Greetings, reader!
As the second edition of Literature Month continues, I'm turning the lens to my other home country - last week I ranked the top 10 Great American Novels, so this week, it's Finland's turn. As far as I know, this land doesn't have an equivalent to the canonical and mythical term "Great American Novel", so instead of copying that idea, I'll just broaden the spectrum and rank my top 10 favorite Finnish books, no matter what genre and style of literature they may represent.
Here are my honorable mentions: Christina Salmivalli - Koulukiusaamiseen Puuttuminen, Matti Rantasila - Oli Neljä Veikkoa Meitä, Mikael Huhtamäki - Scream for me Finland! Kansainvälistä hevikeikkahistoriaa 1980-luvun Suomesta, Sauli Niinistö - Viiden Vuoden Yksinäisyys, Veijo Murtomäki - Jean Sibelius ja Isänmaa.
10. Aino Sibeliuksen Kirjeitä Järnefelt-suvun Jäsenille
This collection of letters to and from Aino Sibelius, the wife of legendary composer Jean Sibelius, is a fascinating window into an important period of time in Finnish history. The letters offer insight into the marriage of Jean and Aino, the culture and lifestyle of their time, and into the larger cultural history of Finland - Aino herself came from the Järnefelt family, whose various members had a major role in the shaping of Finnish art and the Finnish identity, through music, literature and painting. It's a moving collection, one that history buffs and classical music enthusiasts are bound to enjoy, and it works as somewhat of a time capsule.
9. Sirpa Kyyrönen - Lempeät Tukaanit
There's a place in my heart for Finnish poetry, as more than one poem collection made it into today's top 10. I started getting into writing poetry much before I got into reading it, but when I did begin to gain interest in consuming poetry by others, this collection by Sirpa Kyyrönen was one of the first works I tackled. It's the Finnish language at its most beautifully flowing, with depictions of nature and deep ponderings of the self and of human nature coloring the images brought to mind by Kyyrönen's elegant words. It's a colorful collection, with atmospheres ranging from delightfully serene to stormy and dramatic.
8. Aleksis Kivi - Nummisuutarit
Like the collection of Aino Sibelius letters, this play by Finland's most beloved playwright is likewise a delightful look at the ways of 'Old Finland'. It's a comedic misadventure, light at heart while having much to say with its intriguing characters and redemption archs of initially unlikable people.
Kivi's language is so rich that the play is an entertaining read on its own, even though I'd imagine it comes to life on a whole other level on the theater stage. I haven't had a chance to see it yet, unless you count the modernized version Nummibodarit, which I saw many years before I ever got around to reading the original text.
7. Sofi Oksanen - Puhdistus
Puhdistus ("Purge") is one of the least fun, most depressing hard-to-read books you'll ever come across. Originally a play by Sofi Oksanen and later written into a novelized version, this multiple-award-winning literary work tells a story spanning multiple generations, its characters haunted by abuse, sexism and violence against women. It is a reading experience as horrifying as it is important, managing to tackle interesting history and gripping social issues as well with its milieu of Soviet-occupied Estonia. The bleakness of Oksanen's language and word choices is perfect for such a dark tale, and the effect the book has on its reader will stay with you.
6. Tove Jansson - Muumilaakson Marraskuu
I really, really hate November, the absolutely shitty excuse for a month that manages to bring one down every year. A few years ago, I was having an exceptionally disasterous N*vember, with school stress and relationships and all sorts of things just falling apart, and I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown when I asked my friend Hilda, who lives nearby, if I could come over for a cup of tea, as I just really didn't want to be alone. I arrived at her place, and she handed me a book, saying I should read it. It was Muumilaakson Marraskuu, the last Moomin book written by Tove Jansson.
The deeply melancholic book hits you hard on many levels - the story of secondary characters finding the Muumitalo empty and deciding to take care of it in the winter ends up seeming cute in its own way, but when you find out that Jansson wrote this as a metaphor for dealing with her own mother's passing, the whole "the house feels so different without Muumimamma's comforting presence" atmosphere is devastating. The reading experience was glum but in a mellow and ultimately comforting way - my friend had certainly known me well enough to know that this was just what I needed.
5. Terhi Kokkonen - Rajamaa
Rajamaa is the debut novel by Terhi Kokkonen, the lead vocalist and lyricist of one of my favorite Finnish bands, Scandinavian Music Group (she also sang for the more famous, if slightly less my-cup-of-tea band Ultra Bra when it was still active). As a huge fan of Kokkonen's lyrics, a fictional book written by her was a concept that immediately grabbed my attention, and it sure didn't disappoint. I love how the text is somewhat similar to her song lyrics in a specific way, despite the differences of the media - the immaculate SMG vibe can be felt in how she introduces characters and describes settings.
The flash-forward beginning immediately reels you into the story's slowly unfolding mystery, with a peculiar and Lynchian vibe having the reader fully hooked as the fascinating intrigue plays well with the bleak and melancholic premise. When all is said and done, the book will leave you with questions to ponder and interpretations to be made, as a good book should.
4. Tommy Tabermann - Kukkiva Kivi
Like last week's Literature Month post, this one also calls for a shout-out to my high school homeroom teacher and kick-ass teacher of Finnish and literature, Maarit. She has shaped my taste in books and my appreciation for literature more than any other individual, and the few different books that I received from her (one as a graduation present, one as part of a scolarship of sorts and one as a thank-you when my civil service at the same school drew to a close) are very precious to me as she always knew just which book I could really use.
This collection of poems by Tabermann is wildly emotional, with texts ranging from short-and-to-the-point to long-winding-ramblings, from sweet and delicate romance to depictions of erotic lust, from grim and heartbreaking to beautifully inspiring. There were many parts that I had to bookmark so that I could return to them in later stages of life, as Tabermann's words had such a haunting effect on me. Nothing quite like a good poem, and this book certainly has its share.
3. Elias Lönnrot - Kalevala
The Finnish national epic Kalevala, assembled into its known form by Elias Lönnrot, has been subject to some interesting debate in recent years - the story's roots are in the old culture of Karelia, and aspects were changed to fit the purely Finnish national identity better, and for a long time the epic has been discussed as a purely Finnish point of pride while shunning its Karelian roots. I'm a big Kalevala enjoyer, and all credit to the Karelian folks of old for creating a large chunk of this story.
When viewed less as a debate point juxtaposing patriotism, colonialism and cultural heritage and merely as a reading experience, there's no getting around the fact that the Kalevala f**king rules. There's a multitude of classic heroes, creepy villains, cool lore and epic quests to make one think that this would make for one hell of a Hollywood blockbuster, yet there are also many uniquely Finnish/Karelian characteristics spicing the story up and making it stick out. This is also one of the many national epics that influenced J.R.R. Tolkien himself, and the antihero Turin Turambar in The Silmarillion is largely based on the character Kullervo (or, as Finnish schoolbooks like to report it, "The Lord of the Rings is basically copied from Kalevala since Tolkien got all his inspiration from Finland").
2. Kjell Westö - Missä Kuljimme Kerran
I really should read more Kjell Westö - this winner of the 2006 Finlandia prize remains the only book I've read from him, and considering that it's my second-favorite Finnish book of all time, it feels wrong that I haven't read any more. I'll have to work on that once my Stephen King phase wears down (assuming it ever does). But, yeah, Missä Kuljimme Kerran is a truly gripping tale, showcasing the writer's deep understanding of Finnish history and the atmosphere and identity of old Helsinki. I've always liked books and films where a very real historical era is looked at through a fictional plot, and this book is one of the very best instances of the trope: the main characters and their stories are fictional, but there is an incredible amount of intricate and realistic context coloring the story, making everything feel like it could've really happened.
Taking place from the troubles of 1905, where Finland was finding its national identity, all the way through independence, the Civil War and the Lapua movement to the doorstep of the Winter War, this book follows various characters as they live through a rapidly changing Helsinki and change themselves quite a bit. The youngsters from the rich families become more or less willing participants of one side in the Civil War while the youngsters from the poor families on the other, really reminding the reader how the era was more complicated than your history books might tell you and most people really didn't have a choice on what they found themselves fighting for. Amidst all the gripping character archs, the book's most lively and fascinating character just may be the city of Helsinki itself, truly coming to life as a living, breathing thing through Westö's words.
1. Väinö Linna - Tuntematon Sotilas
A mainstream pick for sure, but I couldn't really go with any other one (although Missä Kuljimme Kerran did give this classic a run for its money, to be fair). There's something deeply universal about Tuntematon Sotilas ("The Unknown Soldier") - its themes of appreciating the sacrifices of those who fought in the Continuation War make even the most patriotic Finns love this classic, yet its criticism of the brutality and inhumanity of war is so pronounced that pacifist hippies such as myself love it equally. Basically, it all comes down to "sending your young men, children really, to kill and die for your country is a f**ked up concept, but the bravery of those young men thrust into that situation is something one can hardly comprehend".
The characters, from the loud and rebellious Rokka and the cheerful and lovable Hietanen all the way to the grumpy communist Lahtinen and the giggly Vanhala, are deeply engrained staples of Finnish culture. As well as they have been captured on the big screen, both in the original 1955 film and the 2017 remake, there's really no beating Väinö Linna's original text with its authentic dialogue, sprinkles of humor amidst the realistically depicted horrors of war, and overall powerful impact.
Thank you for reading! Tune in next week as I continue Literature Month II with a ranking of my top 10 favorite authors of all time.
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