Books from Finland - A literary journal of writing from and about Finland.

An extract from the novel Voimattomuus (‘Powerlessness’, WSOY, 2005). Introduction by Maila-Katriina Tuominen

Cast:
a man
a woman
a boy

Midsummer Eve. A cabin.Outside it’s raining a little, but the blanket of clouds is already breaking up.
It’s bright in the cabin, like daylight. The table is set.
A bunch of wild violets, torn from its means of support, droops in the middle of the table, surrounded by stemmed glasses and paper napkins folded into the shape of swans. The champagne, aquavit and white wine are still chilling.
A man and a woman walk into the cabin wearing bathrobes. She has a terrycloth towel wound around her head like a turban. They’re coming from the sauna. He looks at the table with surprise. The table is set for three.
She notices the man’s gaze and hurries into the bedroom to get dressed.
He takes a beer out of the refrigerator and sits down at the table in his bathrobe.
A long silence.

WOMAN’S VOICE
Will you put the potatoes on to cook?

He doesn’t reply, drinks some beer.

WOMAN’S VOICE
The potatoes are washed.

He groans, drinks some beer. Deep in thought, he unfolds the paper swan that happens to be in front of him.

WOMAN’S VOICE
You can’t put new potatoes into the pot ahead of time.

He says nothing.

WOMAN’S VOICE
They go into boiling water.

A long silence.
He drinks the rest of his beer and gets another one from the refrigerator.
She comes to the bedroom door. She’s wearing an open-necked summer pullover and earrings, mascara.
She goes to the stove, notices that the pot isn’t on the burner.

WOMAN
Huh.

MAN
Huh what?

The woman doesn’t reply, puts the pot on the burner and looks out the window.

WOMAN
It’s raining.

He doesn’t reply.
She gets herself a beer and pulls up a chair next to the man. She takes his hand hesitantly, holds it between her own.
He starts to pull his hand away, but then doesn’t do it.
A long silence.

WOMAN
If it hasn’t been said yet, which it hasn’t, then I’ll say it now.

He is startled, pulls his hand out from between her hands. The hand doesn’t know what to do, it wipes the table and then holds onto the beer bottle.
She notices his apprehension. It makes her smile a little; she has a gift for him.

WOMAN
That I love ya. You.

He is relieved, doesn’t want to show it.

MAN
Mascara.

WOMAN
What?

MAN
Going somewhere?

She blushes.
To conceal her embarrassment she gets up quickly, too quickly, and tries to put the brakes on.
She begins to wash some lettuce. He becomes apprehensive again.

MAN
You are then?

WOMAN
What?

MAN
Going somewhere?

WOMAN
For godsake.

MAN
Where, then?

WOMAN
Nowhere.

MAN
Aha.

She doesn’t reply.

MAN
Aha.

WOMAN
Aha what, damn it?

MAN
Aha.

WOMAN
What?

MAN
Nothing. I was just adding it up. One plus one adds up to three.

She doesn’t reply, Her hands tremble a little.
He notices the trembling. He feels it is his burden, this noticing.
A long silence.

MAN
That’s all. And just. That I am a rather exhausted person, too. And I’m exhausted from working.

WOMAN
Thank you.

MAN
You’re welcome. At the beginning of June, I was counting them, the three weddings, and….

WOMAN
People want to get married in the summer.

MAN
Thanks for the information – three weddings since the beginning of June, three christenings and four funerals and….

WOMAN
People die in the spring. There’s nothing we can do about it. Apparently the light affects them somehow so that….

MAN
Nothing can be done about it. It’s true. And on top of that the paperwork, the routine. Nothing can be done about that. What can be done about it? Or could be done?

She slams the salad bowl on the table.
It doesn’t break, but it could have.
He changes positions, sits up straight.

WOMAN
Listen, now.

MAN
I am listening, as you can see. My hearing hasn’t diminished any more than is normal for people our age.

WOMAN
I’ll tell you what – let’s eat and go to bed.

MAN
And my eyesight is better than average. The eye doctor said so. Taking my age into account, anyway.

WOMAN
Let’s pretend like everything’s all right during dinner.

MAN
Isn’t it?

WOMAN
Let’s just do it for Mikael’s sake.

MAN
If I haven’t been able to avoid other signs of aging. I’m very sorry.

WOMAN
Fucking hell – if Mikael’s friends spread it around that Mikael’s parents can’t manage to get along well enough to suppress, or to bother to suppress….

MAN
Suppress what? Their disillusionment?

WOMAN
Please. I’m begging you….

MAN
My hair has thinned. Yes. It shows my age. My skin sags. Nothing can be done about that, either. I’m in average shape. My doctor says so. I could do better, if I had time to go to the gym. My penis has shrunk, admittedly. If that’s what it’s about, then….

WOMAN
For godsake.

She runs to the outer door, then back, then into the bedroom. A stifled cry is heard from there.
He gets up in surprise, is on his way to her when he notices that the boy is on his way from the sauna house with a bag over his shoulder.
He sits back down quickly, pulls his bathrobe more tightly around himself.

MAN
Come here. Right now. The whelp is coming.

She comes and sits back down.
He fumbles for her hand. She pulls her hand away.
There is a knock at the door.

MAN
Come on in, come on in.

The boy comes through the door, drags the shoulder bag underfoot.

BOY
Thanks. For the sauna and everything. I rarely get to take one. A wood-fired one. So. Thanks.

MAN
Come on in.

BOY
Thanks. Uh, no. I should go.

MAN
What’s the hurry? It will be dark soon.

BOY
I got a call. I really gotta go.

MAN
That’s no way to leave the house. Our hostess has gone all out. No, really. Please, sit down.

The boy leaves the shoulder bag in the doorway and sits down at the table uncertainly.
The man fetches the bottle of champagne from the refrigerator and, at the same time, drops the washed potatoes into the boiling water. His hands tremble a little. To hide this, he turns his back to the table and opens the champagne.
She closes her eyes, tries to collect herself, and succeeds, and when she opens her eyes she even manages to smile.

WOMAN
Was there enough steam?

BOY
Oh, in the sauna?

MAN
Yeah. That’s where one generally finds steam.

BOY
Yeah, there was. Thanks.

The man pours champagne into the glasses.

BOY
I have to be on the road in a while.

MAN
One glass won’t kill you. Or the road. To Midsummer.

They clink glasses.
A strained silence.

MAN
The festival of light. An interesting paradox.

WOMAN
How so?

MAN
That we celebrate the light at the moment that the days are actually starting to get shorter. From now on it’ll get darker, not lighter.

WOMAN
On Midsummer Eve our granny always used to say ‘There goes another summer.’ She said it’s always gone before you know it.

MAN
She was no dummy.

WOMAN
A born pessimist.

MAN
Not at all. A realist, I’d say.

WOMAN
All pessimists call themselves realists.

MAN
They should have a festival of light at Christmastime. That’s when the light, and life, begins. Contrary to Christian belief. Do you know the etymology of the word yule?

WOMAN
It’s silly to talk about Christmas at Midsummer.

MAN
Don’t either of you know? It comes from the word geol, which means the wheel of day. The Vikings held the festival of light then, when the light was returning to the world. To the light! Even though it’s decreasing.

They clink glasses again.
She fears the man’s mood, tries to think of something to talk about.

WOMAN (to the boy)
You’re one of Mikael’s friends?

BOY
Yeah, I write copy. At Aleajacta. With Mikael. At the same company.

MAN
The die is cast.

BOY
I’m sorry, what?

MAN
Alea jacta est. It’s missing the est.

BOY
Oh, right.

MAN
For some reason the est is missing.

BOY
Yeah.

MAN
Illusions for sale.

BOY
Ah.

MAN
Jus’ like our Mikael. You live by selling people illusions.

BOY
We provide information about products.

MAN
Do you?

BOY
What do you mean?

MAN
Do you provide objective information about cars, for instance? Buy this car. It pollutes the environment such- and-such amount and causes such- and -such per cent risk of death.

BOY
No.

MAN
Oh?

BOY
Information. Not objective information.

MAN
Is subjective information what you call information?

BOY
Maybe.

MAN
Buy this car. An explicit assertion: it will consume so many gallons of gas, sorry, so few, it’s got such and such safety record. Implicit assertion: it will improve your virility. Is that about right?

BOY
Aleajacta doesn’t have any car dealers as clients.

The man looks at the woman victoriously. The boy feels naïve.
The boy notices the look, blushes a little.
She glances at the boy and smiles apologetically.
The boy blushes more.

BOY
It’s the same all over.

MAN
What?

BOY
The professions. If you don’t fix pipes or bake bread, then you sell illusions. Or till the soil or clean the streets, or something like that.

MAN
I’m sorry?

BOY
Writers and other artists. Painters. Philosophers. Or researchers. Teachers. Sociologists.

WOMAN
Nurses?

BOY
Not them. They clean and take care of people. They do good.

MAN
Pastors. What about pastors?

BOY
Yeah….

MAN
What’s the difference between a pastor and a copywriter?

BOY
There isn’t much difference.

MAN
So a pastor and a copywriter handle pretty much the same thing?

BOY
Yeah.

MAN
Just a minute, now. Just one minute.

BOY
Illusions. It’s true. Eat Finnish vegetables. You’ll live longer. You won’t die.

MAN
But you die anyway?

BOY
You die anyway.

MAN
And it’s not up to us.

BOY
Who would it be up to?

MAN
Us, for instance. I don’t lie and say you won’t die.

BOY
Aha.

MAN
Aha what?

BOY
That’s not what the others say.

MAN
What do they say?

BOY
That you never die. That after death there is another life, and it never ends.

MAN
And that’s a lie?

BOY
And that’s a lie.

MAN
What if it’s not a lie? What if it’s true?

BOY
Then the copywriter makes the same claim as the pastor does.

This makes the woman smile. She disagrees with the boy, but she’s on his side.
The argument doesn’t hold her attention.
She looks at the man curiously. He is smiling, trying to smile, ironically.

MAN
You don’t believe in it?

BOY
Believe in what?

MAN
Life after death.

BOY
I can’t believe it’s the truth without receiving some proof.

WOMAN
That’s a poem.

MAN
What?

WOMAN
I can’t believe it’s the truth without receiving some proof.

MAN
That’s a paradox. If it can’t be proved, then I don’t believe it. Compare that to: If it can’t be proved, then I don’t know. The essence of faith is trust, not fact, which requires proof. Here’s another paradox – it’s actually a confession: ‘I can’t believe it’s the truth’. That shows a desire, wouldn’t you say?

BOY
I’m sorry?

MAN
Is it a correct interpretation to say that you would like to believe it, but you can’t?

BOY
Hard to say.

MAN
What’s so hard about it?

BOY
Everybody believes in something.

MAN
An evasive cliché.

BOY
Everybody believes in the same thing.

MAN
Oh, yeah? Like what?

BOY
Money.

MAN
Oh, is that so? On what do you base the claim that I, for example, believe in money particularly?

BOY
Every profession pays in money.

MAN
A truism.

BOY
You get more money for selling illusions.

MAN
And you claim that I’m a pastor because I can make money at it?

BOY
Yes.

MAN
That I became a pastor and not, for example, a judge or a copywriter because I could make more money as a pastor?

BOY
No.

MAN
Then why?

BOY
You became a pastor because you could make money at it. Not more money, just money.

MAN
OK, let’s look at this. I became a pastor so I could make some money?

BOY
I don’t mean anything personal.

MAN
Don’t worry, I don’t take it personally. That’s the basic principle you’re arguing for, or at least I hope it is. Fine. Let’s expand that. Let’s talk more generally. Everyone chooses a profession for themselves because they can make money at it? Is that your basic claim?

BOY
No.

MAN
What, then?

BOY
They choose something else at first. Then everything changes.

The man glances at the woman, tries to get her to smile.
She does smile, but he isn’t sure what she’s smiling at.

MAN
Would it be too much to ask you to use longer sentences? You’re talking about quite substantive matters, but pumping you like this is a bit of a chore, if you know what I mean.

BOY
A person chooses a profession… to make himself visible. The self. A self. Some kind of ‘me’. Then he goes with the flow. At work and with his colleagues. Everybody’s in the same boat and everybody eggs each other on.

MAN
On to what?

BOY
Believing. That it’s a necessity.

MAN
What’s a necessity?

BOY
Going along with it. To keep the wheels turning.

MAN
To keep the wheels turning. What’s a pastor’s necessity?

BOY
Buy things.

MAN
I’m sorry, what?

BOY
Telling people to buy things, when it’s unavoidable. That it’s not bad. Buying things. Even though you buy things, you’ll go to heaven. Even if you buy weapons. You’ll still go to heaven.

MAN
The church, as I understand it, doesn’t support selling arms. Not our church, at least.

BOY
Not in our day, at least. Not publicly, at least. Right now, at least. In Finland, at least.

MAN
Wow.

BOY
If you sell arms, it’s not an obstacle. You’ll still go to heaven.

MAN
Is that so?

BOY
Everybody goes to heaven.

MAN
Well, exactly. I know the kind of pastor you speak of, his widely held ideas about things. There are different opinions about him. About him and his ideas. It might not be healthy to generalise about them.

BOY
Everybody agrees about it.

MAN
No, they don’t. I don’t.

BOY
If you have nothing else. You have to sell what you have. Everybody sells what they have. Some sell arms, some sell poems, or opium, or stock options, and that’s what they live on.

MAN
So I’ve heard. The boys at Nokia. People like that.

BOY
And pastors.

MAN
Excuse me?

BOY
Options for heaven.

The man tries to smile at the woman, but feels his cheeks twitch annoyingly.
She doesn’t notice his look; she stares at the boy with interest and amusement.

BOY
Everybody believes their own story, but nobody really believes it. Nobody really believes in anything. But no one dares to say it out loud.

MAN
No one but you. What a hero.

BOY
If you say it out loud, everything will come crashing down.

MAN
What will come crashing down?

BOY
The professions, everything. Buying. Markets. Selling. There would be poverty.

MAN
Now that is apocalyptic.

BOY
Everybody’s blowing on the same coal. They think they’re not, but they are. Aspartame.

MAN
What about it?

BOY
It causes cancer. It’s around. In Diet Coke and other stuff. Somebody makes it, prepares it. Somebody sells it. Somebody advertises it. Somebody heals those who get cancer. Somebody makes medicines. Somebody sells them, somebody advertises them, somebody consoles people when the medicine doesn’t work. The wheels keep turning.

MAN
And that kind of world is good, in your opinion?

BOY
It’ll do.

MAN
Gloomy young man. A little Werther in his blood, wouldn’t you say?

WOMAN
Don’t joke.

MAN
Except that Werther had a soul.

WOMAN
And our guest doesn’t?

MAN
Why are you asking me? Ask our guest.

WOMAN
Do people have souls?

MAN
That’s not what you asked me.

WOMAN
What?

MAN
You asked if our guest had a soul.

WOMAN
Jaakko.

MAN
Stick to the subject.

WOMAN
Do people have souls?

BOY
Where?

MAN
Within them. It certainly counts among a person’s possessions. In primitive belief even insects and stones were thought to have a soul.

BOY
It’s hard to say.

MAN
Everything’s hard.

BOY
So it seems.

MAN
But do they? It’s a personal question. In this case it’s a question of faith.

BOY
Yes it is.

MAN
So do they or don’t they?

BOY
Not in my experience.

MAN
Not in your experience? Not in your internal nor external experience?

WOMAN
Jaakko.

BOY
Should I leave?

MAN
Why? Is the topic of discussion annoying you? What’s more taboo than the soul nowadays? Let’s talk about something else. We’d better talk about something that isn’t taboo these days. Let’s talk about sex.

WOMAN
For godsake.

BOY
I have to go.

She gets up before the boy has a chance to and is on her way to the bedroom, notices the boy getting up and waits to see what he intends to do.
The boy goes to the door, picks up the shoulder bag.
She makes a move to stop him, feels like she’s being fussy and ridiculous, and stops herself.

BOY
Thanks. Sorry, if…. Never mind. Thanks.

MAN
Best of luck.

BOY
Same to you. Same to you. Thanks.

The boy exits, the woman hesitates, then goes out after him.
The man is left alone. He can’t resist getting up and going to the window.
The woman and the boy stand in the yard, they seem to be debating something. The boy is shrugging his shoulders. She laughs, then the boy does, too.
They turn back toward the house.
The man pulls himself away from the window and quickly sits back down in his chair.
The woman and the boy come inside. She is carrying his shoulder bag.

WOMAN
I’ve made up my mind: Jokke’s been drinking and shouldn’t drive.

MAN
What could be more obvious.

WOMAN
Now let’s eat.

BOY
If this is an intrusion, then…. That’s not good.

MAN
If this is an intrusion, then somebody should leave. Namely me. Since some people don’t know how to behave with company nowadays the way their spouse would like them to. Namely, the very same me. Among other things. That he doesn’t know how to do. This me. So he is leaving now, so he won’t spoil Midsummer. I am. Good night.

He walks to the door and stumbles on the mat, which annoys him.
The woman and the boy remain standing in the cabin, surprised.
The man slams the door behind him. The windows clatter but don’t break.

Translated by Lola Rogers