Marlow, tusen takk! So this sweet young thang in Bergen tried to seduce me
with her hellig bible. When it became apparent that wasn't having the desired
effect she brought out her multe jam and my gås was cooked!
Hehe.. yes some are.. Cosmic is excused. Sitting in the wheelchair with only one hand available, he is pre-occupied with his Norwegian wood. I'm not so sure. I think it's an American. Elg er moose og elk er hjort og hjortron er multe. De'ække greitt... lol...
Thanks for the story Reilly. Klatrer, gammal gubbe, globetrotter og glad i matglade damer... Lol...
Ron: Thanks! The last photos are not my own, but they are telling a lot about Finnskogen and it's story.
Nice thread, Marlow. I was in Trondheim at a math meeting in the summer of 1997 and the woods and fiords were beautiful. The olympic team gave us a demonstration of ski jumping that was thrilling to watch. The color was so magnificent that when I flew to Ireland after the meeting was over, the emerald isle seemed a little pale by comparison.
The woods that most blew me away in Norway were of a particular kind of tree out west, often lining the fjords, like these:
Not sure what type of tree, but in copses they seemed to glow. Walking through them was amazing - bright with filtered light, open to wandering, never impenetrable or dour, interesting vertical spaces, full of bird song. Strolling for 15 minutes could easily turn into a few hours. Felt like something from a storybook.
We saw so many awesome things in Norway. Next time I go back I hope to tour by bike - just one of those countries that begs to be taken slowly, and without engines. Will need good rain gear.
Marlow's photos are very similar to displays in the Skogsbruksmuseet in Elverum, and also in books of historical photos from Rendalen, where my father's family is from. In Hedmark, in fact, not far from the border with Sweden, which is where most of the wolves (and bears) live.
Kaisa Vilhuinen knew many poems similar to Kalevala, the result of an old oral storytelling tradition carried by rune songs. The tradition of the forest Finns was rooted in shamanism. Kaisa was at her time the best source researchers had at Finnskogen. She was from Röjdåfors in Sweden and is seen as one of the last tietäjä (the one who knows) at Finnskogen. She was known to be able to influence the forces/powers of nature and protect and cure both people and animals. Her teacher had been Puru Juhoin, a man with great shamanic powers. He said: "Never put a sword in the hand of a fool and never teach a person older than yourself. Through your powers you will be able to do both good and bad. Teach someone younger than yourself and do it secretly, if not, the power of the runes will be lost."
Ilmatar (the Virgin of the Air) descends to the waters. A pochard lays its eggs on her knee. The eggs break and the world is formed from their pieces. The mother of the water then gives birth to Väinämöinen. Sampsa Pellervoinen sows the forest trees. One of the trees, an oak, grows so large that it blots out both the sun and the moon. A tiny man rises from the sea and fells the giant oak. The sun and moon can shine once again.
Ilmatar The creation of the world
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Joukahainen challenges Väinämöinen to a contest of wisdom and is defeated. With his singing, Väinämöinen causes Joukahainen to sink into a swamp. In order to save himself, Joukahainen promises his sister' s hand in marriage to Väinämöinen. Upon learning of the bargain, the sister Aino mourns her fate and finally drowns herself.
Vainamoinen and Aino
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Väinämöinen searches the sea for Aino and catches her (she has been transformed into a fish) on his fishing hook. However, he loses her again and sets out to woo the maiden of Pohjola, the daughter of the North Farm. Meanwhile, eager for revenge, Joukahainen watches out for Väinämöinen on the way to Pohjola and shoots Väinämöinen's horse from underneath him as he rides across a river. Väinämöinen falls into the water and floats out to sea. There an eagle rescues him and carries him to Pohjola's shores. The mistress of Pohjola, Louhi, tends Väinämöinen until he recovers. In order to be able to return home, Väinämöinen promises that Ilmarinen the smith will forge a Sampo for Pohjola. The maiden of Pohjola, Louhi's daughter, is promised to the smith in return for the Sampo.
On his way home, Väinämöinen meets the maiden of Pohjola and asks her to marry him. She agrees on the condition that Väinämöinen carry out certain impossible tasks. While Väinämöinen carves a wooden boat, his axe slips and he receives a deep wound in his knee. He searchers for an expert blood-stauncher and finally finds an old man who stops the flow of blood by using magic incantations.
Using magic means, Väinämöinen sends the unwilling Ilmarinen to Pohjola. Ilmarinen forges the Sampo. Louhi shuts it inside a hill of rock. Ilmarinen is forced to return home without his promised bride.
Ilmarinen Crafts the Sampo
Credit: Akseli Gallen-Kallela
Lemminkäinen sets off to woo Kyllikki, a maiden of Saari Island. He makes merry with the other maidens and abducts Kyllikki. He later abandons her and leaves to woo the maiden of Pohjola. With his singing he bewitches the people of Pohjola to leave the farmhouse at North Farm. Only one person, a cowherd, does not fall under his spell.
Lemminkainen leaves for Pohjola
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Lemminkäinen asks Louhi for her daughter, but Louhi demands that he first hunt and kill the Demon's moose, then the Demon's fire-breathing gelding, and finally the swan in Tuonela River, which is the boundary between this world and the next. There the vengeful cowherd kills Lemminkäinen and throws his body into the river. Lemminkäinen's mother receives a sign of her son's death and goes out in search of him. She rakes the pieces of her son's body out of Tuonela River, puts them back together and brings her son back to life.
Hunting the magic moose
Credit: Vaino Hamalainen
Lemminkainen's mother anoints her son's body into life
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Väinämöinen begins to build a boat and visits Tuonela in order to ask for the magic spells need to finish it. He does not find them. He then seeks the missing spells from the stomach of the ancient wise man, Antero Vipunen, who has long been dead. He finds them and finishes his boat.
Vainamoinen builds a boat
Credit: Nicolai Kochergin
Väinämöinen sets off in his boat to woo the daughter of Pohjola, but she chooses instead Ilmarinen, the forger of the Sampo. Ilmarinen successfully performs the three impossible tasks set before him: he plows a field full of vipers, hunts down the bear of Tuonela and the wolf of Manala and finally fishes the Great Pike out of the Tuonela River. Louhi promises her daughter to Ilmarinen.
In Pohjola, preparations are made for the wedding and invitations are sent to all except Lemminkäinen. The groom and his folk arrive in Pohjola, and there is great feasting. Väinämöinen entertains the wedding guests with his singing. The bride and groom are given advice concerning marriage, and the bride bids farewell to her people and departs with Ilmarinen for Kalevala. There a banquet is also ready for the guests. Väinämöinen sings the praises of the wedding guests.
Vainamoinen sings to the beer
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Lemminkäinen shows up at the banquet in Pohjola uninvited, and demands food and drink. He is offered a tankard of beer filled with vipers. Lemminkäinen engages the master of Pohjola in a singing contest and a swordfight and kills him.
Lemminkäinen flees the people of Pohjola who are rising up in arms against him and hides on Saari Island, living among the maidens of the island until he is forced to flee once again, this time from the island's jealous menfolk. Lemminkäinen finds his home in ashes and his mother hiding in a cottage in the forest. Lemminkäinen sets out to seek revenge on Pohjola, but is forced to return home because a cold spell cast by the mistress of Pohjola has frozen his ships in the sea.
Lemminkainen meets his mother
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Lemminkainen struggles against the frost
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Brothers Untamo and Kalervo quarrel violently, Kalervo's troop is slain, and of his kin only his son Kullervo remains. Because of his superhuman powers, Kullervo fails in every task he is given. Untamo sells the boy to Ilmarinen as a serf. The wife of Ilmarinen send Kullervo out to be a cowherd and out of spite bakes a stone into the bread which is his only provisions. Kullervo breaks his knife on the stone while trying to cut the bread, and in revenge drives the cows into the swamp and brings home a pack of wild animals instead. The mistress, intending to milk the cows, is mauled to death. Kullervo flees. He finds his family in the forest, but hears that his sister has disappeared.
Ilmarinen Takes Kullervo into his House
Credit: Nicolai Kochergin
Ilmarinens wife and cow changed into a bear
Credit: Bjorn Landstrom
Kullervo's father sends him to pay the taxes. On his return trip, Kullervo unwittingly seduces his sister, who then drowns herself in the rapids upon discovering the truth. Kullervo sets out to seek revenge from Untamo. Having killed Untamo and his family, Kullervo returns home to find is own family dead. Kullervo commits suicide.
Ilmarinen mourns the death of his wife and decides to forge a woman of gold. The golden maiden remains, however, lifeless and cold. Väinämöinen warns the young people against worshipping gold.
Ilmarinen is rejected by the youngest daughter of Pohjola and carries her off in his sleigh. The girl reviles Ilmarinen and so offends him that he finally turns her into a seagull with his singing. Ilmarinen tells Väinämöinen of the wealth and prosperity that the Sampo has brought the people of Pohjola.
Väinämöinen, Ilmarinen and Lemminkäinen set out to steal the Sampo from Pohjola. In the course of the journey, their boat runs aground on the shoulders of a giant pike. Väinämöinen kills the pike and fashions a kantele from its jawbone. No one else is able to play the instrument, but Väinämöinen holds all living things spellbound with his playing.
Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen Go to Pohjola to Take the Sampo
Väinämöinen puts the people of Pohjola to sleep with his kantele playing and the Sampo is taken to the travellers' boat and rowed away. The people of Pohjola awaken and Louhi, the mistress of Pohjola, sends obstacles in the path of the raiders to hinder their escape. The seafarers survive, but the kantele falls into the sea. Louhi sets off in pursuit and transforms herself into a giant bird of prey. In the ensuing battle the Sampo is smashed and falls into the sea. Some of the fragments remain in the sea, but others wash ashore and bring Finland good fortune and prosperity. Louhi is left with only the worthless lid of the Sampo and an impoverished land.
Vainamoinen Plays the Kantele
Credit: Nicolai Kochergin
The Mistress of Pohjola Chases Vainamoinens Boat
Credit: Akseli Gallen-Kallela
In vain, Väinämöinen seeks the kantele which fell into the sea. He makes a new kantele from birchwood and his playing once again delights the whole of creation.
Vainamoinen Makes a New Kantele of Birch
Credit: Nicolai Kochergin
Louhi sends diseases to destroy the people of Kalevala, but Väinämöinen cures the sick. Louhi sends a bear to attack the Kalevala cattle, but Väinämöinen slays the bear. The people of Kalevala organize a bear-killing feast.
The mistress of Pohjola hides the sun and the moon inside a hill and steals the fire as well. Ukko, the supreme god, makes a new sun and moon by striking fire, but the fire falls to earth, into the belly of a giant fish. Väinämöinen asks Ilmarinen to go fishing with him. They catch the fish and place the fire in the service of humankind.
Ilmarinen forges a new sun and moon, but they do not shine. After battling the people of Pohjola, Väinämöinen returns to ask Ilmarinen to fashion a set of keys with which to release the sun and moon from Pohjola's mountain. While Ilmarinen is forging, Louhi sets the sun and moon free to return to their places in the sky.
The Hosts of Heaven set free
Credit: Nicolai Kochergin
Marjatta conceives a child from a whortleberry. Her baby boy is born in the forest, but soon disappears, to be found finally in a swamp. Väinämöinen condemns the fatherless child to death, but the child speaks out against the sentence and is christened King of Karelia. Väinämöinen departs in a copper boat with the prediction that he will be needed again someday to make a new Sampo for the people, to bring new light and play new songs.
Nitahå-Jussi is said to have been the last wanderer at Finnskogen. He knew the woods well and took a job where he found it, when he needed it. He lived and worked for a while in the US, but returned to Sweden to take over the farm after his father's death. Someone had illegally taken the farm and years of juridical trouble started. In the film "Finnskog and trollskap" we are following Jussi. The film made him "famous", as did the book that was written about him. The book carried his own name. He was still active as an old man - as you see from the picture. I think he's in his 80's. The film "Finnskog and trollskap" has finally reached dvd and is now to be bought. In that film I can also see my great grandfather on my father's side - Laurits - a man worth his own film.
Some of the quotes living after Jussi:
"These woods are my woods, though I do not own them."
"I'm following the bird-paths."
"There's a trick to solve everything." (Det er et knep ved alt)
Jeg aer i Finnskogen av Nord Amerika - the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. You would feel right at home here, Marlow. I'm visiting the old family farm, now owned by others :-(
They have let it go so maybe I can get it back cheaply.
My best wishes for you and the old family farm. Do you have any photos from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan? Be free to post them on this thread.
Edit.: Here's a picures I found on the web showing a lot of similarities between the two landscapes:
Michigan Upper Peninsula
Some differences: The Michigan peninsula has a great "coastal" line that you do not find at Finnskogen, where you have smaller lakes. And I think Finnskogen is generally more dominated by pine and spruce than the Michigan peninsula. The peninsula is as I can see extremely colour-rich in the autumn when the leaves change their ways - as seen from this picture:
Dan Andersson's first book (1914) - Kolarhistorier. Cost: Swedish kroner 1,-
Kolarhistorier (Charcoal Burner's Tales)
Joakim Thåström singing his song "Om Black Jim" - a song about Dan Andersson who died 32 years old from cyanid poisoning in a bed at room 11 at Hotel Hellman in Stockholm. Choose your hotel room with care when you get to Stockholm...
"In his youth Dan Andersson led a wandering life. He worked as woodsman, temperance lecturer, factory worker, and travelling salesman." At the age of 14, Andersson was by his father sent to the United States to explore possibilities for immigration. He worked there at his aunt and uncle's farm, but after eight months, his father asked him to return to Skattlösberg, Sweden.
Dan wrote a book about America - "Chi-Mo-Ka-Ma. Stories from Northern America." (Bonniers 1920).
This is how the book starts:
"I was still young the first time I met Charlie Day, alias Red Shadow, an Indian who had been given this name by the people from Rice Lake, a place near the center of the railway triangel Brainerd - Duluth - Beminji, just like in a big box, with the clear blue sky of Northern Minnesota as roof."
Dette er en fantastisk tråd, Marlow, og du har et godt øye.
As well as a refined sense of place. My pleasure to visit.
I climbed in YV in the eighties with a fellow from Eben Junction, MI. His family, the Laaksos, were Finns. He himself, Kelly, was just as small as a guy gets and looked dwarfed by his rack on El Cap. But he was a strong climber, just not wall-savvy.
"See ya to da U.P., eh?" was the sticker on his bumper. I met him in the C4 parking lot, you can BELIEVE IT OR NOT!
I'm standing by the river. It's late at night. I've been walking along the river, fishing, for many hours. The last hour I haven't caught a fish. Darkness is approaching. Colours are fading around me. Mist is starting to spread down the river. I can feel a cold breeze softly touching my cheek. The humming sound from the river is growing deeper. I'm standing in some kind of enthrallment. I'm filled with energy, connected, yet calm. I can sense, I can feel, all of this, and still not, since there is no sense of a separate I. The river flows and the river flows in me. I am the river.
It is the ephemeral things
that you carry with you:
the shadow of a bird’s wing
crossing the path in front of your foot
the smell of ice and frozen fruit of mountain-ash
an early autumn morning long ago, a word
spoken in the mist and wind
by an open fire
deep inside the moose-fields
It is the ephemeral things
that live inside you
and firmly hold a picture of yourself
and life - shimmering
like beaches reflected
in a flowing river
The Forest Finns brought with them many customs from Finland. Sauna, "svedjebruk" (slash-and-burn agriculture), a special kind of rye, the use of "never" from birch as material and so on.
The sauna was often the first building the forest Finns built and the sauna served as a multi purpose house.
The beginning of Urho Kekkonen's book describing the story ot the "Sauna":
"In the beginning was only a heap of rocks. They were heated, they were worshiped. Perhaps they were propitiated, perhaps they were appeased by having water cast upon them.
Rituals have always been an inherent part of the sauna. Once it had become an everyday bathing place, ceremonial uses remained: the bride was bathed in the sauna before the wedding.
The very earliest Finnish woodsmen used the sauna as a multiple purpose building, it was both dwelling and sauna. It could also be used for drying grain.
The first saunas were probably earthen saunas: a pit was dug in the ground and the rocks to be heated were heaped at the bottom. The sides of the pit were reinforced with tree trunks and eventually the entire construction began to rise out of the ground, with walls made of logs.
The functions of the sauna kept increasing: of course the sauna was for washing and bathing and laundring; but it was also a dispensary, where the old cupping women would draw the "evil blood" from the veins with their cupping horns, where painful muscles were massaged, where the children were born and the deceased laid out to be washed. Flax was dried in the sauna, hams and mutton were cured, and malt was dried. The sauna was the source of indispensable hot water. The water was warmed on the hot rocks, or in the hot-water cauldron.
The old saunas were often very large, 25 square meters up to 40 square meters. The door was at the gable end of the sauna and led directly into the sauna-room with it's earthen floor."...
Urho Kekkonen and the book Sauna
The Helsinki Yacht Club and Bar - Finntown/Butte - Montana - where the annual naming of St. Urho takes place... And: Yes, there are saunas in there :-) Posted by Mojede on the Finland thread.
Have you listened to the rivers in the night?
They speak of other things.
They send no laughter trickling over their sand bars,
hum no song about
girls' brown bodies
that glide outward at the bathing place
or wide meadows with their curlew-cries
or the ferryman who looks at the clouds
as he rows.
They speak of other things.
Things that are homeless in the day,
things that are Never and without words.
If you listen long to the rivers in the night,
it is at last as if your soul
is mysteriously remembering its future.
Otto Tyskeberget's great grandfather, Daniel Tyskeberget (1778-1856), was a legendary bear hunter at Finnskogen. He is known to have killed close to 100 bears. Daniel had a deep passion for bear hunting. Other words than passion could of course be used. Once a serious disease had reached Tyskeberget. But a bear had been seen in the area and Daniel wanted to hunt it down. His wife asked him to stay, but he couldn't. He left with his gun and didn't return until some weeks later. Two of his children had died. As the story goes - that was the only time Daniel was seen crying.
Bear hunting. A wounded bear.
Credit: A Lundholm
A bear claw left by Daniel
Daniel's gun - rebuilt from flintlock to percussion cap during his life-time.
I haven't read the book, but the article was great. TFPU!
When I grow old, climbing and firewood will be a part of my life. My mother calling out "Boys, now it's dinner..." from the house and the sound and rythm of my grandfather sawing and chopping firewood behind the barn is still part of my idea of everything being well, something stable and reliable in life. My grandfather died 35 years ago, but I'm still carrying the sound...
This is the saw that made the sound in the hands of my grandfather:
Cutting, chopping and stacking firewood was the only way for me to keep warm for several years. The toil is natural, and beneficial for the mind. As I think of my dream home for my later years, a fireplace and a wood chopping block are essential.
Ere the rosy morning brightens over Himmelmora's Crest,
See a dead man faring forth from Berga By:
And silent o'er the hillside they bear him to his rest,
Beneath the dawning grey, the chilly sky.
And their boots go heavy-heeled through the rose-bespattered
And heavy heads are bowed as tho' in prayer.
From the desert spaces' Need comes a Dreamer who is dead,
Through dewy meads that shine with flowers fair.
"He was strange and he was lonely," say the four dark
"And often lacked he resting-place and bread,"-
"Lo, a King!" say the roses - and are trodden down again -
"Lo, a King and a Dreamer that is dead!"-
"We are slow," say the bearers, "and mile on mile it seems,
Ever sultrier brows the day this morning tide." -
"Walk ye warily, speak softly," sigh the willows by the
"Maybe it is some flow'ret that has died."
But when thro' green Spring woodlands the pitch-black
Runs a silence through the morn-awakened fields,
And the West Wind stays to listen who it is such escort
Mid the roses, with such footsteps heavy-heeled.
"Tis but Olle, the musician," sigh the whispering forest
"For ended is his homeless day." -
"Oh, would I were a hurricane," replies the gentle breeze,
"I would pipe him on his journey all the way!"
Over ling and yellow marshes sway the dead man's stiffening
Sway wearily the sun's pale rays beneath:
But when evening's lovely coolness falls on bilberries and
Sounds the tramp again on Himmelmora Heath:
Tramp of four tired men, who in grief march home again,
With their heads bowed low as if in prayer.
But deep upon their track see the roses trampled back,
Through the dewy meads that shine with flowers fair.
"He is gone," say the bearers, "and his mother bides forlorn
In Torberga behind the poorhouse bars. -
"We are trampled 'neath your footsteps, with your heavy
shoes are torn,"
Cry the rose-buds, pointing to their scars.
"It is Death that has gone dancing over Himmelmora
Each tistle by the clover pasture moans:
"He has ground you all to garbage his clumsy boots beneath,
While he danced with the Dreamer's bones."
O'er the grass and the grey roof-tops like a whisper comes
With her few pale stars' wretched fire:
And East across the moorland to the tarn goes down a light,
Goes a song through the lily-sprinkled mire.
Far and wide the black storm thunders, and round the islet
Chant the waves of the desert spaces' Need:
O'er the dark and angry waters, lo, the night sounds call to
For a Dreamer, a Musician, lies dead.
It still exists old photos of Norwegian Forest Finns standing on their knees praying to the forest god Tapio before a hunt. They prayed and asked for permission to hunt - bearers of an old pagan natur-religion as they were.
"Tapio is a forest spirit or god, who figured prominently in the Kalevala. His wife is the goddess of the forest, Mielikki. He was the father of Annikki, Tellervo, Nyyrikki (the god of hunting), and Tuulikki. Tapio is imagined to have a beard of lichen and eyebrows of moss.
He lends his name in the form of Tapiola to:
(a) one of the major urban centres within the city of Espoo, outside of Helsinki; and
(b) an unincorporated community in the USA state of Michigan.
Jean Sibelius's tone-poem Tapiola (1926) is a depiction of the forest Tapio inhabits."
I envision a poodle (Tami-certified and tested) on a board, sacrificing his existence for the greater good by checking for undertow, equipped with transmitters to record currents, temps, etc., the gang gathered to watch the data on the computer set up on the tailgate...
By the Pupils of the Askel School under the direction of Elina Collected and Written Heikkinen School year 1927-1928
"Askel, as the eastern shore of Otter Lake is called, is strictly a Finnish settlement. It has a population of only 219 people divided among 34 families, but its history is a remarkable story of wilderness in America. It is this story of How the wild woods were changed into a promising farming community and how the foreign element was Americanized in the short period of 38 years. The Story is here set forth as put together by the Eighth grade civics class of Askel school in 1928.
The First Settlers
The first settlers who lived at Otter Lake were the French and the Indians. There is no accurate information of their existence here as they left before any of the present settlers came. There were however, ruins of log cabins and old pine stumps to show that the Finnish people were not the first to penetrate into this wilderness. With the cutting of the soft wood trees the French left, having no intentions of making their homes here, and settled elsewhere. Later, the Finnish people met some of them occasionally and were told how they had lived in log cabins at Otter Lake when there were yet Indians there. There is said to be in Chassell, a very old French women who claims to have been born at Otter Lake. At the northeastern end of Otter Lake, there is a large beech supposed to have been planted by a women now living in Houghton.
It was early in 1890 that a number of woodcutters at Bootjack near Torch Lake, who had recently come from Finland, heard of a fresh water lake rich in fish somewhere up the Sturgeon, not very far from Chassell. At once, two of these, named Peter Tauriainen and Enock Pyykkonen lured by the tale of fish, set out to investigate. They rowed up Portage lake to Chassell end then up the Sturgeon River. After some time they came to the forks of the Otter and the Sturgeon, and not knowing which branch to take they decided to camp at the fork overnight. They spent a rather lonely night by a bonfire. There was a dark deep forest on all sides and they heard the howling of wolves. In the morning they rowed up the Sturgeon and not finding a lake, they came back and went Otter. Soon they came to the lake they were looking for. It was all they had expected and more. Lying in a deep valley with dense forest around it and high hills and deep ravines on either side they found a very beautiful lake a bout 3 miles long and a mile wide. So pleased were they with its beauty, its abundance of fish, and its resemblance to the lake of Finland that they set back determined to get possession of the land near by. After some time they were pleased to find that the government was giving the land away as free homesteads to those who would make their homes there."
When I was a kid my grandfather made wooden cars for me and my brothers. We used to pull them around with a certain pride because they were large, well built and had wood-wheels that rolled quite well.
Carl Axel Gottlund (February 24, 1796, Ruotsinpyhtää – April 20, 1875, Helsinki) was a Finnish explorer, collector of folklore, historian, cultural politician, linguist, philologist, translator, writer, publisher and lecturer of Finnish language at the University of Helsinki. He was a colorful cultural personality and one of the central Finnish national awakeners and - later - one of the leading dissidents at the same time.
Gottlund pursued the creation on an autonomous Finnish territory from the Finn Forests on both sides of the Swedish-Norwegian border, with great economic and political independence.
Gottlund is commonly attributed with saving the folklore of the Forest Finns.
Carl Axel Gottlund
Finn Forests' autonomy in Central Scandinavia
"In 1817, Gottlund made an exploration trip to the Finnish-inhabited Dalarna area of Central Sweden, to collect Finnish folklore and other ethnographic data as well as genealogical information, the latter partly because he wanted to improve the social circumstances of the Forest Finns and to prevent Sweden from taking ownership of their land. He recorded total of about 50 Finnish language poems, songs and spells during this expedition.
In the summer of 1821, Gotlund launched another expedition to a Finnish-inhabited part of Sweden, this time covering the south-central Swedish area of Värmland. The expedition lasted until January 1822, after which Gottlund began acting as a political advocate on behalf of the Finnish population of Sweden. Among his accomplishments, Gotlund founded three congregations for the Forest Finns.
Furthermore, in 1821 starting Gottlund began pursuing the creation of an autonomous Finnish county called Fennia from the Finn Forests on both sides of the Swedish-Norwegian border, north and northeast from the modern-day Norwegian area of Oslo, with great economic and political independence. The tax border would have been removed and land ownership by Swedes and Norwegians would have been restricted. The Swedish-Norwegian border had not been properly established before 1751.
In attempts to have the Finnish population of Sweden Proper "Swedified" and assimilated into the mainstream Swedish society, the use of the Finnish language had become strictly prohibited in Sweden Proper in the mid-17th-century. However, Gottlund estimated that in the beginning of the 19th century the Central Scandinavian Finn Forests' areas which he had visited alone were still home to approximately 40'000 Finnish-speaking Finns, of whom about 14'000 lived in Värmland - this in addition to other Finns such as the Tornedalians and Kvens and their descendants and the Forest Finns in other parts of Sweden an Norway. It is estimated that "one of each five Swedes has their roots amongst the Forest Finns".
Eventually - however -, due to his political activism, Gottlund nearly became expelled from Sweden. He was banned from operating in Stockholm, and - amidst his lobbying and campaigning - he was finally exiled from Stockholm to Uppsala. In spite of this total political failure in the creation of the Central Scandinavian autonomous Finnish area, Gottlund had positive cultural influence on the Forest Finns and became a legendary, heroic character in the Finn Forests.
While still living in Uppsala and while attending the Uppsala University part-time, Gottlund began preparing an ambitious publication, Otava, aimed to become a Finnish literary monument. Otava was published in three parts between 1828 and 1832. It consisted of articles pertaining to linguistics, history, ethics, religion, folklore and poetry.
However, in Finland, Otava was not met with the type of enthusiasm which Gottlund had hoped for. The work was considered to favor too much the Savonian dialects of Finnish language, and it's mainly enlightenment-spirited contents were overshadowed by the current of romanticism which now had encaptured Finland, producing epics such as The Kalevala in 1835 and The Tales of Ensign Stål in 1848.
In 1831, Gottlund married Charlotta Augusta Brink. Over time, the two gave birth to total of 10 children together.
Some of the folklore poetry collected by Gottlund in the early 19th century was considered sexually too explicit to be published during his lifetime, and even until quite recently. Some poems collected by him stayed archived until 1997, when they became included in the book Suomen Kansan Vanhat Runot ("Old Poems of the Finnish People")."
"Daniel "Dan" Andersson was born April 6, 1888, in the school house in Skattlösberg, Grangärdesgatan parish (in current Ludvika), Dalarna, and died September 16, 1920, in Stockholm by cyanide poisoning. He was a Swedish author and poet. In 1893, five years old, he learned to read. 1896, at the age of eight, he got a violin, and learned to play by himself. He had three brothers. A sister Anna was born in 1892 but died six months later. Next sister who was born in 1899 was also named Anna, and was dedicated the poem "To My Sister" on his 18th birthday. Andersson set to music some of his own poems, including "To My Sister", "Jungman Jansson" and "Per Ols Per Erik." He was married June 19 1918 to småskollärarinnan Olga Turesson, sister of the troubadour Gunnar Turesson. Dan Andersson is in part seen as a proletarian writer, but his poetry is not limited to this genre. He sometimes wrote under the pseudonym Black Jim."
"Dan Andersson's poetry enjoys a broad popularity among the Swedish people because of its naturalist mysticism. In 2005, Sofia Karlsson recorded a new interpretation of Andersson's songs, which received a Grammy award in both Sweden and Denmark, but before this his poems had been sung by a number of artists, including the Hootenanny Singers, Love Explosion and Fred Åkerström. In 1988, at the centenary of Andersson's birth, Posten, the Swedish postal service, published two stamps in his honour. In Ludvika, a Dan Andersson week is celebrated the first week of every August. In Ludvika there is also a Dan Andersson museum, and a statue of him. A bust is also to be found at Järntorget in Gothenburg."
Dan Andersson statue - Jarntorget - Goteborg - Sweden
From log driving history - Log driving director Johs Johannesen, river - Glomma, writes (around 1870):
"Yes, the log drivers are an elite corps, chosen through many hundred years of natural selection. Only the most quick-witted and resilient are attracted to be log drivers, while other men have gone in other directions. Only the most vigorous have wanted this work, because only they have the ability - and this has been the case also with their sons. This way it has been for many generations and because of that we now have log drivers that in fastness, resilience and quick-wittedness are the best ones you can ever hope to find." (Source: Ragnvald Bødtker. Norwegian log driving history. 1860 to 1943)
To repeat the great Canadian video posted by MH2 earlier:
Rotna is a 110 km long river that flows through Finnskogen from two small lakes at Hof Finnskog (in Aasnes kommune, Norway) to the lake Mellanfryken close to Rottneros (in Sweden). The video shows places down the river: one of the lakes at Hof Finnskog (Norway), Svullrya (Norway), Lekvattnet (Sweden), Gräsmark (Sweden) and Fryksdalen close to Rottneros where the river ends in Mellanfryken.
Most of the pictures are from Sweden.
Music: Mando Diao - Strövtåg i Hembygden (poem/lyrics by Gustaf Fröding)
Thorstein Bergman - Omkring tiggaren från Luossa ('Round the begger from Luossa...) - Poem/lyrics: Dan Andersson
'Round The Begger From Luossa
From Luossa came a beggar singing to the village folk.
Round the watch fire they lingered while he sang
Songs of pilgrims and of beggars, song of wondrous, wondrous things
And of his yearning did he sing the whole night long
"There is something beyond mountains, beyond stars and all the blossoms,
Something, too, behind my song, behind this burning heart of mine
Listen — something goes and whispers, goes and lures me and beseeches
Come to us, for earth below is not the kingdom that is thine!"
I have listened to the lapping of waves upon the shore,
I have dreamed that the wildest seas were calm and still.
And in spirit I have hurried to that contourless land,
Where the dearest we have known we´ll know no more.
To a wild, eternal longing were we born of ash-pale mothers,
And from travail, anxious, painful, rose our first, our wailing cry
Were we tossed on plain and hillside, just to tumble round and frolic,
Then we played at elk and lion, beggar, God and butterfly.
Did I sit beside her, silent, she whose heart was as my own,
Did she tend our home with soft and gentle hands,
Loudly was my own heart shouting, "What you own there is not yours!"
And my spirit drove me onward to find peace.
What I love is lying yonder, lies concealed in dusky distance,
And my rightful way leads high to wonders there.
In this clamor I am tempted to beseech Him, "Lord, O Master,
Take all earth away, for own I will what no one, no one has
Join me, brother, beyond mountains with their still and cooling rivers,
Where the sea is slow to slumber in its peak-encircled bed.
Somewhere far beyond the heavens lies my home, have I my mother
In a gold-besprinkled vapor, in rose-tinted mantle clad.
May the black and brackish waters cool our cheeks with fever reddened,
May we be from life far distant where the morning is awake
Never was I one with this world, and unending tribulation
Suffered, restless, unbelieving, suffered from my burning heart.
On a seashore sown with cockles stands a gate with roses laden,
There in slumber, vagrants perish and all weary souls find peace.
Song is never heard resounding, viols never echo, ringing
Under arches where forever cherubs of salvation dwell.
It's not my own video. There's so many excellent bird photographers at the bird thread posting their own photos...
I find cranes to be deeply fascinating birds... their cries as from another world, another time... as a kid I loved to see them fly, hearing them cry... it was an experience that left me completely lost for a while...
An old man from Finnskogen was saved by a snuff box (Swedish Ettan)after falling into a bog hole where he was left alone for two days. It all started when he wanted to shoot a jay and was tempted to go deeper and deeper into the forest by the mocking birds. "Solung" is spoken here:
Fröding Det var dans bort i vägen, performed by Sven-Ingvars
There was dance on the road on a Saturday night,
over the vicin'ty the sound
of the game and the laughter was heard,
it was tjoh! there was jump! it was hey!
Nils Utterman, the fool and fiddlerman,
he played by the roadside,
for dudeli ! dudeli ! dey!
There was Bolla, the proud Takenegirlie,
she's beautiful, nice, but has nothing in her pocket,
she is eluding and fun and grand.
There was Kersti, the defiant, wand'ring & wild,
there was Finnbacka Britta and Kajsa and Tilda
and the stuck-up Marja in Brooks.
There was Petter from Toppsta
and Gusten from Hill,
they are boys with strength in their arms
who can lift a maiden high in the sky.
There was Flaxman at Croft
and Niklas in Svängen
and recruitee Pistol and Högvalta farmhand
and Cold-Johan from Skräddarebyn.
And they had like burning tow in their bodies,
as grasshoppers they jumped the Rejlandssteps,
and against stones they clicked their heels.
And coattails flapped, and aprons flew,
braids they jumped and the skirts swung around ,
and the music squealed and mewed.
In the thickets of birch trees
and alders and hazels
was whispering talk, it was tittle-tattle
among the darkening shadows there,
it was play, it was game among logs and rocks ,
it was cooing and cuddling under the shady branches
If you want me, well, you have me here!
Over the countryside laid the twinkling starbeuty night,
gleaming light shone over the rippling water
in the deciduostree-garlanded lake
there was a smell from clover in the flowering fields
and from resinous cones on spruce and pine,
which shaded the crests of the hills.
And a fox there joined in their frolicing song,
and a owl shouted uhu! from Brynbärsbråten,
and they didn't notice, they heard it not.
But uhu! the echo in Getberget brayed,
and in response to Nils Utterman's dudelidia !
came the dudeli! dudeli dey!
Morn morn, Marlow! I've been waiting to say that. ;-)
Finnskogen del Sur...
The Beaver was introduced to Tierra del Fuego in the 1950's in the misguided
belief that the fecund beasts would provide a new source of livelihood for
the natives. Sadly, Peronism and the dole were more attractive. Thanks
to the lack of predators the furry devils' population exploded much to the
detriment of the environment.
The Volvo Amazon is a mid-size car manufactured by Volvo Cars from 1956 to 1970 and introduced in the USA as the 122S at the New York International Auto Show in April 1959.
The Amazon shared both the wheelbase from its predecessor, the PV, as well as its tall posture and high H-point seating — while offering three model configurations: 2-door sedan, 4-door sedan and wagon. In 1959 Volvo provided front seat belts as standard equipment on all the cars, including the export models, becoming the world's first manufacturer to take this step — later becoming the first car featuring three-point seat belts.
When introduced, the car was called the Amason (with an 's'), which derives from the fierce female warriors of Greek mythology, the Amazons. Kreidler, German manufacturer of motorcycles had already registered the name, and the two companies agreed Volvo could only use the name domestically (i.e., within Sweden), modifying the spelling to Amazon. Subsequently, Volvo began its tri-digit nomenclature and the line became known as the 120 Series.
The Amazon was originally manufactured at Volvo's Lundby plant in Gothenburg and subsequently at the company's Torslandaverken, which began operating in 1964. By the end of production, 234,653 four-door models, 359,917 two-door models and 73,220 station wagons had been produced, 60% of them for export — for a total of 667,791 vehicles.
I suppose I would be remiss if I didn't talk about my old friend Oddvar.
He was born in a little village near Bergen. When he was about 3 his mum
was boiling the torsk water and he reached up and pulled the huge pot full
right onto his head. He had something like a dozen operations and even had
a few as an adult to relieve scar tensions. After that he was fearless.
He was a legend in Ballard and throughout the Seattle Police Dept. He had
a shop called British American Automotive. Now you may wonder, WTF? Well,
he raced Sprites so that was the start of that. Then he realized he couldn't
make a living on British cars, although any owner of a British car would
justifiably wonder why not. Anyway, he went to the Volvo factory mechanic's
course and started in on Volvos, partly because he got so sick of tracing
electrical faults in British cars. Anyway, he did quite well but he was a
a racer at heart and a thorough wildman. He loved going out late at night
and driving the Seattle PD crazy. They got him once or twice but only due
to weight of numbers. When he got his first BMW Cafe race bike they never had a chance.
One night he worked late and left to go home. His shop was on Shilshole Ave
just below Market St, the main drag in Ballard and down which the 17 Mai Parade
goes. Anyway, Shilshole takes a 45 turn just before Market and a sharp uphill.
Oddvar was fond of sitting at the shop and watching the light. When it would
turn yellow for the cross traffic he would haul ass. He would hit the uphill
at about 80 in one of his souped up Volvos, full-race mind you, and he would
get enough air to clear all four lanes of Market St. Then he would go home
and eat some torsk. This one night some drunk ran the light. The good
news is that Oddvar had enough air to clear the guy's hood and he loved to
tell how he looked down at the guy's saucer-sized eyeballs. The bad news
is there just happened to be a SPD cop car sitting at the light. Oddvar
pulled over immediately, as did the drunk. The cop let Oddvar go and wrote
the drunk up.
When Oddvar retired the Seattle Times ran a front page story about him. There
were hundreds of his faithful at the party, including a number of SPD.
That's a reilly great story. When there's a Norwegian in your Seattle story, it's no surprise to find a "bergenser" like Oddvar. People from the Bergen area are known for their extremely high level of self-confidence...
Self-confidence was also found deep inside the woods...
Superb log driving video, only Norwegian spoken, no texting in English.
If the log drivers could swim or not didn't matter, they were water rats...
The idea for the company came to Mr. Mitchen while he was exploring for shipwrecks in Lake Superior in the early 90's, after he had seen countless logs in his dives. The abundance of old logs, together with rising timber prices, convinced Mr. Mitchen that a forgotten treasure was waiting in the water.
The Water-Logged company pays Wisconsin one-third of the value of each log, based on the current market value of freshly cut timber. After a drying process that takes weeks, the old wood is cut and sold for much higher prices than new wood, sometimes 10 times as much. About a dozen kinds of trees are retrieved, including oak, maple, birch, elm, ash and pine. Birds-eye maple, with its iridescent grain, sells for as much as $80 a foot after being cut.
While most of the salvaged wood goes for furniture and craft work, some has been used to make stringed instruments, like a flat-topped acoustic guitar the company is giving to the country singer Johnny Cash.
The company's keenest hopes lie in finding wood for exquisite violins. A sample of 300-year-old maple has been analyzed by Joseph Nagyvary, a researcher and violin builder at Texas A&M University, who has compared it to the material used by Antonio Stradivari, who built the world's finest violins in the 17th and 18th centuries in Italy.
''I have not seen anything like this in modern times -- it's in the same ball park as a Stradivarius,'' said Mr. Nagyvary, whose research has indicated that Stradivari soaked his wood in water, which removed gums and resins. So it is possible that the lake water has cleansed the old wood in a similar way.
Nansen was multitalented. That's an excellent drawing.
You're a lucky man. Both the owner of the Nansen drawing and nearly eaten by a polar bear. Great luck twice in a lifetime. I guess you've been on a hard work to luck ratio of 50 to 50, while most men are on a 99 to 1 ratio. Maybe that's how life as art unfolds. ^^^^ ... if you work hard...
On this map you find Røros in the north where the blue lines meet and Oslo in the south (under the red spot Stopp). If you start from Oslo you will find Elverum where the blue line splits into two lines. North-west of Elverum you find Lillehammer and north-west of Lillehammer you find Jotunheimen.
South-east of Elverum you see Kirkenær. In the area east of Kirkenær and up north to Innbygda you find Finnskogen.
Here's a crap map (I can't see Finnskogen ;o)) to make Stefaren happy. You find Hov in the south-east, just west of Gjøvik, by the long great lake Randsfjorden. Randsfjorden is number four among the greatest Norwegian lakes. The greatest Norwegian lake you see a part of east of Randsfjorden - name: Mjøsa. Around Mjøsa you see two towns (red areas) with a name - Gjøvik and Hamar. In the northern end of Mjøsa you find Lillehammer (for some reason without name). You also find Lom in the north-western part of the map.
1 cup of water and 1 teaspoon of salt is boiled. Then 2 cups of flour is poured into the water. Oat or barley is used as flour for the motti. The flour should cover the surface of the water. The water will boil up in small "volcanoes". While you carefully move the flour into the "volcanoes" you should sing the first verse of «Vår Gud han er så fast en borg» ("Our God is a solid castle"), and then you should stir the water and flour until the flour is forming into small lumps the size of a fingernail. It you stir the water and flour too early, the motti will end up in big wet lumps. If you stir too late the motti will end up in small dry lumps. It’s said that a lazy cook will make good motti, or also that you can go out to the shed and cut pork for the motti while the motti is boiling. The motti is served with fried pork and liquid fat. What's left of the motti is used as a dessert with sour milk and sugar on.
Another traditional Norwegian dish is "rømmegrøt". Rømmegrøt is a summer food and is traditionally served with vannkringle and spekemat. Spekemat is either thinly sliced cured leg of lamb (fenalår) or marinated, cured ham (skinke). Sometimes flatbrød, a crisp, thin bread, is served instead of vannkringle.
Rommegrøt and spekemat
This is how "rømmegrøt" is made
2 cups sour cream
1 cup flour
1-1//2 cups milk
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
1/2 teaspoon salt
Bring sour cream and cream to a soft boil for 5 minutes. Sift and stir in 3 tablespoons flour - one spoon at a time. Keep at low heat while adding the remainder of the flour and milk intermittently.
After all is added, bring up to a boil on low heat and cook for an additional 5 minutes while stirring. This porridge/pudding is thin and light.
Ladle the rømmegrøt onto individual dinner plates or bowls. If you want to eat like a real Norwegian Viking, you have to sprinkle sugar and cinnamon on top of the pudding.
Wait, don't forget to put a smørøye (eye of butter - exact translation) - that is a dab of butter in the center of the sour cream pudding.
In a present commentary to Nansen's "In Northern Mists" the following is written about the relationship between the Sami people and Finns/Forest-Finns in Scandinavia:
Lapps are now generally known as ‘Sami’ or ‘Same’ [pronounced ‘Sar-mi’]. They are the same people who were named in the remote past ‘Finns’, [the “small (?) very mild Finns...” of Jordanes] or Procopius’s Scrithifini]. Nansen remarks that “Lapps are called ‘Finns,’ both in Old Norse and modern Norwegian...” It has been suggested that the Lapps may be unique among the present-day Arctic peoples in that they have remained in the same place in the Arctic since just after the last ice age. Their home has been the northern regions of Norway, Sweden and Finland, and the Kola Peninsula of Russia for a period of about eight thousand years.
The modern people known as Finns, inhabitants of Finland, are quite different. They are descended from a collection of tribes speaking similar languages of the ‘Finno-Ugric’ family - the same language which they passed to the Lapps and which is now spoken by them. This succession of land-hungry tribes probably arrived in the area of the eastern Baltic, Finland and Karelia around 100 B.C. to 100 A.D. and included the Estonians and Karelians. These peoples came from central Russia, and brought with them the ability to cultivate cereals. Those migrating to what is now Finland would have displaced small numbers of resident nomadic Lapps [Sami], who withdrew to the north. [‘Finnic Peoples’, Encyclopædia Britannica, Britannica (R) CD 99 Multimedia Edition (C) 1994-1999 Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.
The Kalevala has seen some great illustrators. One of them is Mud Mechev in a Russian edition from 1956. For those of us who are living among lakes in the northern forests these paintings look familiar even if we've never seen them before.
It's interesting to see how different Kalevala illustrators are giving their own interpretation colored by their own references and sensibilities. The characters are given a cartoonish look by some illustrators, some make them look like vikings, and some like ordinary people. Some dress them up in clothes from a time long gone and others in clothes from their own present time. Mechev is possibly the one I have seen who are best able to make them look like ordinary people from the time when the runes were told and sung. Though he has his own take on their clothes. It's seldom ordinary peoples everyday clothes.
In my view Mechev has an extraordinary ability to paint the landscape, the forest. He must know the area well.
Larin Paraske (December 27, 1833–January 3, 1904) was an Izhorian oral poet. She is considered a key figure in Finnish folk poetry and has been called the "Finnish Mnemosyne". Her frequent listeners included several romantic nationalist artists, such as Jean Sibelius, seeking inspiration from her interpretations of Kalevala, an epic poem compiled from Finnish folklore by Elias Lönnrot.
Paraske could recite over 32,000 verses of poetry, which made her an important source for Karelian culture. Her poems were written down by Adolf Neovius in the 1880s, and after several years of work, approximately 1200 poems, 1750 proverbs and 336 riddles were documented, along with several Finnic lamentations known as itkuvirsi, performed by crying and sobbing.
In 1936, sculptor Alpo Sailo created a statue of Paraske. It was planned for the Kalevala building, which however never realized, so the statue was erected in 1949 in the Hakasalmi park, off Mannerheimintie, in Helsinki. A street named after Paraske is located in Kaarela, a district of Helsinki. In 2004, Paraske placed 87th on Suuret suomalaiset, a vote arranged by YLE, the Finnish Broadcasting Company, to determine the "100 greatest Finns". Paraske is also one of the people on stamps of Finland.
Paraske was born as Paraskeva Nikitina, her official Russian name, in Lempaala, Northern Ingria. Her father Mikitta Mikitanpoika (1802–1851) was a landless peasant, a lampuoti, who rented a farm. Both of her parents were ethnic Izhorians. Paraske took on poetry at early age by memorizing all the poems known in the area, and creating many more herself. Her relatives, Timon Tarja and Kondrolan Maura, were also prolific poets. Paraske's father died in 1851 and her mother, Tatjana Vasilovna, had died three years earlier in 1848.
In 1853, Paraske married a peasant named Kaurila Teppananpoika, or Gavril Stepanov, from Vaskela village in Sakkola (later Metsäpirtti municipality) of Viipuri Province. Her husband was sickly and 20 years older than she was, but the marriage produced nine children during the years from 1855 to 1878. However, only three of them survived until adulthood. Besides her own children, Paraske cared for 50 orphans from St. Petersburg. Her life was hard as the livelihood of the family depended on her income. She was eventually widowed in 1888.
Paraske's life changed in 1887, when she came to the attention of the clergyman Adolf Neovius, who was documenting national folk poetry. Neovius recognized her talent and paid Paraske a ruble per hour for singing her poetry. With this money, Paraske was able to save her house from seizure. Their collaboration resulted in transcriptions of 1200 poems, 1750 proverbs and 336 riddles. Her poems had earlier been written down by A. Borenius-Lähteenkorva in 1877, but this work consisted of only 26 poems.
In 1891, Neovius moved to Porvoo and Paraske traveled to the city with him to complete their project. During the years from 1891 to 1894, she gave several performances in Porvoo and Helsinki, becoming very popular. Her often Kalevala-themed rune singing influenced several prominent artists. Jean Sibelius' Kullervo, Op. 7 has been said to contain elements of Paraske's hypnotic, incantatory singing style. Albert Edelfelt and Eero Järnefelt painted portraits of Paraske in 1893.
Paraske returned to Vaskela, Sakkola, in 1894. Despite her success, she remained poor. Her house was sold during the summer of 1899 due to tax arrears, and she had to move into her neighbour's sauna. The Finnish Literature Society granted Paraske an artist's pension in 1901, but she was unable to overcome her financial problems. She died destitute in Sakkola in 1904.
Hey Marlow nice pictures. I'm curious how most of them seem to have white fluffy clouds and blue skies. I've been to Norway three times and each time I get photos like this one of me on Preikestolen. Apparently the view is fantastic :)