I was born in 1957 in Finland. I completed my military service in the Kainuu Brigade, graduating as a reserve officer. Later, I worked in the field of voluntary national defense as a spokesperson and editor-in-chief of a reservist magazine, and participated in numerous refresher exercises around the North Karelia region.I also wandered a lot in the wilderness of Kainuu, where my father lived. I was attracted by the peace of nature, and all my free time with my wife was spent in the wilderness in our own hideaway. As I walked the terrain, I couldn't help but notice the scars of the Winter War. Soon, I became seriously interested in past events.
Finnish Simo Häyhä is the world's most famous sniper. The statement that best describes him is: One shot–one hit. Simo Häyhä still holds the top spot in the calculated world statistics for snipers with 542 kills. Häyhä still serves as a role model for all snipers, regardless of nationality.
In the Winter War on the Kollaa line, Häyhä made history by eliminating more than five hundred enemies. Häyhä was rewarded for his achievements in numerous different ways, such as by promoting him from lance sergeant directly to second lieutenant, by awarding him the Kollaa Memorial Cross, and by awarding him as the best sniper on the war front with a model 28 rifle manufactured by the SAKO arms factory. I have had the honor of holding that award rifle in my hand. It vividly reminded me of my own military sniper training in Kajaani.
Simo Hayha (1905 - 2002) is the most famous sniper in the world. During the Winter War fought between Russia and Finland in 1939 - 1940 he had 542 confirmed kills with iron sights, a record that still stands today. He has been a role model for snipers all over the world and paved the way for them by demonstrating their significance on the battlefield.
Simo Hayha was a man of action who spoke very little, but he was hugely respected by his men and his superiors and given many difficult missions, including taking out specific targets. Able to move…
As a journalist who explores the intersection of human health and planet health, I've long been fascinated by how stepping outside into a healthy environment can boost our well-being. I also believe that we are more likely to take positive climate actions when we have a rich connection to the natural world around us, so a lot of my work focuses on helping people get out into nature—whatever that looks like for them.
In this engaging read, science journalist Florence Williams travels the world to cover the research on the health benefits of exploring the outdoors. What I love about Florence’s writing is her ability to play the guinea pig so that readers can put themselves in her shoes—in this case, hiking boots.
For centuries, poets and philosophers extolled the benefits of a walk in the woods: Beethoven drew inspiration from rocks and trees; Wordsworth composed while walking over the heath; Nikola Tesla conceived the electric motor while visiting a park.
From forest paths in Korea to islands in Finland to eucalyptus groves in California, Florence Williams investigates the science at the confluence of environment, mood, health and creativity. Delving into new research, she uncovers the powers of the natural world to improve health, promote reflection and innovation, and strengthen our relationships. As our lives shift indoors, these ideas-and the answers they yield-are…
Although I’d been to Scandinavia many times as a translator and travel writer, it wasn’t until about twenty years ago that I spent significant time above the Arctic Circle, writing my travel book, The Palace of the Snow Queen. Over the course of three different winters spent in Lapland, I discovered a world of Sami history, politics, culture, and literature. I was particularly interested in the friendship between Emilie Demant Hatt and Johan Turi. It’s been inspiring over the past years to see a new generation of artists and activists shaping and sharing their culture and resisting continued efforts to exploit natural resources in territories long used by the Sami for herding and fishing.
This stunningly designed new book, available from the Sami publishers in Norway, has a fascinating historical text (in English and North Sami), put together by Sami artist Outi Pieski and Finnish curator Eeva-Kristiina Harlin. Together, they collaborated on a project centered around the ládjogahpir, the horn hat once widely worn by Sami women across the high North. They inventoried the remaining examples in museums and they began to hold workshops to teach contemporary Sami women how to make the hats. Along the way, they tell stories of how the hats disappeared or were collected, and discuss the idea of “rematriation” as part of new initiatives in the Nordic countries to return Sami craft and culture.
I am a writer and researcher from North Yorkshire, England. Although I’ve written extensively on pre-cinema history (for example, I co-wrote the BAFTA long-listed documentary, The First Film) I have also researched little-known stories connected with the natural world, particularly the beautiful Yorkshire Moors, where I live. My upcoming travelogue The Witches’ Waywill combine nature-writing with original historical research, and will be published by Open Space Books in the Autumn. I have long been an admirer of the poetryof Edward Thomas – bringing his long-forgotten fictionto a new audience has been a real passion project of mine.
Tove Jansson was one of my favourite authors as a child, thanks to her magical Moomin series.
Her fiction for adults, too (The Summer Book, Art in Nature) is wonderful. However, I have gone for one of her lesser-known books, Notes from an Island, which is simply a short journal with brief and starkly beautiful diary entries concerning the times she spent with her partner, Tuulikki Pietilä, on a barren and otherwise uninhabited island in the Gulf of Finland.
The book is a collaboration - Pietilä supplied stark, minimalist illustrations - and it also includes sections of a journal contributed by Brunström, the gruff mariner who helped the couple with their trips to and from the island.
Jansson’s writing style is as sparse as the island itself, reflecting the tough conditions, which nevertheless, did not preclude a life of artistic fulfillment for both her and Pietilä. This…
In the bitter winds of autumn 1963, Tove Jansson, helped by Brunstroem, a maverick fisherman, raced to build a cabin on a treeless skerry in the Gulf of Finland. The island was Klovharun, and for thirty summers Tove and her beloved partner, the graphic artist, Tuulikki Pietila, retreated there to live, paint and write, energised by the solitude and shifting seascapes.
Notes from an Island, published in English for the first time, is both a chronicle of this period and a homage to the mature love that Tove and 'Tooti' shared for their island and for each other. Tove's spare…
Throughout my life, I have been fascinated by humanity’s place within deeper time. As a boy, I collected rocks and fossils, and at university studied geology. The long term has also been a theme running throughout my journalism career at New Scientist and the BBC, and it inspired my research during a recent fellowship at Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the US. I believe we need to embrace a deeper view of time if we are to navigate through this century’s grand challenges – and if we can, there’s hope, agency, and possibility to be discovered along the way.
Vincent is a social anthropologist who spent a number of years in Finland completing a truly fascinating piece of fieldwork: he studied the people involved in planning the spent nuclear waste depository at Onkala.
This is a huge undertaking and responsibility, requiring its architects to project their minds tens of thousands of years into the future. Through his fieldwork, Vincent drew out various broader lessons for how to think longer-term.
What’s striking about Onkala is that the people involved in the planning are simply normal Finnish people tasked with an extraordinary job. To me that shows that deep time can be accessible to everyone, and indeed this is a theme that Vincent explores himself: seeking out long-term time in everyday experience can be cathartic, he argues.
A guide to long-term thinking: how to envision the far future of Earth.
We live on a planet careening toward environmental collapse that will be largely brought about by our own actions. And yet we struggle to grasp the scale of the crisis, barely able to imagine the effects of climate change just ten years from now, let alone the multi-millennial timescales of Earth's past and future life span. In this book, Vincent Ialenti offers a guide for envisioning the planet's far future—to become, as he terms it, more skilled deep time reckoners. The challenge, he says, is to learn…
I love this book so much that I reread it every year. I read it in its original Swedish but the English translation is good, too.
I grew up “on” Tove Jansson, genius creator of the Moomintrolls. This book is for adults. It is gentle, yet piercing. An old woman and her granddaughter have small adventures and conversations about what matters, on a remote Finnish island. It doesn’t sound like much, but it is magic. It features illustrations (by the author) which take you right to the soulful setting.
This is one of those books that makes you ponder life’s big questions, while being about everyday life. Highly recommend. It’s only “second” on my list because I read and reread it, so it’s not a “find” to me, rather more like a bible?
In The Summer Book Tove Jansson distills the essence of the summer—its sunlight and storms—into twenty-two crystalline vignettes. This brief novel tells the story of Sophia, a six-year-old girl awakening to existence, and Sophia’s grandmother, nearing the end of hers, as they spend the summer on a tiny unspoiled island in the Gulf of Finland. The grandmother is unsentimental and wise, if a little cranky; Sophia is impetuous and volatile, but she tends to her grandmother with the care of a new parent. Together they amble over coastline and forest in easy companionship, build boats from bark, create a miniature…
I was born in 1957 in Finland. I completed my military service in the Kainuu Brigade, graduating as a reserve officer. Later, I worked in the field of voluntary national defense as a spokesperson and editor-in-chief of a reservist magazine, and participated in numerous refresher exercises around the North Karelia region.I also wandered a lot in the wilderness of Kainuu, where my father lived. I was attracted by the peace of nature, and all my free time with my wife was spent in the wilderness in our own hideaway. As I walked the terrain, I couldn't help but notice the scars of the Winter War. Soon, I became seriously interested in past events.
The Russian attack on Finland was supposed to lead to a quick occupation, but it turned out differently. The Finns defended tenaciously.
The Russians' certainty of victory soon turned to despair. Most of the mighty Russian army was forced to fight in a foreign country under extreme conditions in the grip of severe frosts, suffering huge losses. The Winter War finally destroyed the external international reputation of the Soviet Union's glorious Red Army.
This book examines several sources using three key battles of the Winter War and draws a sharp demarcation between the ill-prepared Russian troops and the Finns, who used their troops sparingly, utilizing the terrain and using inventive guerilla tactics to defend their homeland. Detailed maps help the reader follow the events.
I, too, have adopted these teachings after graduating from the army as a reserve officer.
As the author of four novels based on Finnish culture and history, I admire and respect the Finns for many qualities, including their intelligence, their strength and endurance, and their understated sense of humor. But the quality that impresses me most is what the Finns call sisu, which roughly translates to an ability to show stoic courage and tenacity in the face of adversity. The Finnish resistance to Stalin during the 105 days of the Winter War was a classic demonstration of that national trait. While researching this book, I had the privilege of interviewing five Finnish veterans, all of whom exemplified sisu while serving during the Winter War.
The story of the Winter War between Finland and Soviet Russia is a dramatic David versus Goliath encounter. When close to half a million Soviet troops poured into Finland in 1939, Stalin expected Finnish defenses to collapse or surrender. But they held firm. The Finns not only survived the initial attacks but succeeded in inflicting devastating casualties before superior Russian numbers eventually forced a peace settlement. This is a detailed and compelling guide to Finland's vital, but almost forgotten role in World War II. It reveals the untold story of determination and mastery of winter warfare that characterized Finland's fight for survival on the Easternn Front.
The story of the 'Winter War' between Finland and Soviet Russia is a dramatic David versus Goliath encounter. When close to half a million Soviet troops poured into Finland in 1939 it was expected that Finnish defences would collapse in a matter of weeks. But they held firm. The Finns not only survived the initial attacks but succeeded in inflicting devastating casualties before superior Russian numbers eventually forced a peace settlement. This is a rigorously detailed and utterly compelling guide to Finland's vital, but almost forgotten role in the cataclysmic World War II. It reveals the untold story of iron…
My lifelong search for how contemporary architecture can be as loved and graceful as the buildings and environments of our heritage have made me create numerous books, lectures, and films on matters I find crucial. But every new text seems to create more questions than answers. Perhaps it is better to build the talk? Architecture has dimensions, such as time, that make the reading richer than most books. But that brings you back to interpretation. It seems as books and buildings will be impossible to separate. At least for me.
There are more than one hundred books written on Alvar and Aino Aalto but none of them are as personal as the ones written by their friend Göran Schildt.
I hold The Human Factor highest. Alvar Aalto conceived a deep understanding of life and created a sensitive architecture that embraced it. He was praised for that, but Schildt goes beyond the glory and explains how humane architecture remained controversial in a technological era.
I was born in 1957 in Finland. I completed my military service in the Kainuu Brigade, graduating as a reserve officer. Later, I worked in the field of voluntary national defense as a spokesperson and editor-in-chief of a reservist magazine, and participated in numerous refresher exercises around the North Karelia region.I also wandered a lot in the wilderness of Kainuu, where my father lived. I was attracted by the peace of nature, and all my free time with my wife was spent in the wilderness in our own hideaway. As I walked the terrain, I couldn't help but notice the scars of the Winter War. Soon, I became seriously interested in past events.
This book is an excellent description of the harsh events of the Winter War, which still touch us today.
A war always needs at least two sides; in this case, the attacking side was the Russians and the Finns were defending their own country. The Soviet Union initially wanted to seize the buffer zone only to protect Leningrad, but the war soon expanded to occupy the whole of Finland. The Finns did not agree with the Russians at all and fought tenaciously for their independence and neutrality.
I warmly recommend that all readers familiarize themselves with the book's content, which presents the actions and traditional life values of both warring parties in a completely new light.
