The Living Kalevala

An epic poem that portrays the ancient life, legends, and heroes of the Finns remains at the heart of Finnish-American ethnic identity.

When Finnish settlers first appeared in America and established the Delaware colony in 1638, they brought with them incredible wood working skills, their native handicrafts, and an inborn talent for surviving harsh conditions. They hacked at the surrounding wilderness and built log homes in a style later called the "American log cabin"; they brought their saunas, their language, and their Lutheran religion. Hardworking, industrious, and creative in the ways of the wilds, they established churches and legal system, built flour mills and roads, and mapped uncharted regions. They got along well with the Indians, apparently having no need for stockades, and they learned Indian dialects easily.

For convenience sake, these early folk often changed their names. But because at that time, Finns were subjects of the Swedish kingdom, there was confusion about their ethnic identity. Since there were so few of them, nobody paid much attention to the differences between Swedes and Finns--particularly to the fact that the languages of the Finns was Finno-Ugric, from the Uralic family of languages, as is Estonian and Lapp, whereas Swedish is a North Germanic language of the Indo-European family. Furthermore, the Finns' ancient culture and folklore were not of Viking origin.

Finnish literature had not yet blossomed when the Finnish colony settled on American shores; scholars knew Latin and Swedish, but Finnish, hardly at all. There were great disparities in the meanings of words between the eastern and western parts of the sparsely populated northern country. Folklore was a matter of memory, passed from generation to generation. With the exception of the great work of Bishop Mikael Agricola who, in 1548, translated the New and part of the Old Testaments, as well as the Pslams into Finnish, the Finnish literary landscape was sparse. Agricola also had begun collecting runes and fragments of Finnish mythology, many of which had been forgotten except in Karelia and a few other remote places.

One can only speculate about how those early Finnish settlers in America assuaged their homesickness with the songs and poems they remembered. In the primeval forests of America, they might have felt the odd stirrings of familiarity, for beyond the relatively urbanized regions of Turku and Helsinki, their original homeland stretched endlessly into dark frozen wilderness. There ancient spirits dwelled and magic words were sung.

As the Finns blended into the mainstream of American colonial life, they passed on the snatches of poems and songs, wise sayings, and folktales they remembered from childhood. There would come a time in the nineteenth century, however, when their songs would blend with those of their countrymen across the sea. The world would take notice that Finns had a national epic they could call their own: the Kalevala. Finns, wherever they might be, would recall the image of two men sitting on either side of a bench, hands clasped, rocking back and forth, alternately singing the poem: As one singer ends a rune, the other begins one, singing hour after hour.

Kaleva is the ancient ancestor of all Finns. The book about Kaleva's descendants is the Kalevala or Land of Kaleva; Kaleva's descendants were called Kalevalanders, Kalevalaiset, or Suomalaiset. Kaleva is known in Russo-Karenian as Golova, in Estonian as Kalev or Kalevi, in proto-Baltic as Kalevijas, in Lithuanian as Kalvis, and in Latvian as Kalejis.

Sometimes referred to as the memory of a nation, the Kalevala begins with an explanation of the singer's motives:

I am driven by my longing,
And my understanding urges
That I should commence my singing,
And begin my recitation.
I will sing the people's legends,
And the Ballads of the nation.
To my mouth the words are flowing,
And the words are gently falling,
Quickly as my tongue can shape them,
And between my teeth emerging.

Dearest friend, and much-loved brother,
Best beloved of all companions,
Come and let us sing together,
Let us now begin our converse,
Since at length we meet together,
From two widely sundered regions.
Rarely can we meet together,
Rarely one can meet the other,
In these dismal Northern regions,
In the dreary land of Pohjola.

Sources Of The Epic

Although begun perhaps a thousand years ago, the first version, or "old", Kalevala, was published only as recently as February 28, 1835. The expanded version, or "new" Kalevala, with its fifty runes and 22,795 lines, appeared in 1849. Its publication is celebrated annually all over Finland and in Finnish-American and Finnish-Canadian communities. Reading, singing, scholarly discussion, seminars, and forums mark the event. Musicians play Finland's national instrument, the five-stringed Kantele, which resembles a harp and is played on the knees of the singer:

Let us clasp our hand together,
Let us interlock our fingers;
Let us sing a cheerful measure
Let us use our best endeavors,
While our dear ones hearken to us,
While the young are standing round us,
Of the rising generation,
Let them learn the words of magic,
And recall our songs and legends …

At the time of Christ's birth, the Finns had settled their country in small, widely scattered independent communities. Their level of civilization was nearly equal to that of the Germans or Celts at the time of their Roman conquest. The Finns made use of iron, copper, and bronze and were familiar with the main grains and important domestic animals. Archaeologists have unearthed skillfully decorated weapons and jewelry. Early finish poems depict life as often violent and always threatened by Vikings and barbarian incursions. Finnish sailing ships carried strong, steadfast heroes to foreign countries, where they abducted women, plundered, and fought single-handedly in defense of their honor or for the sake of adventure. At their death, Finnish chiefs were set adrift on a burning ship to signify, among other things, their stature in the community.

During the years 1150-1160, Sweden began sending expeditions into Finland. The ensuing Swedish conquest of the scattered settlements was not difficult. Meanwhile, Finnish myths were kept alive in song by singers, since the Finns were without a written language at this point in their history. Leonard Barchak explains what took place:

They sang when they were alone or afraid, as other peoples today hum or whistle. They sang as they repaired their nets or struck out on a fishing trip. They sang for courage before hunting the great bears. They sang to soothe their children as they spun and weaved, and they sang at weddings, both great and modest. They sang on the teeter-totter and in the swing, and when driving the cattle home too. Indeed, they sang in so many ways and places, and events, that it is quite ironic that a single view should have filtered down to many modern Finns that there was but a single correct way to present and sing the Kalevala.

Barchak continues, explaining the development of the presentation of Kalevala, linking it to the custom of eastern Finland:

The so-called ceremonial singing, during which two men joined hands and rocked back and forth to keep time so caught the imagination of Elias Lonnrot that he incorporated it into the prologue of the Kalevala and it therefore became the way of performing the national epic.

In some areas, particularly near Estonia, the custom was to have a main singer answered by a chorus. Solo singing was common in Karelia, but there wee also duets, trios, and larger groups.

Throughout Finland, certain families tended to be the poet-singers. A gifted singer of songs and practitioner of magic and sorcery would emerge and become the caretaker of the verses. Arhippa Perttunen, for example, could recite four thousand verses. Larin Paraske, among the last of the great oral folk poets (he died in 1904), knew more than thirteen hundred songs and ballads and could recite from memory more than thirty thousand lines.

During the 1960s scholars were still finding oral poets in what is left of Karelia. Most of Karelia was taken by the Soviet Union after World War II; only a slender strip of land with its historic memories remains part of Finland today. When an elderly rune singer from this area, is located and recorded, it is a momentous occasion for Finland and lovers of the Kalevala the world over.

Elias Lonnrot, The Rune Collector

Elias Lonnrot, born April 9, 1802, was the son of a village tailor in the hamlet of Haarjarvi, in the parish of Sammatti, southwest Finland. From his earliest years, he was an avid reader and collector of knowledge and folk poetry. He was aware that some folklore had been collected, beginning in the sixteenth century with King Gustavus II Adolphus. In 1630, King Adolphus officially urged his subjects in Sweden and Finland to collect folklore. But people in the wilds of Karelia were not keen to share their ancient wisdom. Many were surly, suspicious, and hostile to the king's rune collector, who might be, for all they knew, an inspector of Lutheran orthodoxy, snooping around for native witchcraft practices. Collectors were equally unenthusiastic about the project, not wanting to brave the wilds in severe weather to make the king's case at far-off outposts.

Young Elias Lonnrot seems to have been a poor village boy who dreamed of collecting all the Finnish mythology that he could; he had a passionate love for the Finnish language, which the correctly believed was in disarray. One could say that he possessed the Finnish characteristic sisu, which loosely translated means guts. It is significant that he lived during an auspicious time in Finnish history. The hunger for identity gnawed at a populace long under alien rule. Two of his classmates at the Turku Academy also became famous: J.S. Runeberg, Finland's Swedish-speaking national poet, and J.V. Snellman, the country's foremost political philosopher.

As a small boy, Lonnrot heard of the Napoleonic Wars and the upheaval in Europe. In 1809, Napoleon gave Finland (which had been separated from Sweden) to Alexander I, czar of all the Russias. That year the Porvoo Diet made Finland a Grand Duchy--a nation within nations--with assurances of autonomy and a promise to respect its evangelical Lutheran religion and its ancient laws.

During this period, the Finnish gentry spoke French to their czar, Swedish to each other, and Finnish to the servants. But Finnish nationalist A.I. Arwidsson articulated the resounding resentment: "Swedes we are not, Russians we do not wish to become: so let us the Finns!"

Lonnrot's main interests at the Turku Academy were literature and languages (specifically Finnish), and his dissertation was on legendary hero Vainamoinen ("old and steadfast"), later the lead character in his Kalevala. After receiving his degree in medicine, Lonnrot found himself posted as district physician at Kajaani in central Finland, a district rich in old poetry. Unlike earlier rune collectors, he was a trusted member of their community, a physician who, as it happens, also appreciated its verbal treasures. Fearing the loss of the oral traditions and lore of his people, who as yet had no permanent way of recording their heritage and ancient beliefs, Lonnrot took copious notes wherever he went. Another physician, Topelius the Elder (1791-1831), who sometimes discussed these poems with Lonnrot, shared what he had discovered in his travels and suggested combining and publishing their collected poems someday.

Meanwhile, the work went on, with Lonnrot traveling great distances often in severe weather and living in primitive conditions. He traveled on foot, skis, horseback, and by boat; fortunately, he was healthy and physically fit. During his eleven long journeys, he collected 2,400 songs and edited them into a new Kalevala of fifty poems and 22,795 lines. This is the standard 1849 edition that is in use today and contains the poems of Lemminkainen and Kyllikki. Although the first edition of Kalevala (1835) was a scholarly triumph, it was not a commercial success. The expanded version remains Elias Lonnrot's great masterwork.

Besides Kalevala, Lonnrot published other important folklore; the Kanteletar (Old Songs and Ballads of the Finnish People, 1840-41), a collection of magic formulas and incantations (1880) and, along with Runeberg and Snellman, translations of a number of poems into Swedish. Influential in the evolution of the Finnish language during the nineteenth century, Lonnrot coined Finnish words for scientific and technical terms and even translated parts of the Iliad and the Odyssey into Finnish. He collaborated with J.F. Cajan on History of Finland in 1839, with Kustaa Ticklen on History of Russia, a practical handbook on medicine, and a book on Finnish plants. As a translator, he prepared a handbook of law for the Finns.

One can only marvel at Lonnrot's zeal as he set about finding Finnish equivalents for all foreign words, even those common to several European languages. He gave Finnish names to recent discoveries and inventions, and finally hones the language to become more Finno-Ugric-based than Indo-European. His greatest publishing feat, however, was a collaborative effort with A. Warelius, G. Cannelin, and others on a more than twenty thousand--word Finnish-Swedish dictionary (1880), of which Lonnrot wrote the largest part.

This great man was loved, appreciated, and honored while he lived. He was a professor of Finnish at the University of Helsinki (1853-1862), a founder of the Society for Finnish Literature and its chairman from 1854 to 1863, honorary member of many Finnish scientific and literary societies, doctor honoris causa of the University of Helsinki, knight of several Russian and foreign orders, and Counsellor of Chancery.

Even with all these honors and the enormous success of the Kalevala, Lonnrot remained modest and unassuming. He married when he was forty-two, but lost his wife and several teenage children to diseases that were still fatal at that time. During the last twenty years of his life, he devoted his time to revising the Finnish Hymnal. He died at the age of eighty-two.

Kalevala Receives World Attention

World recognition of the Kalevala came swiftly, particularly from lovers of literature, history, and folklore, who had never seen anything like it. An immediate classic, the Kalevala, or Old Runes of Karelia from the Ancient History of the Finnish People was at once captivating and exciting, a tapestry of warmth, humor, joy, and sadness. Artist Akseli Gallen-Kallela, who later portrayed many of the scenes on canvas, said, "For me, the Kalevala poems have been so sacred that listening to them is like resting one's weary head against some ancient, immovable support."

The epic has also fared well in translation, although no translation has yet quite caught the richness and nuances of the Finnish language. Some of the forty translations now existing are good, some poor, but the equality and fascination remains. A Swedish translation appeared first, in 1841; a French, in 1845; a German, in 1852; an American English, in 1888; and a British English, in 1907.

Shortly before this rush to translation, the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow got wind of something exciting going on in Scandinavia. At the age of twenty-eight, the newly appointed professor of languages at Harvard decided to broaden his literary horizons, and he set sail aboard the Philadelphia in 1835, bound for Europe and Scandinavia. Winding up in Stockholm to study various languages, he happened upon a poet and clergyman named Gustaf Henrik Mellin, a Finn Living in Stockholm. The two struck up a friendship and Mellin instructed his new friend in the languages he knew so well. Longfellow later commented that he found Finnish "abounding in vowels," and gave up on it.

The young American poet was enchanted, however, by the Kalevala. Longfellow studied the form, spirit, and many of the most striking incidents for use in his won epic, Hiawatha. In his journal entry dated June 5, 1854, two weeks before beginning Hiawatha, Longfellow wrote of being delighted with the Finnish epic. Eighteen months later, after publishing Hiawatha, he wrote in an entry dated November 29, 1855, "In 'Hiawatha' I have tried to do for our old Indian legends what the unknown Finnish poets had done for theirs, and in doing this I have employed the same meter, but of course have not adopted any of their legends."

Ernest Moyne does not accept Longfellow's recant: "The form, spirit, and striking incidents owe enormously to Kalevala." Barchak says: "It is hardly coincidence that the Indian lover-dandy of Hiawatha is an echo of Lemminkainen." He invites readers to compare:

Kalevala--"He, the handsome Kaukomieli," poem 11.

Hiawatha--"he the handsome Yenadizze," canto 16.

Barchak points out that Longfellow did not borrow the Kalevala meter. Instead of the colorful and varied melody of the Finnish language when sung, Longellow kept to a rather stiff form taken from the German translation. Barchak maintains that the Kalevala meter cannot be reproduced in the English language. When and if such matters are ever settled amongst he purists, it must be to Longfellow's credit that he alerted the English-speaking world to Finland's national epic.

As translators know, translating is not a cold, heartless exercise in language fluency, but rather a serious understanding of what the original author is trying to say. Compounding the difficulties of the Finnish language itself are the style, meter, and heart of the Kalevala. One can only stand in awe of the British entomologist from the Natural History Museum in London, W.F. Kirby, who took on the task of translating the classic. It took Kirby twenty years of arduous work to produce his text. Since he was fluent in German, he tried working with that version, but his colleagues disliked its sound. So he gritted his teeth in resolve, learned Finnish and Estonian, and tried again. Despite several more recent versions of the Kalevala, Kirby remains the favored translator. His 1907 translation is still unquestionably one of the greatest literary keys to the North, according to J.B.C. Grundy who wrote the introduction.

Finnish-Americans have also tried their hand at it. According to Eino Friberg, most translators have been helped by Finnish-born spouses. His own experience is unique because although he was born in Finland, he grew up and was educated in America. But his uniqueness does not end there: Blinded in a childhood accident when he was seven, he attended school for the blind for a year, transferred to a sighted school, graduated from Boston University, and received his M.A. from Harvard. After working several decades on the Braille version of Kalevala, he concludes that the only way of capturing the true ring (sound or tone) is through American, not British English.

The Finnish-American Heritage Foundation in Portland, Oregon, underwrote the publication of Friberg's work. The office and libraries of this nonprofit foundation, whose only activity is the translation, publication, and distribution of Finnish and Finnish-American translation and their distribution, set up their national room at Portland State University in 1959. Other nationalities were invited to establish similar facilities at the school. Friberg's latest American version took ten years to complete, without benefit of grants. Heikki A. Reenpaa, chairman of the board of Otava publishers, called Friberg's translation "as original in its form as it can possibly be translated."

The Kalevala Story

Lonnrot believed he was assembling fragments of a lost but real past. Although he was wrong in this assumption, his work does reflect what the ancient people were like, what they thought and believed, and how they lived their daily lives. The characters are strongly drawn. They do not simper about in feudal courts or grand castles. They are at one with nature, unfettered by stilted formal manners. Assembling the fragmented story lines and songs was somewhat like putting together a jigsaw puzzle; Lonnrot felt obliged to insert a glue, or lead-in, from time to time, and to give this very long epic a beginning and end. For these connectors, he was able to use authentic excursions into lifestyles, subplots, and character development.

After a suitable introduction, the story begins with the creation of the world, which blends the gods of the old religions and the spirits of nature. As the main characters work, make love, and go into battle, the Kalevala's eternal themes are introduced, developed and interwoven: passion and death, power, wealth, and ambition. But the heart of the story involves two warring peoples: one righteous, but human, and the other evil and fearsome.

The people of Kaleva are led by sturdy old Vainamoinen, the strange hero whose power lies, not in military virtue, but in his wisdom and skill at song and music--yet he is one who makes a fool of himself over a young girl. Still, Vainamoinen is in all things the cultural hero: He discovers grain, plants the barren earth, saves the people from famine and pestilence, invents the kantele (harp), brings home the totem bear, finds fire when it seems extinguished, descends to the underworld to learn deeper wisdom, builds a wondrous boat magically without touch of hand, and sings the world to silent wonder or ecstatic dance.

The other people, the people of Pohjola, are ruled by a terrifying figure--the matriarch Louhi, who outwits the men, including old Vainamoinen. It is to her that the heroes must come to seek brides. She makes them pay dearly with Herculean tasks. She even steals the sun and the moon and hides away the mythical "horn of plenty," the miraculous device that bestows prosperity on those who possess it. When the horn is full and ready to drop its fruit, a battle for it ensues and it breaks. Throughout the story's action, there are lyrical descriptions of life's great events, feasts, weddings, and funerals.

The Kalevala ends when Christianity displaces the old gods. The virgin Marjatta's infant son is baptized and hailed as King of Karelia, and "the lord of all the might." Enraged, the old chief Vainamoinen sings himself a boat of copper, seats himself in the stern, and sails over the sparkling billows. His song mourans the passing of the heroic age:

May the time pass quickly o'er us,
One day passes, comes another,
And again shall I be needed.
Men will look for me, and miss me,
To construct another Sampo,
And another harp to make me,
Make another moon for gleaming,
And another sun for shining,
When the moon and sun are absent,
In the air no joy remaineth.

The Golden Age Of Finnish Art

Publication of the Kalevala came at a propitious time in Finnish history. Folklorist Jouko Hautala wrote that the epic

Fulfilled beyond expectations the romantic fantasies inspired by our folklore. In a single stroke, like a gift from heaven, the Finnish nation received what the age regarded as the most estimable in literature, an ancient epos, a national epos. To our still incipient native literature was incorporated a world that had not only a national but a universal significance, a work that put little, out-of-the-way Finland in the cultural arena to compete with and even triumph over large nations boasting ancient traditions.

The political backdrop of the early nineteenth century was not an ideal climate for the development of a Finnish heritage. The rather Victorian Swedish-speaking upper classes condescendingly ventured into Finnish culture as a demonstration of their "enlightenment." When the liberal and benevolent Czar Alexander II (1855-1881) reigned, it was a reasonably happy period because he granted Finns almost all the reforms they requested. There were regularly scheduled parliament meetings, elementary school education was instituted, the decree forbidding the use of the Finnish language was abolished and it became the official language for the Finns. The Bank of Finland issued separate currency and general military service was introduced. A church was established to secure the position of dissenters and the building of the railroads began (though badly shaken by the famine of 1867-68).

With Alexander II's assassination in 1881 came a whole new era of oppression under Alexander III. The Russians took control of Finnish universities, law courts, and the press. But the worst oppression was under the reign of Nicholas II, whose governor general, Nicholas Bobrikov, appointed Russians to all administrative positions in Finland, and decreed Russian the official language of the country. All Finnish legislation was transferred to the Russian government, the Finnish army was absorbed by the imperial forces, and any Finn who resisted these orders was sent to Siberia.

But beneath it all, the Kalevala flowed, nurturing its people, like some deep and broad river; it furnished the inspiration for great paintings and nationalistic music. Kalevala themes and characters were the permissible means of patriotic and nationalistic aspirations. The epic continued to give Finns a strong sense of national awareness and confidence in themselves.

Romanticism had swept through Europe during the first half of the nineteenth century. During the latter half, there was a tremendous national awakening in Finland through the pictorial arts, music, literature, and architecture. Artists were exhilarated. The Kalevala had lifted them spiritually. At last, they had their own noble literature. When Aleksis Kivi published his novel Seven Brothers in 1872, the cultural doors opened wider still.

With the Finnish renaissance came Akseli Gallen-Kallela, the great painter of Kalevala themes. Working in different media were his close friends--composer Jean Sibelius, conductor Robert Kajanus, and architect Eliel Saarinen. Gallen--Kallela wrote:

The legends of the Kalevala arouse in me the warmest feelings for my land, just as if I myself had lived through it all. But in using these motifs in my works, I do not do it to "illustrate" the Kalevala but because these pictures appear lifelike in my imagination.

In 1919, the first regent of independent Finland, Gen. Carl Gustav Mannerheim (1867-1951) invited Gallen-Kallela to became his personal adviser on the arts.

Composer Jean Sibelius (1865-1957) was particularly inspired by the Kalevala. His first important composition was the Kullervo Symphony, first performed in 1892. His four later symphonic poems on Lemminkainen, the Kalevala's lover-dandy, were clearly inspired by folklore. Toward the end of his creative career, Sibelius returned to the Kalevala theme with his Tapiola--the realm of the great god Tapio--in which he portrays the gloomy, secret ancient forests of the North.

Finns in America

Although a few adventurous Finns sailed to America during the 1800s, emigration was relatively negligible until famine struck and rural farm life changed. The largest wave of immigrants came between 1893 and 1914, when more than 200,000 Finns settled in the United States and Canada. Between 1921 and 1930, 59,000 more came; during the 1930s, only 3,600. After World War II, by law and the quota system, only 566 Finnish immigrants were allowed in annually. The old quota system was abolished by the New Immigration Act of 1965.

In a sense, these modest statistics reveal many of the Finns' early difficulties. Coming from a small country, Finns were not numerous to begin with; in America, they were often absorbed into the earlier, larger immigrant groups. Most Finns could not speak English and few were skilled for industrial jobs. Many became miners, some foresters, railroad men, and fishermen on the West Coast. Their goal was usually to save enough money to send for wives and families, but in the meantime they suffered loneliness and despair.

None of the other immigrant workers could understand their language, and their names were unpronounceable. Some felt honored when anyone commented that they didn't look Finnish. But they continued to work hard, brawl, drink, and take saunas.

Throughout those early times the Finnish immigrants longed for something familiar and friendly. Although, as newcomers, most had been met in New York by volunteers who took care of them until they could find jobs, many felt as though they had gone directly from the bats into iron, coal, and copper mines in Michigan and Minnesota.

It was not long, though, before they formed groups and established their churches, halls, and societies. Church congregations, temperance societies, cooperative societies, the Socialist Federation, the IWW, church ladies' aids, cooperative guilds; these all helped guide the immigrants' lives. There were choirs and choruses, orchestras and bands, athletic teams, drama groups, poetry reading clubs, lending libraries, summer camps, and festivals. Ubiquitous Finn halls sprang up by the hundreds. There, Finns spoke their own language, found friends, exchanged ideas, listened to speeches, watched plays, listened to poetry readings, borrowed books, ate Finnish foods, and drank coffee.

They also argued a lot; not everyone could be a leader, at least not at the same time. Friberg describes the origins of the Knights and Ladies of Kaleva and explains the noble goals:

Our revered founder, John Stone, who wrote the words of our rituals and established the first Lodge in Montana, wanted to form an organization based on something around which all Finnish-Americans could peacefully unite. At that time there were among us so many factions, puolueita, both religious and political, in which there were small factions all quarreling, fighting with one another and among themselves.

He asked the question; what cause could be common to all Finns? There was an ancient ancestor, a first ancestor, named Kaleva, and there was a book about his descendants, the Kalevala.

They called themselves brothers and sisters of whatever lodge they belonged to, and qualification for membership included reciting from memory a certain portion of the Kalevala. Their original purpose was to help newcomers in their area and to assist "Finntowns" in setting up local mutual-aid societies.

The Knights and Ladies of Kaleva got involved with the American legal system, as well. This resulted partly from a book written in 1775 by the German anthropologist J.F. Blumenbach. Blumenbach divided the world's peoples into five races, based on skin color. Since the Finns didn't fit easily into any of the five races, he included them with the Mongols. Blumenbach's work to another until anthropologists began to recognize its inaccuracies.

Not soon enough, however, of on January 4, 1908, John Svan and sixteen other Finns were denied citizenship by District Attorney John C. Sweet of St. Paul, Minnesota. The Finns were prevented from becoming citizens on the grounds that they were Mongolians, not "white persons" within the meaning of Section 2169, United States Revised Statutes. Finns were thus ineligible for citizenship, based on a series of Oriental Exclusion Acts passed in 1882, 1892, and 1902.

But on January 17, 1908, Judge William A. Cant at the U.S. District Court in Duluth officially declared that the Finns were not Asians and that although, perhaps, the Finns had been "Mongols" in the remote past, their blood had been so tempered by that of the Teutons and other races that they "are now among the whitest people in Europe." As late as 1957, the issue of whether they were racially Mongolians still bothered many Finns. In that year, the Knights and Ladies of Kaleva commissioned an anthropologist to write a book that proved once and for all that Finns are not Asians.

Nowadays, the lodges devote much of their resources toward scholarships for bright Finnish-American students; they always stand ready to help those in need. From its first appearance, Lonnrot's translation of the Kalevala has occasioned an annual celebration on February 28--Kalevala Day. Lonnrot's collection of characters live again in many forms throughout cities, towns and villages. Ballets, music, festivals, readings, serious scholarly discussions, and banquets mark the events.

For months in advance volunteers work toward the event; word is spread through Finnish-language newspapers, the publication Kalevainen, newsletters of the regional chapters of the Finlandia Foundation, radio stations, and churches. In Washington, D.C., the Kalevala Day program is held each year at Marvin Hall, George Washington University; in Detroit, the event is held at the Kalevala Park; and in Kaleva, Michigan, Kalevala Day is celebrated at the Kaleva Historical Museum. Kalevala Day events are also held each year at Suomi College in Hancock, Michigan. This private college, founded by early Finnish immigrants, offers ongoing studies in the Finnish language and Kalevala, as do some other institutions.

Finnish-American Festivals And Celebrations

Kalevala Day celebrations are usually large, although certain years they are quite large. The year 1985 called for special celebrations to commemorate the 150^th anniversary of the epic's publication.

Enthusiasts gathered at Suomi College for Finn-Fest 85. There were films and fashion shows, discussion on "The Art of the Kantele," and papers presented on the Kalevala. The Kalevala Players from Berkeley, California, presented their version of "The Joys and Sorrows of Vainamoinen."

At Columbia University, the subcommittee on Uralic Studies conducted a special Finnish program, "From Folk to Nation," in honor of Kalevala's anniversary during which distinguished scholars presented papers on the poem. Lauri Honko, professor at the Institute of Fook Tradition from the University of Turku, lectured on "The Kalevala and National Identity." Felix Olinas, professor emeritus of the Slavic and Uralic-Altic languages at Indiana University, lectured on "Shamanistic Compoenents in the Kalevala. Paul Kiparsky, professor of linguistics at Stanford University, discussed "The Singer's art and Lonnrot's Art," and Eero Tarasti, professor in the Department of Musciology at the University of Helsinki, gave his views on "The Influence of the Kalevala on Finnish Music."

Actually the Kalevala is celebrated by Finnish-Americans during any season of the year. During the 1987 FinnFest, the Kalevala was celebrated in Juhannus Juhla, or midsummer. At the 1987 FinnFest USA in Detroit, more than a thousand people attended the wide variety of ethnic programs. Foremost in the program was a special interpretation of the Kalevala by Ed Haapa. Also featured was the folk music concert, instrumental music of the Finnish-American community in the Great Lakes region, a religious history panel, poetry readings, a summary of Finnish-American diplomatic history and migrations, and a Finnish-language newspaper forum. Vendors sold handicrafts, many from Finland. Prominent, and much admired, was the Kalevala jewelry, fashioned to resemble ancient artifacts dug up by archaeologists.

Irja Frenzen, a Finnish-American who now lives in Washington, D.C., often gives readings of the Kalevala as a program participant. She says: "There are times when the Finlandia Foundation and other organizational think we've had enough of it. Some say, 'Oh, that's boring, let's skip it this year.' But the funny thing is, if we try that, people go away with the feeling that something is missing. So we always have our readings and discussions of one kind or another." Frenzen, whose parents came from Finland, has been coached in her pronunciations by at least ten Finns. A serious enthusiast, she is one of the founding members of the Finlandia Foundation, the National Capital Chapter of the Finlandia Foundation, and is a recipient of the Order of the Lion of Finland for her good work.

Kalevi Olkio, founder and first president of the Baltimore Chapter and currently a National Trustee of the Finlandia Foundation, organizes the ethnic events for FinnFest USA. Born in Finland and married to an Estonian, he devotes large blocks of time as director of FinnFest USA. "Each Year, nine of us get together and select a different location for FinnFest," he says, "and Kalevala is stronger than ever. People love it." He notes that 1988 has been designated by Congress as the year marking the friendship between the United States and Finland. He points out that the American and Finnish flags fly together annually on Kalevala Day in the courthouse yard in Duluth, Minnesota.

Finland's ambassador in Washington, Paavo Rantanen, and his wife, Ritva, frequently attend Kalevala celebrations as honored guests. It is not unusual for Ritva Rantanen to don her national costume and join the other from the Old Country in the day's entertainment. She is pleased to see that traditions have been passed down to the new generations and that the Finnish language and Kalevala live on in America.

At each annual celebration, whether it be in the small "pocket" settlements or in big cities, Kalevala remains the centerpiece. The dark, mysterious, frozen forests of the great epic are nowhere to be seen, but these festivals recreate a uniquely Finnis aura with their family heirlooms: jewelry, copper pots, weavings, utensils, and old books. Paintings and local art contribute to the displays. Costumed dancers; many of whom are children and teenagers, show off the dances they have practiced all year long. Accordianists and fiddlers, dressed in tight black trousers, vests with long-sleeved puffed shirts, and puukko knives tied at their waist (signifying their family districts), set the musical atmosphere for the fest.

Most of the entertainers are bi- or trilingual and have risen above the poverty level that their parents or grandparents endured. But they have not forgotten the sacrifices their families made to educate them, and Kalevala Day festivals somehow give them the opportunity to express, in some small way, their gratitude to their ancestors.

A recent Kalevala festival in Washington, D.C., serves as an example. The hall was tastefully decorated, and Finnish refreshments were arranged on a long table--pulla bread pasties, cookies, and other foods. Other tables were strewn with sentimental symbols of Finland and the Kalevala. There were hundreds of guests, many of Finnish ancestry, including a sizeable "Friends of Finland" group, composed mostly of State Department officials who have served there. A men's chorus performed complicated but beautiful traditional music, and then a children's folk dance group danced traditional Finnish dances.

Following these performances, a number of guests approached the microphone to speak to the audience about the meaning the Kalevala has to them. Then Irja Franzen rose to read a portion of the epic.

Suddenly the auditorium was still, as the words poured forth. Franzen had practiced long and hard for this solemn moment, when she would take guests back to ancient times in lyric rhythm and rich wording. Two versions of the Kalevala were read--Finnish and English. The hush in the auditorium gave one pause to reflect that in today's America, the Kalevala does live. It means as much, may be even more, than it ever did.