The Kalevala (Paperback)

The Kalevala is a non-rhyming poem consisting of fifty cantos ranging over about 670 pages. The cantos are meant to be sung and were collected in the nineteenth century by Finnish scholar Elias Lönnrot as he traveled around Finland listening to old men sing from memory. The actual number of such collected stories is mind boggling and only a small fraction comprise the loosely connected plot of The Kalevala. Lönnrot even modified some of the stories himself to make the poem a more satisfying piece of literature in its own right. The story follows an amazingly small number of major characters who can loosely be described as warrior-wizards: an old wise singer, a talented metal smith, a foolhardy and womanizing young man, a tragic orphan boy, and a trouble-making woman who plays the antagonist throughout. Together they can conjure up armies by singing, build boats and musical instruments out of virtually nothing, and even shape shift into giant winged creatures. In this land of long ago, ships can talk, pike grow to be the size of houses, and people can be brought back to life by stitching their body parts together! Yes, my friends, it doesn't hurt to be a little open minded with a book like this.

It's difficult to characterize or critique this book because it is so unique, so different from anything I've ever read. The poetry itself is surprisingly simple and easy to read, yet oddly satisfying. When Vainamoinen, the old singer and dominant character, finds himself in a predicament, what does he do? Does he sit down and rationalize his thoughts, plan out his course of action in detail? (I'm already speaking in paired lines!). He probably does, but that's not what is narrated to us. Instead, "He thinks, considers / how to be, which way to live." (p. 202) And these two little lines, in all of their simplicity, are more poignant and powerful than any psychological exposition could be. We picture Vainamoinen, the great warrior-poet, "thinking" and "considering" as if he is momentarily stumped. He is humbled, brought down from his usual decisive and confident self, by his own sudden realization that the complexity of the world is too much even for the mighty Vainamoinen. Then he thinks about how he should "be" and about his own life, reminding us that our own way of life--our choices and decisions--defines our being, who we are. Through these lines we relate to Vainamoinen and his struggle; we are comforted by his imperfections because they make him, a wise and gracious character, closer to us.

As a text that is meant to be sung, The Kalevala is riddled with patterns, both in the form of the poetry and in the plot itself (which Bosley calls "formulas"). One of the more obvious quirks of the poem is its tendency to rephrase the previous line in the current line, giving the work a kind of lyrical quality one would find in a musical: "'Might I say something / would I be allowed to ask / what kind of man you may be / what sort of fellow?'" (p. 73) Another is the presence of repeated identical lines, especially within the context of parallelism. When Kullervo says goodbye to his family in canto 36, he addresses his father, brother, sister, and mother one by one and in an identical fashion (parallelism): to each he asks "Will you weep for me" and is answered "I'll not weep for you", then states "And I shall not weep for you." We go through this four times. From a literary standpoint this is done (evidently) for emphasis. But because the original was sung, I think it's more likely that repeating structures would serve as a sort of chorus for the listeners. When viewed from this context of song, the poem's structure makes greater sense. However, the content of the poem-particularly the more magical parts-can be difficult to relate to.

As with any work that is archaic to begin with and a translation, the reader will here occasionally feel as thought there is a major disconnect between his own purpose for reading and the purpose for which the story was originally intended. As a modern young American male with no connection whatsoever to Finland and very little knowledge of formal epic storytelling, I approached The Kalevala as if it were, at the least, a good opportunity to broaden my conception of epic literature and, at the most, an entertaining story. I say this because any work like The Kalevala will be at least a good experience if taken seriously. The question is: is it really entertaining to a modern audience? (a much greater--and probably unrealistic--expectation). Now I know that a scholar would scoff at the question, but it is a legitimate one from the standpoint of the individual who comes to the work purely out of curiosity. Setting oral tradition aside and viewing the poem as free-standing literature in the context of non-Finnish culture (I can't comment on the work's appeal in such an environment), I would say that there are parts of the poem that are entertaining. But I caution the eager adventure-seeking reader: patience is a prerequisite here. But, more often than not, this is a sign that something greater than the memory of a few hours of entertainment awaits you at the other side of the rainbow.