Midsummer's Eve

I’m not such a big fan of parties, holidays and festivals but I do love Midsummer’s Eve. In Finland it is celebrated around summer solstice and even though the Catholic church associated it with John the Baptist at the beginning of the 5th century the traditions originating from Finnish pagan mythology and folklore are much stronger. Midsummer (or juhannus, in Finnish) isn’t really concidered a Christian festivity at all. Personally I find the folklore­ related feast very fascinating since it includes all kinds of ancient beliefs and spells. I’ve listed some of my favorite traditions that in my opinion are wonderful ways to honour Finland’s nightless and magical summer (which is quite cold and rainy right now but never mind that).

(It's not a bonfire, just a campfire. Just for clarity's sake.)

1)    Midsummer bonfire Bonfires are lit all around Finland throughout Midsummer night. Originally their purpose was to repel malicious spirits but they’ve also been associated with heliotheism. Fire can be set on shores or beaches but the most beautiful ones are floating on water: a ferry laden with wood can be set on fire and then launched. Flaming beacons in the middle of a quiet, dim lake slowly getting veiled by nightly mist look like a myth made real.

2)    Midsummer magic Yes, there are still quite a lot of people in Finland who practice a little magic every Midsummer’s Eve ­– including me. To be honest the charms are just for fun and most of them are performed in order to avail romantic intentions. To me the purpose of the charms isn’t the very point; I try to keep the traditions alive for my part and the idea of wandering in the lovely smelling forests and meadows collecting flowers the same way people used to do centuries ago is very enchanting. On the other hand I think charms are after all quite useless at Midsummer’s Eve, the night that already is full of magic by its very nature. Not that I’d actually believe in magic, I concider myself rather rational (at least 364 days a year).

3)    Stories As I’ve mentioned earlier I’m deeply in love with Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Midsummer seems to be an endless source for stories about fairies and curious events ­– no wonder why. When it comes to Finnish literature my absolute favourite is Tove Jansson’s Moominsummer Madness (The Swedish and Finnish names are so much better though).

Those are a few of my favourite things about the night at hand. I was planning to not to complain about no longer having a summer house but I think I’ll do it anyway. I’d like to sit on the porch and stare over the darkening lake; I’d like to go for a late night swim when it’s so quiet you can hear the world breathing; I’d like to read or perhaps write something in a drifting boat. However, it doesn’t make any sense to ponder that now – the summer house burned down after being hit by a lightning and there is no way to remedy that.

I bet it was quite a bonfire.

Namárië!

It shouldn’t be such a surprise.

In fact, there is nothing surprising about it. It’s natural. It’s life.

And yet I find it hard to believe. Slightly curious it might be since we all know the rules. The real surprise is, methinks, that the rules applied to him too.

I’m literally afraid to write about Sir Christopher Lee and the sad news we received today. There are so many clichés that can hardly be avoided when writing about something like this and I’m aware that everything I’ve got to say seems lame and vacuous. Perhaps there is no way to write something great and extraordinary about someone who was so great and extraordinary himself.

There is no other actor whose work I adore as much as I adore Lee’s. Talent and intelligence of that caliber are and will remain without an equal. Lee had great skills both in film and in music and his linguistic capacity was far beyond impressive. His mere voice was enough to make me fall in love with a film or the character he played and should I choose one sound to be the last one I hear that would probably be it. Those 93 years were a lifetime of art, skill and wondrous work that I’m proud to witness whether by watching a film or listening to a song.

Sir Christopher, my hat is off to you and for both your work and your life I applaud you.

Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Namárië!

Path of the Faëries

Should I be forced to choose one from among hundreds of enchanting mythological creatures my choice would be fairies.

I’m – always have been – deeply fascinated by fairies (or faëries, an old-fashioned spelling I really like). I find especially the British fairy folklore very interesting whether talking about ancient, Celtic-inspired and Arthurian myths or the later Elizabethan version popularized by William Shakespeare. In my case the Arthurian legends are yet to be explored but the overview seems wonderful. I’m more familiar with the Shakespearean version, especially the one presented in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, a play I truly adore. I think that piece of art is the very reason I began this text in the first place – the nights are getting brighter and warmer here in the north and that always makes me think about Puck, Titania and all those poor mortals.

Since I’m writing about fairies I feel forced to say something about J.R.R. Tolkien; he’s works after all are the ones that made me fall in love with elves and fairies in the first place. In my opinion the elves in The Lord of the Rings are quite different from the ones presented for instance in The Book of Lost Tales vol. I & II.  The elves in The Book of Lost Tales are a diminutive race, merely a shadow of the mighty folk they once were whereas in The Lord of the Rings they’re still a great and graceful yet fading people. Every once in a while I find myself 

nearly panicking when I realize how much there is to learn about elves in Tolkienian mythology only – not to even mention all the stuff I should read about British folklore in general! I’ll never be able to learn as much as I’d love to (especially since I’ve got some actual studying to do, too).

Why am I even writing this? There are others who have expressed the otherworldly beauty of faëries the way they deserve:

A king there was in days of old:

ere Men yet walked upon the mould
his power was reared in caverns' shade,
his hand was over glen and glade.
Of leaves his crown, his mantle green,
his silver lances long and keen;
the starlight in his shield was caught,
ere moon was made or sun was wrought.

                             J.R.R. Tolkien: The Lay of Leithian

PUCK
Fairy king, attend, and mark:
I do hear the morning lark.

OBERON
Then, my queen, in silence sad,
Trip we after the night's shade:
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wandering moon.

TITANIA

Come, my lord, and in our flight
Tell me how it came this night
That I sleeping here was found
With these mortals on the ground.

                             William Shakespeare: A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Svalbard

I’ve always been fascinated by H.C. Andersen’s story Snow Queen – the story is enchanting and the Snow Queen herself is a very puzzling character. One Saturday morning in January I was searching information about the story (I don’t even quite remember what it was I wanted to know) when I ran into an article according to which Snow Queen lived in Svalbard; this is what Andersen himself claimed. I googled Svalbard to see some pictures and half an hour later I booked flights. That’s where I was earlier this week, in a settlement called Longyearbyen, 78°13’ parallel north.

At the moment I’m slightly too confused to say anything about the days I spent there. The place was simply surreal, very plain and barren but uncommonly beautiful and dreamlike. Perhaps I’ll write more about that later, now I’m still trying to organize my thoughts about that otherworldly place.

A couple of things most on my mind right now:

1) Nature. It’s unbelievable. The temperature was -7°C and the sun was ridiculously bright. The light blue Greenland Sea seemed magical being surrounded by white mountains; the plane’s windows were covered in ice crystals when we were landing; the landscapes made me run out of words the first minute I saw them and still do. And no, I didn't see polar bears. It was still worth it.

2) Norwegians are nice. One thing that makes travelling alone so cool is that it’s much easier to start conversations with strangers. I chatted with a really nice Norwegian family (and the wonderful thing is that they kept on being nice after they heard I was Finnish which is quite surprising after the hockey game on Monday). Also, one night when I went to the lobby of the hostel I was staying in to have a cup of tea the kind receptionist told me I could have it for free if I didn’t tell anyone. How nice is that? Then again at Oslo airport I was trying to get rid of my Norwegian coins and went to a café. However, I had one crown too little and the wonderful waitress took the missing coin from their tip box. I really hope we here in Finland will be able to give travelers and tourists as nice experiences as the ones I got in Norway. I want to believe it’s possible if we just step up and stop being so grumpy.

3) Safety. In Svalbard people really respect each other’s space and property. In a place like that it’s easy to trust which is something I really value.

4) Library. It’s probably odd that I spent some time in Longyearbyen Library since I don’t know Norwegian (written Norwegian is surprisingly understandable if you speak Swedish, though). As I’ve brought up several times I love books and feel at home when I’m surrounded by them. To me visiting the library was more than natural. The Norwegian editions of J.R.R. Tolkien’s and C.S. Lewis’ books seem very beautiful.

Disconnection

I love my friends. That’s how simple it is. The brain twister is why I am totally incapable of expressing that.

Human beings are supposed to be able to communicate. To some (or most) people communicating is probably the most obvious and mundane thing to do. Is that the way you feel? Congratulations! To me communicating equals solving math puzzles and since I’m struggling with the simplest additions exchanging thoughts with another member of mankind is nothing but a fool’s errand. I just can’t do it.

Most of the time I feel – in the absence of a better expression – disconnected as if there were a huge gap between myself and other people. I’d love to share a simple, straightforward and sincere connection with someone, I’d love to be able to convey my thoughts as much as I’d love to understand the thoughts of the other person in the way they were meant to be understood. Why can’t I have that? Why do I so often find myself unintentionally insulting someone? Sometimes I just blurt out my weird opinions and views and end up regretting that in less than five minutes.

The other thing is that sometimes I simply don’t understand what people around me are talking about. I guess that is because most of my friends share faith in certain things I cannot believe in. It’s not that I don’t want to believe in those things, I do – I just don’t see how I could (thanks to the sarcastic cynic screaming in my head). Therefore I believe the gap will remain without a bridge, as unfortunate as it is.

Aurorae

You might be wondering whether I’m aware that there is nothing in these pictures. Don’t worry. I know they're black.

Should you be one of those who wield endless good will and eyes of an eagle (although I don’t know how well eagles can see colours) you might be able to see a dim, greenish area in these pictures. You don’t? Then my eyes are creating visions to please me. The reason why I’m posting these pathetic ‘photos’ (note the scornful tone) is that we had northern lights here last night. Here comes the great question: why am I in the city the one time aurorae can be seen in southern Finland? Due to massive light pollution the aurorae seemed quite dim but I’m nevertheless thrilled I saw them. I find it curious that I've lived 22 years in Finland, well above 60°0’ N and still haven’t seen northern lights until now.

Even though I like photographing I don’t know much about it. I’d love to be able to photograph stars, northern lights and that kind of things but I lack both the technical and the artistic skills.  I accept my limits but still want to mention a couple of excuses: a) the aurorae were dim because of the unnaturally bright lights in the town and b) these pictures were taken with a cellphone. Forgive me.

Since the pictures are as miserable as they are it might seem weird I’m putting them here in the first place. My absolutely cheesy and sentimental explanation is the following: What really matters isn't what the photos look like but the moment when I took them. As I said last night was the first time I saw aurorae and it felt so surreal that I thought I should have at least something to convince me the next morning that I actually saw them. It felt unbelievable. They were so beautiful and seemed like fleeting veils of light spreading pale emerald shine that alternated between haze and brightness. Seeing them was both strange and familiar; somehow I felt as if I had been looking at them all my life.

Yep. Sparklers. On a lark? Absolutely.

P.S. I was on the countryside the other weekend and spend a lot of time gazing at stars now that I still can – soon enough the nights will be too bright. I think I recognize at least Ursa Minor and Major, Perseus, Cassiopeia, Auriga, Corona Borealis, Boötes, Cepheus, Orion and the Pleiades. The only stars I think I know for sure are Sirius, Arcturus and Spica. I almost wish our summer nights were darker so that I could both see the stars and smell the wonderful scent of summer. (And pretend to be an elf. Laugh if you please.)

Falling water

I’m aware that coherency isn't really my greatest virtue as a writer but even with that remark being made the following text is remarkably random. Feel free to grow tired with this rambling.

I’m completely obsessed with waterfalls. Yes, waterfalls. I love them. They’re beautiful, mystical and wondrous to behold. They remain in the same place for ages and yet live in constant movement. The sound of falling water is as enchanting as are the foam and wavelets in the pool below. I regret to say I've only seen some small waterfalls and I guess they've been more like high rapids than actual falls. I’d love to go to Iceland, Italy or New Zealand (among dozen other places); as far as I know they've got wonderful falls there and at the moment my travel fever is practically impossible to handle. I should never type words such as 'Most beautiful waterfalls' in Google search box. Never.

As I've written several times more than actually would be necessary I love nature. I’m especially fond of water – I don’t fully understand why but that’s the way it’s always been. I adore lakes, rivers, fountains, brooks, seas, everything. There is something so deeply soothing about water that both seeing it and touching it seems to have a healing effect. One of my favourite things to do in summer is to go for a late night swim (in Finnish we have specific compound word for ‘swimming in the moonlight’, I guess that says something about us) in a lake located in some quiet woodland area. It’s unbelievably relaxing to float and look at the darkening sky, to feel the mist slowly rising from the water around you and to hear the voices of the night birds and the water itself. Those moments are, in my opinion, as close to magic as a simple human child can get.

As a suitably labyrinthine conclusion to the equally labyrinthine text I could say that to me water stands for harmony and healing whereas waterfalls stand furthermore for utmost beauty if not sacredness.