Words Without Borders, the online journal of literature in English translation, has published an issue devoted to contemporary Finnish literature, featuring interesting recent works by thirteen Finnish authors, including translations by myself and fellow FELT members Emily Jeremiah and Owen Witesman.
I have three pieces in the issue. One is an excerpt from my translation of Sofi Oksanen’s new novel When the Doves Disappeared, the third book in her planned Estonia-Finland quartet. When the Doves Disappeared is scheduled for publication in the US in 2015.
I highly recommend them.
I have a carpenter friend whose specialty is tearing down houses to make way for townhouses. Why have one house on a city lot when you can have three? During a recent job he found a locked suitcase under the rafters in the Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle. His coworkers wanted to break it open, but he knew I liked stuff like this so he saved it, and two days ago he gave it to me.
I googled ‘how to pick a briefcase lock’ and was basically getting nowhere when lolarusa suggested I be methodical. Try 001, 002, 003, etc., until it opens. I complained that there’s 1,000 possible combinations. “Well,” she said, “you only knit one stitch at a time, but when you’re done you have a sock.” Good point.
248. I went from 001 to 247, and when I hit 248 that lock popped open. This is what I found.
There were no clothes. It seemed to be a collection of precious possessions rather than a traveling bag. Dominating the contents was a locked wooden box.
Opening the lid section of the case revealed that the owner was a Freemason.
Tucked within the folds of the mason’s apron was the key I’d hoped for, the key to the wooden box. Within the box were old news clippings, a police report, biological specimens, an old journal, and a piece of unfired clay wrapped in coarse cloth.
The mason’s apron was owned by someone named Serene. The journal is by someone named Angell. The journal is all about weird happenings in the ’20s and ’30s, things that allegedly happened in Greenland, and New England, and Louisiana, and seem to be directly related to the clay sculpture, which is less than an inch thick, and perhaps five or six inches square.
I find the whole thing intriguing and disturbing, and confess that I don’t know what to make of it.
postscript: I’ve done my best to transcribe the journal, which you can read here.
They got arrested for making this video. Solidarity videos ensued.
Happy May Day one and all.
More information about Bread and Roses here.
For your springtime enjoyment, here are four songs from the 60s about playground equipment.
The Moody Blues: Ride My Seesaw
The Hollies: On a Carousel
The Beatles: Helter Skelter
Glen Campbell: Where’s the Playground, Susie?
Seems to have been a popular theme from ’67 to ’69. Can you think of any more?
It’s a novel about a quiet young Finnish student who is forced to share her train compartment with a drunken, tale-telling, self-proclaimed murderer as they cross the crumbling Soviet Union from Moscow to Ulan Bator.
Here are some reviews of the book in its various translations to date:
“The wild stories of the rough fellow passenger make this journey increasingly absurd, giddying and captivating… It is a stroke of genius to describe a country and give form to one’s mixed feelings for it through such a figure. ” Aftonbladet
“Melodic, rhythmic language, compressed, poetical and replete with fragrance and colour sensations… The girl and the man, this unlikely couple, accompany one another at the close across the plains as if progressing through a film by Andrej Tarkovskij.” – Svenska Dagbladet
“The outcome is both atmospheric and beautiful, an elegy to the Soviet Union and its people, the land where ‘unhappiness is perceived as happiness’.” – Helsingborgs Dagblad
It’s an ugly, beautiful book.
Available for pre-order from Serpent’s Tail or your favorite bookseller.
translated by Sasha Dugdale
Our sweet companions—sharing your bunk and your bed
The versts and the versts and the versts and a hunk of your bread
The wheels’ endless round
The rivers, streaming to ground
The road. . .
Oh the heavenly the Gypsy the early dawn light
Remember the breeze in the morning, the steppe silver-bright
Wisps of blue smoke from the rise
And the song of the wise
Gypsy czar. . .
In the dark midnight, under the ancient trees’ shroud
We gave you sons as perfect as night, sons
As poor as the night
And the nightingale chirred
Your might. . .
We never stopped you, companions for marvelous hours
Poverty’s passions, the impoverished meals we shared
The fierce bonfire’s glow
And there, on the carpet below,
Fell stars. . .
I’m sending my friend Jon Marcellus Wallace’s briefcase in the mail, but I’m not going to post this entry until after the briefcase has arrived. Here’s how I made did it.
Buy an ordinary briefcase at a second hand store.
Gut the lid.
Line the lid with 6 layers of gold cellophane. Lolarusa suggests omitting the cellophane, but I think it adds reflected color. It’s a toss up on whether this part is effective.
Battery pack w/eight AA batteries, some wire, 4 super bright LED bulbs, and 4 miniature sockets. When wiring, please note that the positive contact on a bulb and the positive contact on a socket is at the bottom, the negative contact for a bulb and socket is at the sides where the threads/grooves are. Oh, and buy a refrigerator switch, not pictured. The switch that turns the light bulb on when you open the fridge door. Costs around 5 USD.
Attach sockets to some sort of base. I used skewers & twist ties.
Lay out the contents of Marcellus Wallace’s briefcase. Secure the battery pack with velcro. Secure the base with tape.
Cut 3 lengths of red and 3 lengths of black wire, longer than you need them. Coil the wire around a pencil. The coil will produce tension, making electrical tape & solder unnecessary.
Connect all bulbs, positive to positive, negative to negative.
Make 4 gold cellophane socks to cover the bulbs. This adds the right color and stops you from blinding the recipient.
Connect to battery pack to test.
Connect the refrigerator switch in this manner (thank you wikihow). Red from positive socket to one post on the switch (doesn’t matter which one), other post on switch to positive power post, and finally negative power post to negative socket. Follow this illustration exactly to avoid a short circuit.
Here is my fridge switch, tucked into the upper right corner of the briefcase, using velcro as adhesive. When the lid drops the plunger is depressed and the circuit is broken (the lights go off). I added the shims below the switch to make the lights turn on just as the lid is opened. Good electrical timing makes this prop work.
Set the combination. To open the lock in the image above you’d push the latch to the right. While in the open position push the latch to the left and hold. Turn the wheels to any number you like & let go. That’s your new combination.
Open Marcellus Wallace’s briefcase at your own risk.