#well to be clear he sounds finnish to people who are not finnish but finns incorrectly clock his accent as swedish instead

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Every time I think about what Ahti II would sound like I always have to metaphorically beat myself on the head, “he sounds Swedish!!! He sounds Swedish!!! HE!! SOUNDS!!! SWEDISH!!!!!” I accidentally make him British every single time

[celemee]

.....please design an over the top Finnish character for Dragon Age. Please. A list of details or a drawing, or drabble. Anything.

OH MY GOD???? Enter Raimo Häkkinen, a modern man thrown into Kirkwall.

For @dadrunkwriting

-----

Finland has won the World Championship in ice hockey. Again. It was no surprise to Raimo, who's had a lifelong passion for the game; he could tell this year's team had a real chance. Of course, it didn't need to be a surprise; he'd celebrated until the wee hours of the morning... a decision he kind of regrets now as he opens his bleary eyes.

...häh?

He's woken up in some pretty weird places before, but this room takes the cake. This place makes his grandmother's cabin in the woods of Lappeenranta look downright modern. The morning light is spilling out of the windows, which is nice, cos he can't for the life of him find a light switch in the room. Just a lonesome stub of a candle.

He locates his Suomi-scarf, however, and that's the important thing. How else would he display his love of the game?

Reaching for it and taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he waits out the spinning in his head and heads outside. Taking a little bit of support from the wall, he carefully advances in the corridor.

The clinking of glasses reaches his ears. Well, that's a sound he knows. This must be a bar of sorts.

When he finally reaches the stairs, a weird sight greets him. There's people, but they're... different. One guy sitting next to a fireplace with writing equipment seems really short. Really, really short. Some folks have elongated ears and weirdly slim bodies.

Oh no... he must be in Sweden.

"SUOMI!" he bellows out in support of the Finnish hockey team, knowing it'll irk the pesky Swedes, but gains weirded-out looks instead. To rub salt on their wounds, he adds; "Den glider in!"

Yes, it's a joke from the 90s — the Finns stealing the Swedish pre-recorded celebration song that the poor bastards never got to use, because they lost to Finland, hah! — but most of the patrons look old enough to remember.

It doesn't get the expected result, however. Raimo clears his throat and descends the stairs, unerringly finding the counter. He orders a pint with his best approximation of English, and while the bartender doesn't look like he understands, he serves Raimo anyway.

No harm in celebrating a bit longer. It's only a once-a-year thing, anyway.

A very fine-looking and scantily clad woman enters the building, taking her place close to Raimo.

"Laitappa yks tolle likallekin," Raimo tells the bartender, only afterwards realising it came out in Finnish. "One for the girl," he explains, pointing at his own pint and then at the girl.

"Isabela. And I'm perfectly fine paying for my own drink."

That was a lot of words... Raimo tilts his head at the lady, trying to piece it all together. Somehow, he manages, and soon enough he's telling her all about the final game that took place last night. She admits to knowing nothing about it, but humours him and keeps the conversation going, even if the guy's accent is hard to understand.

Perhaps it's the fact that Raimo isn't an actual arsehole, or perhaps it's because he's a weird little guy who seems pretty lost, Isabela offers him a deckhand position on her ship.

Raimo accepts gleefully, even if it means he has to work with Swedish sailors. His grandmother always said he should go out and see the world while he's still young and he's pretty sure this counts.

Besides, it's a full year until the next Championship. He's in no rush to leave.

[badhockeymom]

Teuvo @urheilucast part 3: The Big Win (sidenote: Teuvo ♡ Kime)

Teuvo Teräväinen won the Stanley Cup on his rookie season. Of course the Finnish podcast that got him as a guest wanted him to talk about it. He did. 

(He talked about the surprises of being thrown in some nights, scratched on others, how hard it was to talk to the media in his beginner level English, lucky bounces)

( With 1G-1A in the win, rookie Teuvo Teravainen becomes the youngest player in Hawks franchise history (at 20 years, 265 days of age) to record a multi-point SC Final game, when they beat Lightning 2-1 in Gm1 of their 2015 Stanley Cup Final series.)

I jump to the big day of the winning game 6 in Chicago:

Teuvo: “The whole day was really weird. I couldn’t sleep - I’m usually a good sleeper in the night, and, especially the game day nap is, I’m a world class napper, flick the switch and I’m dozed off.

But that day my thoughts kept me awake, hope I don’t screw up anything, and when it is so close you start to think if we win, where will I take the cup if I get to show it at home, of course you shouldn’t think that far ahead but you can’t help it. It’s the biggest thing you can win as a hockey player and it’s a home game - those thoughts were there, and it was hard to stay focused on the game.

Somehow I got on the ice. We had a couple of PP chances there, and I fumbled with the puck and nearly lost it once, and Quenneville didn’t put me out on PP again in that game.

It was a reminder that I wasn’t playing that game in a normal state of mind. I got a grip of myself and forced myself to play simple hockey, skating hard and staying out of trouble. Our stars took hold of the game, Keith doing a superb solo performance, Kane was magical through the whole game, Toews doing his thing, Crawford locking the gate of the goal. They played well when they had to step up, like they had done throughout the playoff series.”

“I had faith in our team and especially in the players who really carried the game. It’s a great feeling to be so close to it. I watched in the 3rd period because I didn’t really play - no, actually, I was on the ice briefly, two or three minutes before the end of the game, I listened like “Did I hear that right, did he say Teuvo?” and I did a quick spin.

We watched it with Kime, Kime sat at the other end of the bench and I was at the other end, we watched and looked (I’m not exactly sure if Teuvo means they like exchanged looks or if they both watched the game, the expression is not that clear), he was in a shock there at his end, so tense and nervous, I could see his stick shaking.”

Host: “Did you say to Kime when you were celebrating that ‘It isn’t that hard to win one of these Cups’?”

Teuvo: “Well yes, I guess I did, we went on the ice and hugged, I said something like “well it wasn’t that hard.” Kime - Kime has a sense of humor, he understood it, didn’t take it bad but he hasn’t let it go. He will never let me forget I said it. He’s a fine guy, it’s great that he had the chance to experience it with us. I’m happy for Kime it happened.”

Host: “Kimmo tells funny stories about you in his own Kimanttia podcast, things like how you only reply his texts with emojis, like one thumb up - I call it the millionaire thumb. And tells how you only ate at the Chicago Cut Steakhouse because they let you eat for free.”

(--)

Host: “Who was the MVP of the Stanley Cup celebrations?”

Teuvo: “I didn’t even see some gentlemen very much, they were so dazed all the time, won’t name any names. We went mostly together as a team, I remember one day just going from bar to bar, I think ten bars in that day, with the cup. Huge crowds everywhere. I was underage by the US drinking laws, had to keep a low profile. I can’t say who would have lead it.”

Host: “Please tell me it was Patrick Kane, I’d love to think he was the head architect of the party.”

Teuvo: “Well. Like I said, some people were a bit checked out and he was one of them. I didn’t even see Patrick Kane very much in the celebrations at one point, least of all with his eyes open.”

Host: “Maybe he did the Olli Määttä, a little nap to gather his energies.

Teuvo: “He had 3 or 4 bodyguards around him all the time, they wouldn’t let him be photographed or anything. But, you know, I was a kid, nothing too wild happened with me. One thing that I remember was that we Finns missed the bus in one bar and a police car had to take me to the next bar where the rest of the team was, sirens sounding through downtown Chicago.

The parade was really nice, so many people, it was insane. People on the rooftops, climbing in trees. I’m glad I had my phone with me and took videos, it’s nice to watch them sometimes and remember how many people there were. It’s one of the greatest memories of the whole set.”

[fuckyeahrebelfinn]

@captainamericagf

Amanda I wanted to clear upa few things about IX’s shooting and John’s post ect and it’s going to be too damn long for your inbox, so here’s to hoping tumblr’s tagging decides to work.

(Also @vaderey)

Re: the tag FN2187 on John’s photo. 

I’m sorry to say that that “only” signifies that it’s about Finn. John is a very inconsistent tagger who rarely tags at all and only at times where he finds whatever tag very central to the post. FN2187 have been his go to tag for Finn since TFA came out, probably because it’s the only truly unique identifier for Finn. If he just tagged #Finn it would drown in the thousands upon thousands of other Finns on Instagram, but there’s only one FN-2187.

So I hate to rain on everyone’s theories about a Stormtrooper uprising - including my own - but all that means is that whatever badassery was going on Finn was central to it, but with no indication of what kind of badassery it was.

Finn’s injuries:

As for the lack of plasma burns indicating anything can I just remind everyone that lightsaber injury to hands tend to result in not plasma burns but lost hands?

I mean look at all the plasma burns that Luke got in his duel with Vader at Cloud City?

Oh wait, that’s more cuts and bruises because Vader was throwing shit at him. Not to mention all we’ve seen was John’s hands. Nice jumping to conclusions there Anon.

Finally I have a very hard time seeing John being excited for a scene that kills off Finn. Not to mention, they’re nearly done shooting and given JJ’s preference for shooting as chronologically as possible this is likely something at the end of the movie. That John is still this excited about it all makes it look like IX might treat Finn well. Obviously nothing is certain and JJ may still end up butchering Finn’s storyline as much as Rian did, but that John even dares to display this level of confidence this late in the game make it seem to me that we may get an Episode IX that’s worth watching.

Re: Yavin IV.

Here people are really beginning to pass of complete speculations as facts :/

Yes IX is currently shooting at Cardington Air Sheds which was used as the sound stage for the Rebel base in both ANH and RO because it’s the biggest damned sounds stage in the UK and they needed the cavernous feel of the big interior of the Massassi temple. All them being at Cardington means it that they need a huge freaking sound stage, which given that all we’ve heard is that the sake on IX is massive doesn’t sound unlikely for say a really big battle.

Also the shooting at Cardington is done by Vic which means it’s scenery shoots or big battle panoramas, which again fits with the only named actor being spotted at Cardington being Joonas, the Finnish guy who’s inside Chewie.

And everything we’ve heard from Kevin Smith’s visit to the IX set as well as a goodly assortment of rumors says that IX is huge even for Star Wars, that we’re looking at something at a heretofore unprecedented scale. So big panorama shots and overviews of a gigantic ground battle does not sound implausible. It may or may not involve Yavin but we don’t know either way, personally I think it doesn’t and it’s all about size :P (for once).

Re: Rose and Loan.

This one is purely on that Anon leaping to the assumption that she’s not important, especially as John said “the entire crew” and they automatically assumed that wouldn’t include her. I know there’s not been much reports on her, but lets be real it’s because both fandom and media couldn’t care less about her or any of the characters of color. Come on, the only reason we occasionally hear anything about John is that he’s the only one still on social media apart from Mark (who for the record appears to have a minuscule role in IX) because media and fandom could on the whole not give fewer shits about anyone who isn’t Rey or Kylo.

That said I finally managed to dig out a good source of info on Loan and her movements on twitter (for those interested it’s named @dailytranloan). Between that and my own Googlemancy this is what it looks like:

Loan was spotted on multiple occasions in London in August and September, i.e. while IX was shooting at Pinewood. She drops out of sight about the time where the shooting moved to Wadi Rum but we have no clue if she went with them or not. She was only spotted in London once after the return of the shooting to England and New Year, but have been confirmed seen (photo evidence) three times between New Year and today. 

So it looks like Rose may have a much bigger role in IX than anyone suspected and that she’s making it all the way to the end and beyond it.

I think that covers most of the things your anons have been throwing at you.

tl;dr John have been excited about IX since they started shooting, in fact before they started and his excitement and enthusiasm have only gone one way, up. If people are disinclined to trust him I’m not going to argue with them further but I’m beginning to believe that all those doomsday anons are not all in good faith and that a certain group of someones have begun trolling because it’s becoming increasingly clear that Finn is going to be the male lead in IX and be treated as such by the story. Which spells nothing but doom and judgement for a certain other character and we know how much they all only tolerate Finn when he’s safely ensconced as a side character.

I understand being worried about IX, damn bitch me too, but this constant cry of doom when we get something positive rings false to me.

Personally I’m going to take John’s word on it unless we get solid indications otherwise.

~Mod Mara

[rememberthattime]

Chapter 52. Finnish Lapland

I’m writing this introduction from our flight from London Gatwick. It is 6:14 AM. Cold and rainy. We’ve been up since 4, and even my few hours of sleep were interrupted by relentless coughing. I should feel tired and angry.

But instead I’m bursting with anticipation - like my body can’t handle the excitement (maybe that’s the reason for my cough?).

This is Chelsay and I’s first weekend trip, and as the plane makes its way to the runway, I’m remembering the #1 reason we moved back: accessible travel, starting with this weekend’s trip to the Finnish Lapland.

Our second round of European adventures began with this road trip to Nellim, Finland, an extremely remote town of 150 people tucked 250 miles into the Arctic Circle, just five miles from the Russian border.

However, before writing about our three days in Finland, I want to quickly cover our first three weeks in London.

I could talk about our return to Richmond Park, about our walks through Soho and the reminders of how “cool” London is, or about how we found our flat in Hampstead within 24 hours of arriving... All of that was great, but I really only want to write about one thing: Indy.

Yes, 12 year old Chelsay’s dream finally came true. As a kid, she’d tell her mom she was going to live in London (...she watched a lot of Mary Poppins). She would have a great job and a nice husband. But most importantly: she would have a border collie named Indiana Jones. This dream came true when Chels and I traveled up to Derby, England to visit a puppy litter. All of the puppies had chubby butts, but our little Indy was easy to spot: tail wagging, stomping over his puppy siblings, and already showing affection to his new parents. It was love at first site.

We won’t get to take little Indy home for a few more weeks, but that hasn’t slowed Chelsay’s “puppy mom” obsession. We bought his crate and fence on the ride home from Derby. We’ve been watching hours of dog training videos on YouTube. I’m receiving dozens of texts each day with the same puppy picture. ...Who am I kidding though? I’m just as much of an obsessed “puppy dad”.

That one Indy story means you’re caught up on our first three weeks in London. Back to our first trip.

There’s always a buzz when you’re going somewhere new, and that’s especially true in Europe. Every country is so accessible yet so unique. Spain is nothing like Sweden nor Morocco. They’re all just three hours away, but might as well be on different planets.

This was proven true as our plane descended into Finland. The landscape was whiter than a Dave Mathews concert. Snow everywhere. No patches of civilization, just patches of evergreen forests covered in more white. We took off in metropolitan London and landed literally in the Arctic Circle.

If this was evident on the flight in, it became especially clear as we left the airport. I asked our rental agent for the car keys and he looked back at me as if it were obvious: “They’re in the car - I started it 30 minutes ago.”

As we stepped out the airport doors, I realized why this should’ve been obvious — and also why his directions to the car were so emphatic. Everything was frozen, including the car had he not started it earlier. Chelsay and I would’ve been frozen too if we didn’t literally dive into the car.

After barely avoiding frostbite, my first thought upon hitting the road was “How can people survive here?” It’s just snow, ice, and sub-zero temperatures for months!

But the Finnish rightly play up their winter wonderland. In fact, it’s close enough to the North Pole that Lapland claims to be the Home of Santa. Yes, of all the places in the entire world, Santa chose Rovaniemi, Finland to set up shop. What an honor.

After a brief stop at Santa’s offices, we hit the road for our four-hour drive to Nellim. This place is remote, and that was exactly the intention. My two goals for the trip were (1) to see the Northern Lights and (2) to walk through snowy, silent Finish forests. Heading as far into Lapland as possible gave us the best chances for both.

The drive was a breeze: we had studded tires for the icy roads, and a James Acaster audiobook for entertainment. Plus the landscape kept us in awe - tall spruce forests lined the roadway and the black concrete was covered in ice, loose snow whipping around in the wind.

We were conscious of daylight on our drive up. In winter, the sun technically rises at 9:30 AM and sets at 3 PM. I say “technically” because there is actually far more daylight thanks to Nautical and Civil twilight, two things I’d never heard of before this trip. Given Lapland’s latitude, sunrise and sunset last about two hours each — rather than have a defined light time and dark time, Finnish days are just caught in perpetual semi-visibility... In addition to being “Home to Santa”, Lapland is apparently also the Twilight Zone.

Stop it Mike.

Anyway, we arrived at Nellim Wilderness Resort after sunset and nautical twilight and civil twilight and any other twilight. It was dark, but there were still a few activities available our first evening.

First, our resort had an illuminated sled hill. We didn’t know about the sledding beforehand, but once we’d seen it, Chelsay and I couldn’t resist.

Our riding styles were absolutely on brand: Chelsay laughed and screamed the entire way down (reminding me of our ride on The Mummy roller coaster at Universal Studios).

Meanwhile, I took sledding to an extreme by riding headfirst (likely breaking my ribs with what Chelsay called “The Salmon Jump”), then later trying to surf down (likely breaking my back with what Chelsay called “The Concussion Tumble”).

We were in the right country to recover from our (my) frigid falls, because the Finns love a hot sauna. In fact, they invented it! 1000 years ago, some Viking named Olaf probably tried that sled-surf thing, and a smoky sauna was his novel therapy!

Luckily the resort’s saunas were private, because similar to sled-surfing, I introduced a new twist to an old tradition: no one in the history of saunas has ever sweat as much as I did. Olaf included.

Outside of sledding and saunas, the other big nighttime activity in Lapland is searching for the Aurora Borealis. The Northern Lights are fairly common this time of year: about 50/50. The problem was the weather was due to be overcast & snowing throughout, so Chelsay and I came in with zero expectation.

We mentioned this to the receptionist at Nellim, but she wasn’t giving up hope. She said to keep our eyes peeled for stars: if you can see the stars, there’s a break in the clouds and a chance to see the Aurora. It didn’t hurt that our room was 50% window.

Just as the receptionist predicted, we saw stars from about 10:30 to midnight. Staring out felt like being on a hunt, eyes dashing from one side of the sky to the other in hopes of seeing a green flash. Eventually I fell asleep, but the resort offers an Aurora alarm in case the lights appear.

Unfortunately there were no alarms either night.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed - the Northern Lights were one of the main reasons for visiting, and the brief star sightings provided a cruel tease of unwarranted hope. But the Aurora is just weather after all, and as the sun rose the next day, we remembered how cool it was to be in Nellim, Finland. Plus, the flip side of this snowy cloud cover was a clean and white-coated winter wonderland.

The fresh snow was perfect for our first activity of the day: dog sledding. These huskies were dying to get out and run, and I’ll never forget their excited gallop as we burst through the trees onto an open, frozen lake.

Chelsay and I switched off as driver, both flirting with danger. Chelsay nearly led us into Russia, while I ghost rode the sled. If you’re not familiar with ghost riding, it’s where you hop out of a moving (now driverless) vehicle and run beside it. Based on the look in our dogs’ eyes, I’m not sure they’d seen this before.

After the morning excitement, Chelsay and I had earned extra whipped cream on our hot chocolates. I’ll briefly mention the dining, which we both surprisingly enjoyed. Finnish food is not traditionally exciting (a lot of lingonberry and reindeer), but the Wilderness Resort came through for each meal: tasty lamb shanks, potatoes gratin, mushroom risotto, panna cotta, and more. And obviously a lot of hot chocolate.

We regained enough energy over lunch for our afternoon activity: snow shoeing. We planned to be out for a few hours, so bundled up in three layers of everything: socks, leggings, sweaters. We even doubled up on gloves.

Now insulated from the sub zero temperatures, we were motoring around the quiet, empty wilderness in no time. Nothing but clean snow and creaky timber for miles. Chelsay said it reminded her of the land of swirly twirly gumdrops from Elf: “Byeee Buddyyyy”

We climbed up hills, slid down slopes, trekked across frozen lakes, forged our own paths through the deep snow, and tracked the only other footprints we could find: wolf and reindeer.

Just as the sun was setting (at 3 PM), Chelsay and I stumbled into a peaceful and perfect grove. It was a beautiful setting and the most memorable moments I’ll take from the trip.

The evergreen branches were coated in snowy white clumps, the crisp air was cold in our chests, and the only sound we could hear was crunch... crunch... crunch... as we gently shuffled across the deep snow.

We returned to our room with that “exhausted but content” feeling. Our quads were burning but we’d accomplished what we came for.

That night, we enjoyed another remedial sauna - this one was somehow sweatier than the last. We didn’t have any energy or unbroken bones left for sledding that night, so we instead stayed in our room and watched Parasite (great movie) while sipping hot chocolate. I doubt I’ll remember what JOMO meant when I read this in 20 years, but this night describes it well.

We were making the long drive back to Rovaniemi around lunch the next day, but had plenty of time for morning walk. This time we attempted to go without snow shoes, but quickly realized that walking through deep snow is hard! Your feet sink with every step, and you have to contort your legs up & out of the snow to make any progress.

Chelsay compared it to the Sahara, except instead of sinking ankle-deep in sand, we were literally waist-deep. Luckily we persevered long enough to stumble across a pack of reindeer.

With our quads burning, we figured the reindeer sighting was a good enough cap to our Lapland adventure. Sure, I wish we’d seen the Northern Lights, but Chelsay and I are still very content with our first trip back in Europe.

I say that without any doubt. Rewinding to our flight from London: Lapland’s frozen landscapes exceeded the “new city” excitement I felt as our departing plane rolled toward the runway.

Lapland is a different planet: part winter wonderland, part uninhabitable wasteland. Its frigid wilderness is unlike any of the previous places we’ve visited, but the craziest part is that it was all so easily accessible. Chelsay and I were 250 miles into the Arctic Circle, literally a short walk into Russia’s northernmost territories, yet remained just a three hour flight from London.

That’s why we moved back: because every trip Chelsay and I take has the potential to bring us somewhere new, special, and completely different from anywhere we’ve ever been.

I can’t wait for our next departing plane to roll its way to the runway.

[qisnutz]

Raua Needmine

APH Rare Pair Week, day 2

Prompt: Music

Characters: Estonia & Finland (OCs).

Kalju Salumäe (Estonia) belongs to @brothuania, Jaakko Järvelä (Finland) belongs to me. Also available on ao3. Enjoy! c:

"Jaakuke, have you made any plans for the evening already?"

Mua paholainen vaanii joka kulman takana, missä vain mä kuljen, kuiskii kieli katala. Sen silmät mua katsoo olutlasin pohjalla; sen hymyilevän huomaan vieraan tytön huulilla.

The Finn had spent the entire day wearing nothing but checkered pajama bottoms, safely tucked in a huge blanket, devouring copious amounts of snacks, and binge listening to at least ten years old Finnish schlagers. In other words, he did not quite resemble someone who wanted to leave his safe nest for no good reason. Thick blond stubble on his cheeks and chin, reaching upper parts of his neck, clearly indicated that Jaakko had not shaved for about two days. A water jug, together with a few coffee pots, all empty, awaited being delivered to the dishwasher. The man was again in the doldrums he hadn't expected but was not shocked by in the slightest. At any rate, the last week was subtracted forcibly from his life.

Jaakko set aside his skull-shaped mug he was holding before he tentatively examined the Estonian now leaning against the doorframe with a difficult to read facial expression. He was certainly not in the mood, neither for riddles nor Kalju's stupid inquiring.

Mua paholainen vaanii joka kulman takana, minne vain mä kuljen, on tuo tunne mukana. Kaikenaikaa onneni on vaakalaudalla; jos se ei käy sisälle, se oottaa ovella...

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Trying to sound angry came to naught because the pinnacle of Jaakko's vocal possibilities at the moment was a slightly shaky, clearly exhausted undertone. To muster up a coherent reply was truly an accomplishment on the Finnish man's side and somewhere deep, Kalju was immensely proud of him.

"Not at all. I was just wondering whether you'd be willing to accompany me tonight somewhere." He paused, awaiting a reaction, though in vain. Not being one to give up easily, he continued. "It breaks my heart to see you in that miserable state, you know? I intend to drag you out from your depression cave."

Luoja auta, pidä kurissa! Kaidalla tiellä, poissa kiusauksista.  Luoja auta; vaikka tukista! Pidä mieli kirkkaana ja paita puhtaana.

Noble as it was, it couldn't work out, not according to a rough draft of the rest of the day Jaakko had sketched already in his head. His idea was not grand, not in the slightest, though it did not include leaving the bed. Let alone the entire house. It felt like all the demons he strived to avoid at all costs would get to him the moment his foot crossed the threshold. Something inside him twitched uncomfortably – that was not the desired scenario. In the end, his place was here, namely among cushions, blankets, woolen socks, cozy clothes, and vintage music with lyrics he knew by heart. And his beloved black dog by his side. Musti nestled himself comfortably in his owner's lap as he awaited caresses and promises he's a good boy.

"Not going to say anything? At all? Don't make me take your silence for consent."

"Voi ei..." Short and to-point, as always. Jaakko was not a particularly exhaustive interlocutor, at least not before a few shots of vodka sent him on a self-discovery trip to his inner source of endless, often one side-centered, chatter. His lips formed a thin, tightly sealed line as if he feared to slip out any more words. He wasn't really in the mood to start getting ready or, God forbid, actually socialize with real people. In the stubbornness contest between the two of them, however, there was no clear winning and losing side division, and this could mean only one thing.

"Jaakuke. Palun."

"Tä?" *

"I promise you won't regret going with me. It means a lot to me, and I want you to be present there. Please, kullake. It'll be fun."

Tuo varjo aina auringosta osan piilottaa, kauneimpiinkin uniin siipinensä liihottaa. Tänään kuljen hymyillen vaan tiedä tulevaa, pelimme kun etenee vain päivä kerrallaan.

Jaakko's hand kept brushing Musti's fur lazily, almost nonchalantly. Much like his favorite human, the dog wasn't up to changing the position. Several raindrops, first signs of the incoming rain, hit up against the windows. The weather acted on his advantage, giving him more reasons why he would stay home.

"I can't go out. It's raining, can't you hear that?"

"The rain won’t kill you. It's just a drizzle, and we have umbrellas. Come."

The singer's warm and soothing voice was slowly lulling him to sleep as if this depression nap he took earlier today wasn't enough.

Mua paholainen vaanii joka kulman takana, minne vain mä kuljen on tuo tun--

Suddenly, the music stopped. Unsure what happened and what to blame for that intrusion, the Finnish man frowned, suspiciously puzzling around. In the meantime, Kalju casually locked his phone and slid it into the back pocket of his pants, unbothered by future Jaakko's reactions. Truly, any response would be cordially welcome. As of late he wasn't receiving many of those.

"How the fuck-- did you do that, the laptop's on the desk, and--"

"Jaakuke, I can use the mobile app to navigate Spotify on a desktop. The future is now. Come on, get dressed, shave this thicket off your face, or just trim it at least, and get in the car with me. I'm going to be pestering you until you agree, take my word for it."

The Spotify-related revelation caused the Finn to gape in an utmost unflattering fashion, but soon enough it dawned on him it was, in fact, possible. How could that slip his mind? His glance met Kalju's eyes, gentle, strangely encouraging. Much as he appreciated the thought and his boyfriend's diligence in pursuit of the goal, the Finn still didn't quite feel the urge to abandon his safe hideout.

"I promise we'll get some booze on the way back home," the Estonian resorted to bargaining, hoping for reaching a potential agreement. When the alcohol came to play, it was always much easier to convince the other man to cooperate. This method had proven to be effective many times before, and Kalju sincerely hoped it would work today too. He couldn't bear the sight of his loved one being this miserable for a few consecutive days. "We can refill the snacks drawer, too. And we'll binge watch a Netflix show of your choice."

Jaakko was as confused as unhappy with this turn of events, but he had no strength to further argue with the other man. Kalju simply knew his strengths and weaknesses and on top of that, knew how to make a successful bait. Gently shoving Musti off his lap, he proceeded to untangle the blankets tied in the likeness of a Gordian knot. Once he was free from the bed trap, the Finn sat on the verge of the mattress and dragged hands down his face.

"No niin, mennään nyt,**" he mumbled, sniffing himself and flinched with disgust. "I might be in need of a shower though, so you have to give me some extra time."

"You can have all of it. Almost, because we have to make it to our destination before six and it's reaching half past four."

"I don't even know what to wear," Jaakko complained. The entire room resembled a battlefield and, in a metaphorical sense, functioned as one during the past six days. No matter how often Kalju would clean it up, the mess would return double as intense. But having endless patience for the Finn made it much easier to cope with continuous cleaning. "I haven't done the laundry in so long..." 

"This is why you're lucky to have me. I've prepared and ironed an outfit for you already. It's waiting for you in the wardrobe. All you have to do now is just get ready. I'll be waiting for you in the living room."

All the witty replies seemed to have abandoned his head. There was no use in fighting that statement, and Jaakko knew all too well Kalju was right. A short nod followed by an attempt at a weak smile had to work as thanks. But what would make the Estonian truly happy was the Finn lumbering to the bathroom, and Jaakko decided it won't hurt to comply with this humble request. Maybe some soap and running water will help cleanse his mind at least a bit. A small sauna session when they're back would be lovely, too... Nothing clears your mind better than steam and sweat

"There. Where are we even going? I haven't worn this shirt in ages. It almost feels weird."

 Jaakko looked much better with his small beard nicely trimmed, clean, combed hair, and in a more decent attire than pajamas that had long since outlived their glory days, even if said shirt looked like someone had forcibly removed it from the eighties and placed in a wrong century. The full outfit contained a jacket as well, but Jaakko casually ignored it. Shifting from foot to foot, he awaited commentary.

 "Well, judging by the look of it, I'm inclined to believe that," Kalju chuckled, much to the other man's embarrassment. "Last time I wore a shirt like that was about fifteen years ago."

 "I'm here to remind you that it was you who picked it for me to wear tonight."

 "Because the rest looked even worse."

 "Look, if you keep roasting me, it's still possible for me to go back to bed and I will not hesitate before doing that."

 "Sorry, you look great. It compliments your eyes. The shirt itself might not be the latest vogue, but somehow you two make a great team. Chin up, Jaakuke. Are we ready to leave now?"

 "Yeah, I suppose. Can you explain why all that fuss is necessary? I could just wear a T-shirt."

 "Of course you could," the Estonian agreed. "but I doubt you'd feel comfortable attracting all the disapproving glances of people present there. We go to a place where the dress code is in force."

 "Namely where?"

 "It's a surprise. I won't spoil it. Don't worry, you'll love it, or so I hope at least."

 All the following incoherent grunts and mutterings were silenced down by a kiss from Kalju who had gotten up and came up to Jaakko to grab him by hand and usher him to the car waiting outside. The Finnish man was still wary. Of course, he trusted his boyfriend would always wish only good things for him, but old habits die hard. Even sat in the front passenger seat he was feeling weirdly anxious about the unknown destination of their -- was a date a correct term for that? Neither of them seemed to be willing to resume a conversation from earlier, so Jaakko turned on the radio without asking. An Estonian song, lyrical and a bit melancholic, quickly replaced the silence between men in the vehicle. The thought that the tune was perfectly fit for current weather - the rain had picked up significantly - crossed Jaakko's mind as their car made its way through the streets of Tartu. He recognized several buildings they passed by, the stores, cafes that remembered their little cliché coffee evenings, tenements in front of which he stood as Kalju was taking a touristy picture of him.

One of the many university buildings was on the horizon. An unpleasant chill went down his spine at the mere recollection of returning to work tomorrow, as his sick leave lasted only until then.

He liked his job, all the young, open-minded people around him were hungry for knowledge, and he was more than willing to share his experience with them. He wasn't ready for social interaction yet, and working as a lecturer was an occupation that required a lot of it. Jaakko will have to grin and bear it for some time before he feels comfortable again.

A few other songs passed before the news report at five thirty. The speaker spoke fast Estonian, and even despite being nearly fluent in it, Jaakko had issues with understanding certain words. He would have to ask Kalju about those later, granted he remembers. The car stopped in the parking lot mid report about a piece of news on Estonian IDs. The engine stopped, so did the radio. The trip was over, and Jaakko had to become a person again, as opposed to a recluse with his head in the clouds. Fleeing from an actual downpour that developed during their car ride, both men hid inside a small but cozy white building.

 "Here we are. Do you recognize this place?"

 "Not really," the Finn replied according to the truth. He was unsure whether this answer will be satisfactory or a disappointment to the other man, but there was no use lying. Wet hair strands were glued to his forehead, he tucked them behind his ear and glanced around. "Where are we?"

"Can you wait a bit more? I'd love to show you around, but I can't now. We've arrived just in time. I must attend to something now. When I'm done dealing with that, I'll take care of you."

"So what you're saying is you dressed me up in those fancy clothes and dragged out of the house just to ditch me in a random place in Tartu, Estonia," Jaakko cocked his eyebrow and made a face. "I don't know a soul here, Kaljuke, why are you doing this to me?"

"Can you please relax for a bit? No one will talk to you there. We didn't invite any audience for tonight."

"We? Audience?" The Finn was startled. "Can I still retreat to the car?"

"Not at all. If this helps, you're not supposed to be on the stage. Not you, me."

Before Jaakko could ask at least one additional question, he realized Kalju was pulling him towards large frosted glass door. Behind it, seemingly endless rows of (indeed empty) chairs faced a stage with a few strangers on it. They were holding paper sheets and forming two rows, taller men standing in the back while shorter guys occupied the front. He'd have to be completely ignorant not to realize who they were and what they were about to do in a few. A shy warm feeling filled his heart.

 "I thought you quitted--"

Jaakko didn't finish the sentence because his interlocutor had suddenly gone missing. Shaking his head, he proceeded to take a seat in one of the front rows. Someone brought a drum and carried it until everyone was ready to start. Kalju wasn't present among the lined up men. Instead, he occupied an honorary place before them together with a blonde who seemed to be his good acquaintance. Making sure the microphone works just fine and smiling politely at a joke, as Jaakko assumed, the Estonian adopted a straight up position, visibly awaiting the right moment. He resembled a violin string, filled with pride and ready to be played by a skilled musician. They were puzzle pieces of something bigger, something noble. Part of the choir.

The man who brought the drum, hit it, therefore announcing the beginning of the spectacle. One row responded immediately, and the second joined after hearing the drum again. The low rumble turned up, masculine voices violently resonated in the hall. They were so loud Jaakko would hear them clearly if he sat in the last row and the audience was full. Closing his eyes, he let his mind absorb all the lyrics chanted by the choir. The perfectly synced machine had two outstanding performers, one of them being no one else but Kalju himself.

 Käisid kolme ilmaneitsit, taeva tütarta tulista, lüpsid maale rindasida, soo peale piimasida.

 He sunk into his seat and with a dreamy expression transferred himself into a part of his brain where the glass was still half full. The lyrics were grim, it's true, but he couldn't care less for that. It was a crucial part of his heritage, and Kalju's group paid respect to it.

Üks see lüpsis musta piima, sest sai rauda pehme’eda, teine valgeta valasi, sellest tehtud on teraksed, kolmas see veripunasta, sellest malmi ilma tulnud.

It's been a while since Jaakko felt that special. He could not remember when was the last time someone honored him that way. At this moment the only thing he wished for was a pair of those lips to linger on his own, to mark the line of his jaw, to whisper sweet nothings against his skin. He knew that if he peeked at Kalju now, particularly at his mouth, he would be damned. It was okay. There will be a lot of time for that once they return home.

'... oi Luoja, kuinka häntä mä rakastan.' ***

Some translations again:

* - What? (Huh?) ** - Alright, let's go now. *** - cheesy warning: oh God, how I love him

Songs mentioned: Marko Haavisto & Poutahaukat - Paha Vaanii Veljo Tormis - Raua Needmine

[robpalmertravels-blog]

Scandinavia continued

Towards the end of my time in Sweden, I found that with the lack of any short term goal my daily progress had slowed. As I rounded the northern Gulf of Bothania I sought to remedy this by committing to a Couchsurfing host on the 13th July, 1000km south in Helsinki. At the time it was 3rd July and I was leaving Luleå in northern Sweden. Having a relatable goal motivated me to push and maintain a good pace, something that, fortunately, was easily done in the northern reaches of Finland. As with its neighbour, the roads were gloriously free from traffic, even the most major roads had little to compare to an A road in England. Emboldened, I pursued these south. Hammering down the hard shoulder with the occasional lorry swooping past, I easily made 100km per day. I breezed past town after town in this fashion until all of a sudden the hard shoulder began to disappear into a network of diggers, rollers and churned earth. Two lanes became one and I found myself ducking and diving a series of traffic cones into and out of the traffic. With every duck into the road, I held my breath, ridiculing my arrogance. I was lucky that the Finnish drivers held some respect for cyclists (even one who was clearly beyond his remit) and passed me at a slow pace. Buzzing, as I have now come to call the practice of unforgıvıng drivers, is something that would occur more regularly as I moved south and away from the two-wheeled utopia that is Scandinavia. Once bitten and slightly shyer I retreated to the safety of smaller roads and wove my way onwards. On one particular evening, I stumbled, quite by chance, onto a shelter several miles outside of town that had my name written all over it. Of traditional Finnish build, with a pointed roof, it lay beside a wide lake, which lay quite still that evening. Poking my nose through the door, I had a raised fire pit in its centre and branch hugging the inner wall. Graffiti adorned its walls, a good sign, confirming it was widely used and therefore ok to crash in.

The days continued and having left the coastline behind at Oulu I was sailing through the sea of pines once again. The muggy days of the northern reaches dissipated into sunshine and growing heat. On the 11th July, this caught me out. Late in the afternoon, I stopped to check how far from Helsinki I lay. With around 170km to go, I had done well and would likely make it no problem by the 13th. With the latest of small towns now behind me I was aware that I needed to refill my water bottles. With my mouth beginning to dry I pulled up outside a house and called to a group of people sitting around a table outside. The call came back, ”you wanna beer”? With an agreeable shrug of shoulders, I sidled in. An old workers social club it felt a little like a village hall with a huge main room complete with a stage at one end and faded velvet sofas at the other. This left little room for much else, a small bedroom and living room attached to the kitchen comprised the rest. It was filled with a careful selection of memorabilia from my hosts past. (No doubt all following names are spelt incorrectly). Ante, who had passed me a beer no sooner than I had stumbled in, was a smiley and cheery sort of man, quick to laugh and faster to offer what he had. Food, coffee, beer and more beer. Walking through the house, I spied a headshot of a young man in a collared shirt with a pompadour hairstyle completed with a full-fat cowlick. Ante, as he proudly told me used to be a Teddy Boy, in the 1970’s revival. He showed me shoes with two-inch-thick soles and Edwardian embroidery. He explained the interest in the style of this post-war period. The other two in the group who had been seated outside when I arrived were Tina, an old friend of Ante’s who had at one point worked as a nurse in Guernsey and Pero, his brother in law. We got to talking as I cracked open the first beer, they found my novelty quite interesting and I, in turn, enjoyed the spontaneity of their company. It turned out that they were there to help Ante sort out the place for a party the next evening, to which I was readily told I was more than welcome. I hesitated, thinking of my commitments in Helsinki. Not wanting to take his hospitality for granted I fired off a message to my host asking if he would days postponement. With the all-clear given I was curıous to see where this would all go. Mucking in as well as I could, I helped them with the last of the cleaning.

As evening drew near and the beer flowed we moved from the veranda to the bottom of the garden and lit up a barbecue. As we were finishing up, they mentioned that they were going to use the sauna and saıd I was welcome to join. As the cool of the night was setting in this sounded to me like a ınspıred suggestion and a purifying cleanse after a few days on the road. To the Finns the Sauna is a national pastime, many homes have their own and they are used several times a week. Tucked away at the end of the garden was the little stone building that was the sauna. The paint of faded eggshell was visible over the hard stone of an interior that was propped up by worn beams and heated by a small wood-burning furnace. I had been told that the Finns are shy people and while that may be true, I couldn't say it extends to Sauna etıquette. Not beıng put off, I joined them. Appreciatıng doıng such things in good style, with every break we would step outside in our towels to cool wıth cigarettes and beers in hand. Sıgned off with a few glasses of brandy I slept deeply on a spare mattress in the main room of the house.

The followıng day contınued in much the same fashion. Roused with strong black coffee I helped where I could and moved my thıngs ınto the garden where ı would camp that evenıng. The trıckle people arrıvıng began ın the early afternoon wıth a compellıng collectıon of characters that looked to have walked dırectly out of the latter half of the 20th century. The fırst arrıvals had more than a whıff of agıng rockers about them, long greyıng haır hungover half hıd earıngs overlookıng battered leather jackets. The fırst ıntroduced hımself, ‘I'm Harry, but you can call me Hate’. The self-dubbed Hateful Harry was naturally an amıcalble sort of guy. He strode around, not as you mıght thınk ın leather boots but ınsead showcased the noble croc sandals ın all theır glory. Faır enough for a man in his 60 ́s! The musıc moved from rock and roll to blues, to old school Fınnısh punk wıth Hateful Harry hımself on the mıc. Thıs was quıte a new experıence for my ears. The hard-hitting abrasive style combıned wıth quıte alıen lıngusıtıcs of the language was a strange sound to me, to say the least. Chattıng away to a varıety of people they were a frıendly bunch who took no expetıon to my rather random presence there.

It seemed lıke the Punk band straıned other ears as well as mıne, by the tıme they fınıshed the majorıty of those remaınıng had collected on the veranda where conversatıon could be heard. As sılence came one of the rocker types adorned ın knee-length fur coat a thınnıng crop of pushed back blonde haır struck out on a guıtar and sung ın a johnny-cash-sort-of-way songs of Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewıs. He had a dıstınctıve sound but one frıend told me, ‘He can only sıng ın front of people when he's been drınkıng’’. Thıs added to the melancholy of the moment and as he droned away a versıon of Gene Vıncents ‘Be Bop a Lula’ fınshıng wıth, ‘sheeees my baby..’ that brought the nıght to ıts close

Goodbyes havıng been saıd I slıpped away at dawn the followıng morıng southbound for Helsınkı where I stayed for several days before sayıng goodbye to Scandınavıa.

[findiary]

June xx, 1943

America´s propaganda aimed for me is so weird.

He says that I´m still a rabbit, and rabbits shouldn´t hang out with carnivorous wolfs because they are dangerous to rabbits, too. I guess Germany is the wolf, but this doesn´t make sense because rabbits shouldn´t hang out with bears either. Sometimes he just rages at me.

Russia´s propaganda is just creepy. Once they interrupted a radio program that told about ghosts and afterlife by telling to the audience that they will soon personally find out is there afterlife. Sometimes he likes to declare me insane, tell me that I should be put into a straightjacket for life, and concludes that even Germany is afraid of me. He isn´t afraid of me! Or if he is he hides it very well.

England´s propaganda is clear and pretty boring, but he focuses on the essentials. It´s the most dangerous one of all of these because it´s sensible.

Germany´s propaganda tells about his greatness and victories even when he´s losing. My propaganda isn´t much better.

Previous - Next

More info:

- He says that I´m still a rabbit – For some reason Finland was usually a rabbit when animals personificated countries in these propaganda pieces.

- Once they interrupted a radio program that told about ghosts – There were different Soviet radio announcer that spread propaganda to Finland, but the most famous of them was called Moskovan Tiltu (Moscow´s Tiltu) in Finnish. Her real name wasn´t known back then (Aino Kallio). Not sure did she tell that thing about ghosts and straightjackets or was that someone else because all of them were called Tiltus. Usually they just told the soldiers run to the woods because otherwise they will be all killed.

They kind of had a good reason to be pissed off, though they sounded very similar already during the Winter War.

- England´s propaganda is clear and pretty boring – Moscow´s Tiltu´s English counterpart was called Lontoon Jenny (London´s Jenny). People were interested in her because they wondered is she really a Finn or just someone who speaks Finnish. Her identity is not known.

[notquitetolstoy]

Maria Jotuni - Huojuva talo (The Tottering House)

The first thing I ought to say is that this is probably one of the best novels I’ve ever read. I am both proud and a little sad to say that it was written by a Finnish writer/playwright Maria Jotuni in 1936, and published posthumously 20 years after the writers death in 1943 - proud because this truly amazing work was written by a fellow Finn, and sad because it was never translated. The major themes of this work - love, sacrifice, good and evil - are universal, and I personally think it’s a shame that only the Finns (and a few curiosities who speak our freaky language) are able to enjoy it. Nevertheless, I am going to write a few words about this novel, and why I loved it, so if you are 1) familiar with Finnish: Wonderful! You should read this post and then run to the book store or the library as fast as you can, get this book in your hands and read it with the speed of light like I did, 2) not familiar with Finnish: Maybe this novel could be a reason so start learning! Warning: I’ve heard it’s pretty painful, kind of like falling down stairs (which is what our language also sounds like according to some people), but those who manage it are unstoppable. All right, lets get started!

The Tottering House describes the life of a young woman named Lea, who is bright, independent and resourceful despite her modest upbringing. She has an alcoholic father who she loves and nurses like a child, a strict mother she seems to either despise or admire depending on how she has treated her husband, a baby-sister who she adores but doesn’t really understand because of their opposite personalities, and a grandfather who is her mentor and confidant when she’s a child. Their family is rather poor, at least in the 1930′s Finnish standards, but they get by with the help of Lea’s grandfather, who owns a general goods store. Lea has planned to apply for university as soon as she can, and wants to get an education so that she can provide for her family. This doesn’t really pan out, however, because her grandfather and father both pass away in a short period of time. Lea ends up applying for a regular office job, through which she meets her future husband - and tormentor - Eero.

Eero and Lea are married very quickly after their first encounter, and at the beginning Lea thinks her new husband is truly a good person, a real gentleman and a stable provider of the family. Sure, it seems a bit strange that she has to keep book of everything (and I mean everything!) she buys, and that her new husband grits his teeth in anger every time Lea asks him for money to buy groceries and other normal things for their home. Maybe Eero is just being extremely prudent, but making his wife eat cheaper food and in less amounts than he himself does, and making her feel worthless because she doesn’t have any money of her own (Eero forbids her from working in the office or anywhere else), sounds wrong even to our kindhearted heroine. Eero also starts to get short episodes of rage and violence, usually after talking about money, when he throws or brakes things or says something really degrading to his wife. Lea, however, is confident her husband is a good and loving person despite his manners, and believes he is just doing what is best for the family. Of course it turns out eventually that he is not.

Over the years Lea and Eero have three children, who Lea adores, but who Eero couldn’t give less about. Eero is mostly staying out late somewhere and with people Lea knows nothing about, or seducing the newest of the many maids (and Leas little sister) that go through their household over the years. They all fall victim to Eero’s charms, and to everyone else it seems quite clear what is happening between Eero and these women (and sometimes girls) except for Lea. She decides to keep believing in her husband and the home they build together, even though she realizes that their house and their life together is tottering pretty badly. Oh, and the episodes Eero had in the beginning turned physically violent towards Lea around the time their first child was born. He hits and strangles her, brakes her ribs, and even tries to drown her in a lake one time. On top of this, he is still vicious in his mental violence as well, trying to make her feel as worthless as he possibly can and ostracizing her from her family and friends. The only solace for Lea are her children for whom she can evidently endure anything - also, at this point she thinks of her husband more as a person who can’t really control himself and whom she has to care for, than anything else. She is prepared to sacrifice her own happiness for her children, who she believes need their father in their lives and who are financially supported by him. The children, however, are extremely fearful of their father and walk on eggshells their whole childhood, and eventually Eero starts using physical violence against them too. Lea desperately wants her children to see their father in a good light and love him, but she doesn’t realize it is impossible after they have witnessed what he has done to their mother for all those years.

This was a very truncated summary of the events in the novel, but this post is already longer than my Bachelor’s thesis so I’ll stop here. I shall not reveal the ending of the novel, but I will say that it is a happy one (or at least it offers some consolation for both Lea and her family, and the reader). This novel is not an easy read, and it really tears your heart apart at various points, so why on earth did I love it so much? First of all, the description of characters is phenomenal. Period. Lea is the embodiment of kindness and forgiveness, she’s a loving parent and a fateful spouse. She truly loves her husband, despite all the horrible things he does to her, and wants to make their relationship work at any cost. Her character and thoughts are discussed in great detail, and that’s probably the reason why Lea becomes so important to the reader from very early on. The things she has to endure and the sacrifices she has to make truly brake your heart to bits. However, for a modern-day person it can be hard to understand some of the logic behind Lea’s actions (or lack of them really) throughout the book: why didn’t Lea divorce her husband, why didn’t she inform the police about the beatings of herself and her children, why didn’t she just leave, and so on.. At first, I myself thought that Lea was being really naive believing in her husband’s lies, and that their marriage would work out. I was even a little bit annoyed at her impotence. However, I soon realized that she was actually fully financially dependent on Eero, she didn’t want her children to live without their father, and she truly loved her husband despite the things he did to her, and didn’t want him to get into trouble with the law. Also, in the 1930′s appearance was very important, and divorcing was thought of as something very shameful - a failure. And even though she didn’t want to show or admit it, Lea was probably very much afraid of her husband - for both her own and for her children’s sake. All of these things made me realize that leaving your home, financial support and someone you truly love, without any knowledge of the future, is extremely difficult, so it’s understandable why Lea couldn’t do it. However, I do believe that she should have left Eero, if not for herself, then for the children. I can’t even imagine how afraid they must have been for the health of thei mother and for themselves, and how that must have affected their whole later life. It is actually mentioned in the book that the oldest of the children was very reserved around other people, so the writer does acknowledge the impact their abusive father must have had on them, even though at that time domestic violence was tolerated to some extent and even thought of as normal. The description of domestic violence - both mental and physical - and how a person might react to it is very vivid, uncensored and real in this novel. It was actually noted by the grandson of the writer that some of the events in the novel are heavily influenced by the experiences of Maria Jotuni herself in her own marriage. This is not hard to believe, because the violent episodes of Eero are extremely well described, even down to facial expressions and noises he makes. Looking at Eero’s behavior, knowing what we know now about mental illnesses, he was probably sick just like Lea (and occasionally he himself) thought. However, in the 1930′s people knew next to nothing about mental illnesses, so getting treatment was impossible. Even though Eero is truly horrible to Lea in this novel, his episodes of deep melancholy and violent highs might be symptoms of the bipolar disorder for example, and because of this I do feel sorry for Eero as well. He was probably having quite bad, unsolvable problems with himself that he (and nobody else at that time) didn’t really understand. Lea, however, tried. I feel in a way this book is not only about a violent marriage, but also about coping with a mental illness, even if the writer didn’t know it back when she wrote it. It’s been over 80 years since this book was written, and the themes it discusses are still significant and easy to relate to. This is one of the reasons I think this book is truly amazing and so ahead of its time.

In summary I could say that this book is one of the best descriptions of coping with violence and an unstable person I have ever read. It also discusses quite pleasantly the many variants of a parent-child relationship. The main theme of the novel is the encounter of good and evil (or love and hate) in the form of Lea and Eero, and how the bad deeds of one person can effect so many - and on the other hand, how one good deed can heal so much. This book also reminds the reader how resilient people can be, and how far we are willing to bend for those we love. It’s a 10/10 for me, truly one of the best novels I’ve ever encountered.