Before there was a Finland, there was The Kalevala. This collection of ancient songs from the shamanic past slept in the hearts and souls of Finns in the land they call Suomi. For centuries, Suomi dreamed of itself through the icy overtones of a vibrating kantele string or the songs of two old ones, who sang face-to-face, grasping each other’s hand and shoulder, as they had learned from the old ones who went before them.
In the mid-nineteenth century, The Kalevala came to Finnish consciousness primarily through the collection efforts of a medical doctor, Elias Lönnrot. Lönnrot was stationed in the eastern and most isolated part of the Russian Grand Duchy of Finland, called the Kaleva District. He grew to love the old songs he found there, preserved out of reach of the encroachments of modern civilization. He noticed that the songs often shared the same characters, so he published these songs in the form of a single epic poem. This was in 1835 when the Finnish people suffered under Russian domination. The publication of The Kalevala was an important part of the awakening of the Finns, playing a key role in the revival of the Finnish language, which was under pressure from both Swedish and Russian. The revival of Finnish led to a greater identity as an autonomous people. This eventually led to nationhood and independence amid the turmoil of the 1917 Bolshevik revolution.
Before this awakening, Finnish mythical heroes were unknown, repressed by the Catholic Church of the Swedes and the Orthodox Church of the Russians. There was no Thor, no Freya, not even a Peter the Great or Catherine the Great. There was no Finland. As the yearning for a revival of the Finnish language grew, the knowledge of the heroes of The Kalevala grew. The sonorous names of these shamanic heroes of prehistory became part of the common language and many children are still named for them: steadfast old Väinämöinen, the lonely sage; his brother, Ilmarinen, the smith who forged the magic Sampo; Joukahainen, the celebrated minstrel of the Northland; Aino, the woman who stands alone, refusing to be married against her will; handsome, passionate, and arrogant Lemminkäinen; the sorceress Louhi, the mistress of the Northland; and many others. When Finns emigrated to America around the turn of the last century, these mythic heroes came with them.
The Kalevala has no overarching narrative structure and this novel is not a retelling of The Kalevala but rather a tale highly influenced by it. I’ve cut and combined many characters, the most painful being old Väinämöinen, who I combined with Ilmarinen, the smith, in the character Ilmari Koski.
For the sake of the story, I’ve condensed history in Finland somewhat. Russian troops were less a factor at the turn of the twentieth century than around the time of the World War I. Aino’s part of Finland was predominantly “white,” that is anticommunist, during the civil war that followed independence. As in most civil wars, atrocities were committed by both sides, leaving much bitterness. When I was a child in the 1950s, my grandmother, very much a “red,” wouldn’t allow me to play with children whose grandparents were whites.
I tried to set the novel in accurate history. Where I strayed, it was because of either my choice to sacrifice history for story or my ignorance. I apologize in advance to historians. The American setting is the southwestern corner of Washington state, where my Finnish relatives first settled in the 1890s and I spent much time as a child. The novel’s Deep River is based on the Naselle River. Tapiola is based on my childhood memories of the town of Naselle, then a thriving logging town, now long gone except for two churches, a grocery store, and a few houses. Nordland is inspired by Aberdeen, Washington, a town known in its day for wildness. Nordland is based on The Kalevala’s Pohjola, which means “the Northland.” It is a place of evil and darkness where the witch-woman shaman Louhi dwelled with her daughters. I’ve combined Raymond and South Bend, Washington, into the novel’s Willapa. There is a real Deep River just east of Naselle. I simply liked the name for my novel. My apologies to locals who would prefer historical accuracy to artistic license.