UNDER THE NORTH STAR - I

Author: Väinö Linna
Year: 1988 (1959)
Publisher: Wahlström & Widstrand
Language: Swedish (Translator N-B Storbom)

In the quiet moments of reflection, one can still hear the echoes of the struggles of generations of the past reverberating through the annals of time. Theirs was a world cloaked in the shadow of hardship, where each dawn brought forth a new challenge to overcome and each dusk offered but a fleeting respite from the burdens they bore. Through the veil of adversity they found solace in the simplicity of their bonds, forged neither in gold nor in silver, but in shared despair and sacrifice.

No one has described these times better than the Swedish writer Vilhelm Moberg (see e.g. my review from October 2022), but there are a few who stand shoulder to shoulder with him. The Russian Maxim Gorky is one. The Finn Väinö Linna is another.

The first book in Väinö Linna's epic trilogy "Under the North Star," is “Högt bland Saarijärvis moar” (published in English under the same title as the whole trilogy*). It unfolds with a poignant scene as the stalwart farmhand Jussi receives permission from the local pastor to reclaim a desolate plot of marshland belonging to the parish and forge a new life upon it. Jussi’s journey is one of unparalleled hardship, matched only by his unyielding resolve as we follow him, his kin, and his community, through the tumultuous years of the beginning of the 20^th century.

I have long advocated the necessity for Swedes to immerse themselves in the rich universe of Finnish 20^th century literature, particularly the proletarian and post-war narratives. Such immersion not only grants us insight into the trials of our predecessors but also contextualises their struggles within the broader spectrum of our shared Nordic heritage. A Swedish reader of "Högt bland Saarijärvis moar" will no doubt recognise the echoes of the bygone plight of the Nordic peasants a century ago and the hard labour, oppressive landowners, disease, and the unrelenting scorn of the privileged elite.

But besides that, there were two dynamics in the reality of a Finnish farmhand, that would seem strange to a Swedish crofter from the same period: the tug-of-war between languages and the resistance against an foreign sovereign. Despite the dominance of Russian overlords, the Finnish upper echelons clung to the Swedish language as a symbol of status and education. In this era of societal upheaval, marking the advances of Socialism, Liberalism, Temperance, and the emancipation of women, the promotion of Finnish language, known as Suometarianism, emerged as a beacon of cultural identity. In Linna’s view, this was an upper-class project as the under-class did not really care if their abusers spoke Swedish, Russian or Finnish with one another.

Linna skilfully portrays this linguistic struggle through the whimsical exchanges of the pastor's la-di-da wife, whose insistence on Finnish discourse incites both hilarity and introspection. Although both she and her husband hail from the urban elite, and consequently speak Swedish better than Finnish, she insists on forcing the monolingually Swedish Baron to speak Finnish whenever conversing with them, and gives her and the pastor’s children classic Finnish names. In Chapter 5, her attempts to whip up indignation among the altogether indifferent labourers against the so-called February Manifest issued by Tsar Nicolai II which would transfer power from the reasonably autonomous Finland to Russia, result in several humorous encounters.

As a writer, Väinö Linna shows true mastery and his love for his homeland and its history shines through every character and every scene.  I furthermore find myself compelled to pay tribute to the translator whose Herculean task of rendering Linna’s carefully crafted working-class Finnish vernacular into Swedish deserves the highest commendation. Linna lets his characters converse in a provincial Finnish which is reproduced in a non-standardised semi-phonetic writing designed to convey the flavour of the language of the uneducated. The translator was himself a Swedish-speaking Finn and must have had to reach deep into the swedophone provinces of Finland and thereafter ruralise the language to obtain the right effect. His laborious efforts ensure that the essence of Finnishness remains intact, bridging cultures and allowing literature to transcend linguistic boundaries.

It is no wonder that “Högt bland Saarijärvis moar” has become a classic in Finnish literature. It is a testament to the indomitable spirit of those who toiled the earth and forged a nation through hardship and sacrifice. Their sweat may have long evaporated and tears dried, yet the echoes of their labour and the resonance of their laughter still reverberate through the majestic pine forests of Finland.

 

*The Finnish original assigns no individual titles to each part of the trilogy which is simply called Here, Under the North Star parts 1, 2, and 3, but the Swedish publisher named each part after the opening words of different famous poems.