threats, while for Rasmus, the road is filled with unpredictable people—some kind, some cruel. Both characters must navigate these perils to truly earn their freedom.
“The road was long and uncertain, but Rasmus felt something he had never felt before—he belonged to the world, not just a place.”
This echoes Ronia’s realization in the forest, where she understands that freedom is not just about escape—it is about choosing where and how to belong.
Ultimately, both Ronia and Rasmus find their true selves in the untamed world. The forest and the road represent the boundless possibilities of childhood, where discovery and independence are earned through courage and resilience.
Does every child need a forest or a road of their own? Perhaps Lindgren is telling us that true freedom lies in the willingness to step beyond what is safe and known, to face the wild, and make it home.
Coming-of-Age Through Rebellion: Freedom or Belonging?
In children’s literature, rebellion is often a gateway to self-discovery. Characters like Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables) and Huckleberry Finn (The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn) reject the rules imposed upon them, not out of simple defiance, but because their true selves cannot exist within those rules. Astrid Lindgren’s characters, Ronia and Rasmus, follow a similar path, but their rebellions lead them to very different destinations.
For Ronia, rebellion is about rejecting an inherited fate. She is born into a world of robbers, expected to follow in her father’s footsteps, but she cannot accept a life built on the suffering of others. Her defining moment of rebellion comes when she chooses to leave Mattis’s stronghold and live in the forest rather than become a thief. She declares:
“I’ll never be a robber! I won’t steal, I won’t kill, I won’t hurt people!”
Her rebellion is a pursuit of freedom—the right to define herself outside of her father’s world. But ironically, freedom is not what she ultimately longs for. Though she escapes the expectations of being a robber’s daughter, her heart still craves love and belonging. Her eventual reconciliation with Mattis proves that she did not reject her father, only his way of life.
Rasmus, on the other hand, rebels because he has never belonged to anyone. In the orphanage, he is expected to wait patiently for a family to choose him, but he refuses to accept this passive fate. Instead, he runs away, choosing the uncertainty of the road over the predictability of waiting. Unlike Ronia, who escapes from her family, Rasmus runs toward the hope of finding one. When he meets Oskar the vagabond, he discovers that belonging does not have to come in the form of a traditional family.
At first, Rasmus sees rebellion as a way to gain freedom, but he soon realizes that freedom without love is loneliness. His journey is not about breaking ties, but creating them in unexpected places.
“I didn’t want to wait anymore,” Rasmus says. “I wanted to find someone who wanted me, instead of waiting for someone to pick me.”
Both Ronia and Rasmus grow up through rebellion, but their ultimate goals are different. Ronia rebels to create her moral path, while Rasmus rebels to find a place where he belongs. In the end, neither of them is truly seeking freedom for its own sake—what they want is the power to choose their own fate.
Lindgren shows us that rebellion is not about destruction—it is about building something new. Whether it’s Ronia shaping a life outside of her father’s expectations or Rasmus seeking love beyond the walls of the orphanage, their journeys remind us that true coming-of-age is not just about escaping—it’s about finding where you are meant to be.