If Jesus could, then why not the old Finnish gods? - a tall tale of the evangelization by Rutja, the son of the thunder-god.
Deities do not normally visit our world, but there has been many an epic or saga that speak of such events in high-flown gestures and poetic language, (also, it must be presumed, with a poetic license.) In the penmanship of Arto Paasilinna it encounters a third, less flattering, tradition: The tall tale. It is as irreverent as it is ridiculous, and always willing to forego any connection to reality in search of a laugh. It’s a storytellers’ tradition, an oral tradition which has ever been present when people met and interacted amicably, preferably with some sort of alcohol at hand – and if one can assume that good-humour serves the purpose of tightening the knots of social ties, then this has also been the role of the tall tale. Paasilinna never forgot these origins. His books kept a structure similar to that of the oral traditions, preserving them even though their format changed, and the laughter of the people of Finland, and elsewhere, proved that the tall tale does its job as well as it ever has.
The titular¹ protagonist is Rutja Ukkosenjumalanpojalle. This is quite a mouthful for those who do not speak Finnish, this reviewer included, so a translation is warranted, especially since the surname does such a grand job in introducing him: Rutja Thunder-God’s-Son is none other than the progeny of Ukko Overgod, the supreme deity of the Finnish pantheon, (who is also prone to electrical discharges, if that wasn’t already abundantly clear.) Sometime during the 80’s Ukko grew tired of the Jesuit domination of the Finnish people. The Finnish gods were a tolerant bunch and did not mind sharing their lot with other gods, but a line had now been crossed. Almost no one remembered them in their worship any more. Enough is enough, concluded the gods, and seeing how well Jesus did, they decided to use the same tactic and send to Earth the son of the topmost guy in the hierarchy. So they sent Rutja.
In a move worthy of a sitcom, Rutja decided to look up one of their few remaining loyal subjects, a Sampsa Ronkainen, the owner of an antiques shop and many women-related problems, and swap places. With a human body he was ready to messiah the hell out of the place. Of course, neither of the Finnish gods had paid much attention to the developments that the world had undergone the last few centuries, which is an obstacle that Rutja needed to make his way across somehow. He also needed apostles since that seemed to be part of Jesus’ recipe for success, but was unsure of where he could find them. Fortunately for him, Paasilinna’s Finland is filled with strange and unusual characters, so his chances should be good there.
This review is based on the Norwegian version of the book, but fortunately the Scandinavian peoples share with the Finnish an idea of what a tall tale should be like, and so we have a mutual appreciation for its comedy. In short, we agree that a good liar’s tale is one told as if its events are entirely true, and which is enticing enough that the listeners would have loved for it to be true, but which is told with a certain smirk, a gleam in the eye, and a subtle emphasis which lets the listener in on the secret that it’s all hogwash. Take this description for example:
Rauni is also called mother of the Earth. She gave the Ur-Finlanders the power to fight the mountain trolls, who are small devils with long tails. They do not brush their teeth and have other bad habits. If Rauni hadn’t existed, these mountain trolls would have conquered the Heavens and the Earth. (p.6; reviewer’s own translation)
This subtle undercurrent may be lost on some readers who doesn’t come from a place with similar storytelling traditions, but knowing that it is there will hopefully give them a deeper understanding of how this book and its comedy works.
Having said that, the most important lie is Rutja himself. He isn’t really the son of the god of thunder. At least in the sense that Rutja was never part of the original mythology, but is an invention of Paasilinna. What I will say, however, is that now that I’ve read the book, I feel that he should have been. I truly feel that Ukko should have had a son named Rutja, and in feeling that way I have verified that The Thunder-God’s Son lives up to the Finnish standard for an excellent tall tale: I would have loved for this to be true – at least mythologically since the Finnish gods seem to be a bit of a hassle at times.
1. The original Finnish title is Ukkosenjumalan poika, which translates to The Thunder-God’s Son.