Oksanen and All Things Indie

Sofi Oksanen came to Lappeenranta last Tuesday. I was lucky enough to have a few free hours in the middle of the day, so two of my classmates and I met at Suomalainen Kirjakauppa to see her.

"Tere, Sofi!" someone called out entreatingly when she arrived. She shuffled guardedly through the crowd and disappeared into the upper level of the shop. The crowd was perceptibly anxious. She returned within a few minutes, and her interview began. She spoke about all sorts of things, like her new book and Soviet propaganda.

Unfortunately, I haven't much to say on Sofi. After the event, I broke down and read a little of Puhdistus in English (Purge), and because I've been increasingly busy prior to the end of my fulltime Finnish course forever and ever, I've barely had any time to read it. Once I sink my teeth into it, I'm told it will be only a few days, if that, before I'm finished. Therefore, all I can say is that the book began in disconcertingly simple prose (which made me wonder about the translator, not about Oskanen herself), but it has expanded to become what I'd call "vivid yet tight". I should probably be reading it now rather than blabbing on the internet, but I've become rather enamored of another Finnish artist.

I was browsing Spotify for music to accompany my studying, and stumbled upon this:

and I nearly choked on the tip of my pen. My interest in folk music was reignited in an instant.

The art school douchebag in me was simultaneously elated and terrified. Who was this hauntinged siren? As it turns out, she's Mirel Wagner, born in Ethiopia, raised in Espoo.

Some of you are probably familiar with the poem "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe. If you are, you probably remember that the poem's speaker sleeps by his love's side in the sepulchre which houses her corpse. I can tell you, though, that this poem was far from the only one he ever wrote concerning something resembling necrophilia.

I say something resembling necrophilia because much of Poe's poetic oeuvre is distinctly asexual. To oversimplify it, he felt that it was poetry's function to provide the reader with an aesthetically pleasing glimpse of death, and that carnality generally obfuscated this purpose.

Mirel Wagner plays with similar themes in her lyrics, but she adds an unapologetic dose of carnality where Poe would have only allowed for corpse-cuddling. Combine it with her minimalist, bluesy folk, and there's something irresistible about her.

And I must admit that there's something unsettling and appealing about Wagner's tale of being visited by the devil in the middle of the night...

To lighten the mood, I also found this lovely electro-pop/noise-pop band called I Was a Teenage Satan Worshipper. I can only assume that he was a kinder, gentler satan than the one with which Mirel Wagner is acquainted.