Author Mark Munger (Cloquet River Press)

MM:

Where do you hang your hat, the place you call home? How is that location connected to Finnish American or Finnish culture, heritage, and history?

SS:

I don’t actually remember being born, but I (never) “grew up” in Palo Minnesota far “north of ordinary,” as we say on The Iron Range. Now my proverbial hat hangs in Duluth … but I’m really not much of a hat guy. Lol. And as far as Finns go, they got more Finns in Palo than in an Aquarium! The basic history of Palo in a nutshell, is that it was mostly all homesteads built by former iron ore miners blackballed by the mines for unionizing. Somewhere along the line the Norwegians showed up to keep us from going insane.

There’s still a handful of folks that Feak Spinnish there too. 

MM:

Was Finnish spoken around you? How about your early connections to Finnish heritage?

SS:

Yaya, the Grandparents knew a handful of words (mostly the swears) but really my Finnish language came from Duolingo and YouTube. Plus, the Berlitz Learn Finnish in Sixty Minutes CD I “long term borrowed” from the Mt. Iron Library. It’s been a LOOOOONG sixty minutes: eleven years, I think.

I’m about as good as I can get in terms of speaking Finnish without a teacher, friends, or investing hours a day into it. Maybe halfway fluent. The vocab is there: grammar not so much. And ya, heritage has been all over my life. Saunas, Mölkky, breakfast foods. I grew up near the Laskiainen Festival in Palo, so that was always something to look forward too. I’ve even competed in Wife Carrying a few times!!!

Plus, we still have some Finnish Tunes in the hymnal at church! I’ve been the organist for a few years. And even in childhood I remember hearing “Jeesus Mua Rakastaa” 

MM:

Knowing you to be a gifted, professional musician, where did your interest in music come from?

SS:

Music from my childhood? My mother shoved ABBA down my throat, classic rock constantly, and country too. I honestly never liked music … still don’t! Just kidding: To me, music is a vehicle for the deep thoughts of an artist. I prefer listening to Rodney Dangerfield’s Stand-Up Highlights to gentle pop music. Most of my songs have a surface meaning as well as a deep one. It gets so creative even the artist can’t understand it! But the jokes make it easier to digest.

When I was in high school, an uncle played a Bobby Aro CD for me: Finn-glish Fun! That changed everything! I wasn’t forbidden to be a musician. But there wasn’t much urgency to support that choice either. I remember my first couple of trombone lessons as a fifth grader. My step-dad said something like, “One of us needs to bring Steven to horn blowing class.” When I played accordion, the folks looked at me like I was about to bomb the property: it wasn’t the best environment for a musician to start off. But disappointing everybody, now that’s what’s made it fun! 

Step-dad was a miner and mom worked in a hospital. They were up early. As a high schooler, I’d be sauntering in from a gig when the step-dad was going to work. I had a cheap little keyboard. I’d take an extension cord and a lamp into my closet and stuff clothes under the door to mute it. I’d shingle roofs or work fast food during the day and practice music at night. I would have traded years of my life to have taken piano lessons earlier. But it was not to be. Nevertheless, my dreams could not be dissolved by the circumstances of my life. And they still can’t now. I’ll outwork any competition: it’s terrifying what I’ll put myself through to entertain.

I love my folks, and I always will. But supportive families can be a double-edged sword. To be honest, I think I got better in music because I honed my skills in introverted, rural silence. I’d play my accordion for the cows when no one was home. They always cared and they always listened, though they never bought a ticket! 

MM:

Explain your musical training. I note your bio says you attended Rowan University.

SS:  

I never didn’t start piano lessons until 2015 (when I was eighteen). I was a late bloomer. I had to be forced into choir and theater by peer pressure. Even though I was a courageous youth, playing trombone abnormally well in band was really a nerdy, inside joke. I may have had dreams back then, but I never saw a future in music until I started making money. A lot of the motivation honestly came from shutting up all the people telling me to get a real job. “A simple-minded farm boy like you is best be fit for the mines or in military.” That quote lives rent free in my mind. I won’t mention who said it, but he motivated me by saying it!

Another character from my Musical Mt. Rushmore is Veda Zuponcich. There’s a documentary, Iron Opera that reveals in depth her impact on my life. From troubled youth; to hostile teen; to confident college kid; Veda deserves a lot of the credit. She’s responsible for me going to college and validating the existence of art in my life. I grew up very tentative in art. I’m so glad she found me and that I found art. It saved my life. But that’s another story.

Rowan University made me twice the man I am (and eight times the musician!). I got to be a little fish in a big pond. Six hours a day on piano, skipping parties to compose and rehearse: it didn’t last long. I played trombone in the pep band: my first instrument, and first love. Played piano, even accompanied a little. Got into church organ a bit. But the accordion was my breadwinner. I played the Hurdy Gurdy in a medieval music ensemble. Got a harp somewhere in there. Bagpipes too. I play over twenty-four instruments. But remember gang: it’s not about the number, it’s about the memories!

Then the rise started (if you can call it a rise.) Two engineering buddies signed me up for the battle of the bands competition as a one-man band. It was a joke. They knew I could play instruments with my feet AND my hands. Their pressure caused me to assemble a ragtag one-man band out of duct tape and prayer. The rest is history. The passion, the niche, the confidence, the creativity: it was all unique, and the future was bright as the sun. 

MM:

Presently, you tour as “Steve Solkela’s Overpopulated One Man Band”. Could you tell the readers of FAR what went into your decision to become a solo act, one that not only includes music but a hint (just a hint) of self-deprecating humor?

SS:

God forbid someone shakes up this earth with humor!

What kind of nerd is a “serious musician” anyway? Humor is the purpose of life. You can still do a few sensitive pieces and arias amongst the laughter: help people be removed from their daily woes and trials at your shows. That’s my advice to any musician confused about his or her purpose. Life is complex: you are simple. Make things better by being you! Even Mozart was known for his bold sense of humor. Quit licking the salt shaker and live a little! 

As far as the one-man band, it’s a product of my environment. I tried to collaborate with people. I learned the lesson, OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, that people don’t care, and will never be as passionate as I am about music. I’ve started fourteen bands. Only six have been profitable and only three had everyone pulling their own weight. You have to pick your battles. I learned the hard way that I was the only one who’d show up when it mattered.

It started as accordion practice on the farm. I’d get paid gigs and try to share it with drummers, bass players, piano players etc. … but they would flake. “Collaboration is key!” Flake. “I’m getting lonely here with all these gigs.” Flake .”I’ll send you video clips of the bass part if you’re having a hard time learning.” FLAKE. I’d type up music, get gigs, advertise, take photos, do social media, incur most of the costs, handle all the phone calls and confrontation … and they’d flake! Four-digit gig in Michigan, three months’ notice and my bandmates couldn’t get off work at Walmart. Flake. Start a band, set weekly rehearsal times convenient to their work schedule. FLAKE! Go to their house to rehearse and the doors are locked. FLAKE! 

So, yes, the One-Man Band started out of pure anger and hatred for liars. Now, I make my living from music: doing over two hundred gigs a year and selling my T-Shirts and CDs. I’ve performed on five continents. And contrary to my resentment to flakers, I hope they all eat. I hope they find fulfillment through music, and I hope they find the courage to not only accept a challenge but attempt it. The standards I set for myself would crush an average man. I’ve never found the healthy work/life balance. I gave up the life portion to pursue greatness with all my ability.

As for scaling back, I flaked on two out of over two hundred gigs last year. One because I went in the ditch on my way to that gig and once due to a massive snowstorm. 

Long story short, flakiness is a pet peeve of mine.  If you work with a musician like me, bring your A game.

MM:

I know you tour quite a bit, having just come back this spring from traveling that included a jaunt to Florida.

SS:

I’ve been quite the globetrotter. I believe I’ve performed in over twenty states and five countries. Sometimes I just fly with an accordion and leave all the one-man band instruments and trinkets behind. Whatever the gig calls for. Some of my absolute favorite places are New Jersey; UP Michigan; Milwaukee, WI; Jerome, AZ; Lantana, FL; Oulu, Finland, Kaleva Hall on the Iron Range; and good ol’ Duluth, MN. 

My repertoire is diverse. I keep the Finnish stuff to a minimum unless it’s requested. Comedy goes over best. I do a lot of covers: I’m better than a jukebox! When I was in Finland, it was before my prime as an entertainer. I really hope I can go back now that I’m entering my prime. Maybe the summer of 2024? Start a rumor! Finland is a very different world but I can’t wait to see it again. Maybe I’ll bring my unicycle …

MM:

Could you given the readers an idea of your recordings, where they can be found, and what else might be in the works?

I’ve made seven CDs in my lifetime. One a year since 2015. Sold out the first 3 but I’ve no interest in pressing more. I’ve improved so much since then: every musician hates their past work. You know you’re doing it right when you’re regularly crushed by your own standards. There’s nothing easy about it: so many sleepless nights.

I owe much of my success to a fella by the name of Rich Mattson at Sparta Sound in northern Minnesota. He recorded six of my albums and was able to harness whatever you want to call this caffeine-fueled-tidal-wave-of-creative-rage that is “me” into something beautiful. That man is also on my Mt. Rushmore. My music can be found on Spotify Apple iTunes YouTube, or on CDs purchased from me at gigs. 

MM:

Are you available for events? Is there a Solkela YouTube channel?

SS:

Youbetcha there’s a YouTube Channel. It’s called “Solkelamaniax” check it out!

I’m comically easy to get a hold of. Facebook is easiest: I post my schedule on my page monthly. But I do the Insta, Snappychat, and even telekinesis! Plus, the website (which I need to update) but you can reach my team at www.stevesolkela.com .

My schedule is packed, but like every working-class person, my time and talent is available for purchase. 

MM:

Last question. Do you think your accordion skills will ever rise above “average”? (Your word choice, not mine!)

SS:

LOL! Humility is a weird thing. If you talk to an old accordionist who knows the standards from the 50s, I suppose I might appear weak in repertoire. At least, before I started the Polka Band and learned most of the old stuff. But the truth is, there’s over 6000 songs in my repertoire. If I ask that same old accordionist to play the metal, rap, Finnish reggae, or classic rock I know, the tables would turn. The creative and committed server (my brain) rivals a robot! Come to a show: I take requests and can do just about anything, including playing my accordion on a unicycle. 

The truth is, I’m an incredible accordionist (gosh, I hope so). I skipped so many social events to practice and compose. The discipline I possess isn’t humane but I won’t allow my ambition to be tarnished. Humility works hard to make sure you never get credit for your work. I’m glad I started believing in myself more after college. So much time was wasted with the self-deprecating stuff that was deemed safe by my conditioning.

It’s a great show I’ve conjured up. Music, comedy, stunts. A twenty-three-piece one-man band! Humor. Danger. Even time travel (musically).  I’m proud of it and folks are going to love it! I wish I’d have ignored all the comments weighing me down earlier in my life. It took years, but I gave myself permission to be myself when no one else did. I’ve given my life meaning through sheer focus of will and the desire to amount to something. We’ll all confront death. Will you be proud? I, for one, am proud of what I’ve been able to do artistically in the short time my hourglass sand has been falling. In the end, I believe I’ll be remembered as the hardest-working entertainer of all time.

Thank you so much for interviewing me!

(This interview originally appeared in the August 2023 edition of the Finnish American Reporter)

                                    INTERVIEW OF NATALIE SALMINEN RUDE

MM:

Your last name, Salminen, is definitely Finnish.

NR:

My Finnish heritage stems from my father. My great-grandfather, Alfred, moved from Vaasa, Finland to Toronto in 1903. He fled Finland as a young husband and father because the Russian army was kidnapping young Finnish men to serve in the Russian army. He sailed to Toronto, moved to North Dakota, and then to Virginia, MN to work in the iron mines. Great-grandfather Salminen then moved his wife and four children from Finland to Virginia, where my grandfather, Bernhardt Veikko Salminen, was born. He grew up speaking Finnish and English and taught his parents English. Eventually, my great grandparents received their citizenship, of which they were very proud. My grandfather then met my Swedish grandmother in Denver, CO. He’d been drafted into WWII and stationed in Denver. They married and settled in Mahtomedi, MN.

My mother’s mother was Swedish. Growing up with a robust Scandinavian heritage was a defining element of our family. Ancestral reminders came from nursery rhymes sung by our grandparents in Swedish and Finnish, from the food they made, the slang they spoke, the sauna’s they stoked, and the stories they told. It came from the artwork on the walls and from the napkins on the table, from the needlework and the candy dishes and the glass birds sitting on their shelves. It came from the morning kahvi and pulla bread and from the salty black licorice I’d sneak from the glass dish besides my grandpa’s arm chair. Although my grandpa did not teach my father Finnish because they were “American”, the pride of that heritage was clearly felt and celebrated.

MM:

I recently interviewed watercolorist John Salminen and he confided you’re not related …

NR:

It’s wild that John and I aren’t related given our shared surname and love of art. I met him at my first solo show in the George Morrison Gallery in 2005. I was honored he attended. He told me that when I was in high school, he received many phone calls at his house looking for me! We’ve crossed paths at other events. His work is a true gift to our community and the world.

MM:

How did you become involved in art?

NR:

I wasn’t overtly artistic as a child but I always had a very, very strong aesthetic conviction. In kindergarten (ask my mom!) I had an eye for design and beauty. In both middle and high school, I was blessed to have Tom Rauschenfels and John Harder as art educators at Hermantown. Their encouragements became confirming voices. As a young person, I formed the image that artists were selfish, solitary beings, who were out of touch with their realities and communities. After a few years of international travel, I pursued a BFA from UW-Superior and worked as a studio assistant for Jay Steinke and Lisa Stauffer. Even so, I still didn’t want to be an artist. But I knew it would be the only thing I’d enjoy pursuing at UWS. Timothy Cleary was my sculpture professor at UWS and he sang the same beautiful encouragements I’d heard earlier. His mentorship was also paramount to my artistic unfolding.

After more travel, I met two accomplished artists in south Florida, Clyde and Niki Butcher. They mentored me and helped me get started as a professional, working artist. My youthful idea of what an artist is matured while witnessing their lives. They worked hard and hand-in-hand with their community, as well as with conservation agencies around the country, to document “the last of wild Florida.” Their example gave me the vision of the arts at work I needed to see embodied.

I’ve been continually inspired by fellow artists and supporters. When someone is willing to invest in you, when someone believes in the work you’re doing, there’s no greater agent for motivation and living out one’s purpose.

MM:

What have been the disciplines in art in which you’ve concentrated?

NR:

My BFA concentrations were ceramics and oil painting. I love the physicality of ceramics, but the color that came from oil painting was the language I wanted to speak most. I also began exploring encaustic medium: a marriage of physicality and color. Encaustic has become a primary medium for me: its versatility is mind-blowing. It’s an ancient medium of beeswax, damar resin, and pigment, fused by heat. Encaustic is created by painting in layers. Within each layer, the wax may be carved into, sculpted or have mixed media embedded. The possibilities are endless. (The Egyptians painted funerary portraits with encaustic: it’s impervious to moisture. These Fayum portraits are still with us today, almost 3000 years old!)

My studio is multidisciplinary. I work in both two and three dimensions, incorporating printmaking, sculpture, oil, encaustic, mixed media, collage, photography, and haiku poetry.

My current passion is my forever passion – which is to follow my curiosity. Wonder is my creative fuel! I’ll never not be amazed. I’m grateful that I’m able to follow what intrigues me and work out these ideas in whatever medium communicates the ideas best. I truly love what I do. And whatever I seem to be exploring  – whether the work of the Finnish design house, Marimekko, or of the late French sociologist and theologian, Jacques Ellul, and his work on the sociological impacts of technology, writing fables celebrating the North Shore of Lake Superior, or creating encaustic paintings of the BWCA to pair with the writings of conservationist and author Sigurd F. Olson – all of these explorations are nuanced and layered, just like my work. I want to be a bridge builder and draw more people to see their own place within the arts. Creativity is everyone’s birthright.

MM:

 Why Haiku?

NR:

What a gift this humble poetry has become for me! Haiku is an ancient Japanese literary form that traditionally follows the form of three lines in seventeen syllables – five, seven and five, respectively.

I started writing haiku to go along with photographs I was taking. Haiku captures an essence, a moment in time. In my studio practice Haiku has become a doorway to so many things! I had a brick-and-mortar studio and showroom in Hunter’s Park a few years ago, aptly named Studio Haiku.

studio haiku

a poetic atmosphere

for creative acts

With all the clanging cymbals and noisy gongs that fill our cultural climate, haiku gives us space to think upon one idea slowly, contemplatively.

like a small smooth stone

rolling thoughts around with care

quietly, I see

And isn’t that what we crave more of today amidst this hectic pace? Start writing little poems with your higher power and see what happens! Here’s one for the Finns amongst us:

to be determined

commitment sans flamboyance

is haiku Finnish?

That one made me laugh out loud! Reminds me of the Finn who loved his wife so much he almost told her!

MM:

Have you been to Finland?

NR:

In 1993, my great aunt invited me to Stockholm where she and my great uncle lived. She also took me to Finland. I was struck by the similarities of landscape to my Minnesotan home. I remember thinking to myself, “This is why all my ancestors moved to Minnesota! It looks exactly like home!” We visited many in Helsinki as well as Turku and traveled mostly by ship and train. I was so at peace in those familiar woods and waters. In 1997 I traveled to Norway. I’d love to return again to Scandinavia. I’d like to visit Finland to explore the strong Finnish-Japanese connection and investigate how haiku fits into that relationship. I’m so curious to explore how the Scandinavian and Japanese people express of their strong love of the natural world through art and design and to explore how this cross-cultural love affair began.

MM:

What Finnish heritage themes did you experience as a child and growing up in NE Minnesota?

NR:

 Sadly, I don’t write or speak Finnish but Finnish heritage was something we were brought up to be proud of. On my father’s side, we heard our grandparents speaking both Finnish and Swedish and my grandparent’s home was full of culturally significant items. Everything had a story. Everything had meaning. Textiles, glasswork, portraits, maps, needlework, jewelry, food. Each artifact told me a little bit about who I was.  At their home we ate krupsu for breakfast and mojakka for dinner. And of course, there was kahvi and pulla every midmorning. We grew up with sauna: it was a cultural, familial rhythm not only at my grandparent’s home but also in my own childhood home. Now, in my own home, I share that heritage with my children. Keeping my last name was also critical in terms of staying connected to my heritage. It has brought wonderful Finnish connections in art and I’ve been able to participate in a host of Finnish-American exhibits. For example, I recently exhibited work for Finlandia University’s 31^st Contemporary Finnish American Artist Series and I’m looking forward to participating in Finn Fest here in Duluth at the end of July.

MM:

 You’re the mother of three, your husband is a pastor, and we just came through a Pandemic. How did that affect your kids, your art, your ability to create?

NR:

We have three phenomenal children who all needed to be home at some point during the pandemic. Josh works as a pastor, a chaplain, and owns Glørud Design: a woodworking design studio. There was so much upheaval for us, like there was for most people, but the pandemic was also illuminating. For me it has been the Great Exposition of sorts. It’s been difficult, but cleansing. It steered me towards celebrating our humanity (and our limitations) and continues to steer me away from dehumanization.

The beginning of Covid was the end of my retail energies: I knew I was being called to part ways with the “hustle” culture. My shop was doing well but I wasn’t making much art. I just didn’t have the bandwidth for it all. Covid came at the perfect time for me to make my exit from bending to the demands of the market. I knew that if my authentic studio practice was to survive, I’d have to say no – even to good things.

I also chose to take that first year (2020) away from the internet and social media. It wasn’t until I stopped the online noise that I was more able to hear my own thoughts.

MM:

 You collaborated with Jordan Sundberg on a book, Fables of the North Shore.

NR:

 The Fables of the North Shore has been a joyous riot. Jordan Sundberg and I were asked to collaborate on an exhibit. When we talked about what we wanted to do, “play” was the word we both heard. We took that call to play and joy ensued! We had so much fun working together. Initially, we wrote five fables that highlight the treasures and lore of all things North Shore. These are timeless stories for all ages and all lovers of this amazing place we live in.

After we wrote the stories, we made any art that came to mind in terms of illustrating the fables. It flowed easily. Jordan and I had both wanted to stretch our studio muscles so we explored new mediums. We created seagull mobiles and dioramas complete with (encaustic) thimbleberry candies, Glørud canoe paddle collages, lovely drawings of the harbor in Grand Marais, paintings of smelt tacos with a side of blueberries, and a rouge taconite pellet … it was just pure visual delight.

We had an amazing response. Many requests were made for a book. We self-published the fables along with photos of the art work. The book was ready by the closing of the show in September. There was such an amazing energy and joy around the project, we just kept going with it – and in the end, we commissioned eight talented puppeteers to perform the fables live at the book release and closing party. You can find the book in many places: REI (their Bloomington location);  Zenith Books and the Bookstore at Fitger’s in Duluth; Duluth shops (Frost River, DLH, Siiviis Gallery); up the Shore in Lutsen, Silver Bay, and Grand Marais; or on my website.

MM:

 Where can folks see your art?

 NR:

 I’m excited to be a part of a group show of Finnish American artists for Finn Fest this summer. Our show, “Inspiraatioita: Finnish Art and Design in Minnesota” will take place at the Nordic Center in Duluth from July 26th-30th, with an evening reception date of Friday, July 28th from 7pm-9pm. All are welcome! I will be showing prints from work I created for Finland’s 100th year of independence that celebrate the Finnish design house, Marimekko, and the creative women at its helm.

I also show my work on at Lizzards Gallery in Duluth. I sell art giclée prints, books and haiku at www.nataliesalminen.com. I’m working on a new painting series for a show at the New Scenic Cafe, as well as work for a multidisciplinary show on technology that I hope to bring to Chicago in 2024.

(This interview first appeared in the July 2023 issue of The Finnish American Reporter)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Strangers in a Strange Land by John B. Simon (2019. Hamilton. ISBN 978-0-7618-7149-1)

I had never heard of this author or this title until I found myself invited to be part of a panel at this year’s Finn Fest in my hometown of Duluth, Minnesota. I did a quick Google of my other panelist and the moderator and that’s how I came to know this book. John B. Simon and I will be sharing our experiences regarding Finnish and Finnish American fiction in Duluth at the DECC on July 28 at 10:30. The discussion will be moderated by Dr. Suzanne Matson, Finlandia National Foundation’s Lecturer of the Year for 2023. I’m humbled to be in such company. But being asked to participate made me want to know and understand Mr. Simon’s work, which includes this title. So I ordered a copy of Strangers and dug in. 

Three young Jews, Benjamin, David, and Rachel, all full citizens of Finland at the beginning of the Winter War, form the key characters for the fictional portions of what Finland’s Jews experienced during the Winter War, the Continuation War, and the Lapland War, spanning 1939-1944. I say fictional portions because the format of this book is not simply another war novel. Interspaced with Simon’s depictions of the day-to-day lives, loves, travails, and successes of the three fictional characters (and their families) is a non-fiction historical narrative that educates the reader, in a very flawless and succinct way, about the Jews of Finland: their history, struggles, and enduring legacy. Never more than a few thousand souls, it would be wrong to judge the importance of a religious minority such as the Jews of Finland based upon size alone. This is especially the case when, as Simon portrays things, Finland’s Jews appear to be pawns in a tripartite political game of chicken between Finland, its traditional backer, Germany, and its former imperial master, Russia in the guise of the Soviet Union.

At first, as I struggled to get my bearings in this unusual book, I found myself questioning the author’s artistic choice, to create a hybrid of story and history, rather than a book that was one or the other. But as the narrative of the non-fiction unfolded and the lives of the three protagonists came clearer into focus in relation to events being depicted, I thought, By Jove, he’s done it! What was very interesting to me, as a writer, was the fact that many aspects of my own historical novel, Sukulaiset: The Kindred, are set in the same time frame as this work and cover much of the same ground, including the choices made by Finland and Estonia before and during the wars depicted, as well as the fate of eight unfortunate, foreign Jews who were dispatched from Finland to the Gestapo. We are vastly different writers and yet, I came to respect Mr. Simon’s retelling of that story in ways that I had not expected.

If you are interested in history, Judaica, Finnish history, or the less-well-known aspects of WW2, and are also a fan of well-drawn characters and fictional narratives, you will like this book. I certainly did. I look forward to meeting the author and trading stories about writing fictional accounts of Finns and their history.

4 and 1/2 stars out of 5. 

Mark

 

The Girl from Venice by Martin Cruz Smith (2017. Audible. ISBN 978-1439140246)

So, this was another book I “cheated” on as a book club assignment. I listened to most of this while walking the track at the local YMCA and finished it listening in my car. The seminal question, given I’m in the process of tackling my own Holocaust novel set in Slovenia during WW2 (with scenes set in Croatia, Poland, Norway, and Austria as well) is this: Does the world really need another novel about the destruction of Europe’s Jews? The answer is a qualified “yes” and this book meets my qualification. 

Smith has given us a story set in Venice, and unravels an uniquely interesting and unexplored peek into the Holocaust during the last days of German rule during the time-frame of Mussolini’s fall, capture, and death. The story’s main protagonists are as follows: Cenzo a reluctant Italian soldier who comes home to resume his life of a fisherman after being discharged for refusing to use poison gas on African villagers; Guilia Silber, the always in jeopardy, obligatory Jewish beauty; and Giorgio, Cenzo’s actor brother who is at times, his brother’s foil and at times, his savior. There are a host of other minor characters who populate the tale but the plot rests upon the well-muscled, strong shoulders of Cenzo. The plot is engaging. The historical details are well researched, well placed, and don’t bog the story down. And the action is unrelenting. My only critique is that Cenzo, supposedly a somewhat downtrodden, ignorant fisherman, speaks and thinks more like a college professor, making him Giulia’s equal, than like a peasant. But that aside, I loved the read and would recommend this book to other book clubs not exhausted by the plethora of Holocaust books (hopefully, mine included) that have been released in the past decade. 

My qualification for a new read based upon the Holocaust to be worthy of a read is that it cover new ground regarding that topic in engaging and riveting fashion. This book meets that requirement.

4 and 1/2 stars out of 5

 

The Long Norwegian Night by O.M. Magnussen and Kaare A. Bolgen (2013. Fern Hill. ISBN 978-1-48403244-2)

This book is actually an English translation of a memoir by Norwegian POW O. M. Magnussen, a member of the Norwegian resistance to Nazi occupation of Norway during WW II. Bolgen includes Magnussen’s original artwork, drawings done on scraps of paper by Magnussen in various prison cells and concentration camps where he was interned during his long incarceration. The main reason I purchased this book was as background for a novel about the Holocaust and its aftermath in the Balkans that I’m currently researching and writing. One of my characters in my novel is transferred from Croatia to Norway, arriving at the Falstad Labor Camp, before being sent to Grini, another concentration camp run by the SS and its Norwegian counterpart, and a camp that Magnussen spent time at. 

I’ll be candid: I tore through this memoir in a few days, reveling in the details and the storytelling that make it a very captivating read. As with my review of The Girl From Venice (above), as I write a fictional rendition of what Yugoslavians went through during. the war, including brutality against Jews, Roma, Serbs, Communists, and others by the Ustaše (Croatian Fascists), the seminal question I ask myself is: Does the world really need another Holocaust novel? The answer, so long as it covers new and unique ground is “yes”.  This book satisfies that requirement. It’s also well written and engaging though, given it is one man’s experience at the hands of the Gestapo and the SS, it’s of limited scope. For my purposes, it was a fine addition to my research and anyone who has an interest of what took place in Norway during the war would be well served to pick up a copy and read it.

4 stars out of 5

Peace

Mark

Found on Goodreads:

“INCREDIBLE book. As a Minnesota gal with Finnish ancestry and relatives from Michigan that moved to Minnesota. It felt as though this could have been one of my ancestors. Beautiful storytelling and realistic representations of life during the era of the book. Lovingly careful with the personalities and immigrant stories. I loved it! I gave it to my mom to read, she loved it. I gave it to my dad to read, and he loved it!”K. Ferrier

Hope to sell a few of these, along with the other two installments in the Finnish American Trilogy, at Finn Fest! See you there.

Peace

Mark

The Kids Are Gonna Ask by Gretchen Anthony (2020. Park Row. ISBN 978-0-7783-0874-4)

My title says it all. I did not toss this novel in the trash as I did one of John Irving’s worst. I did not stop reading 100 pages in (though I should have) as I did with one of Stephen King’s worst. I soldiered on, despite my doubt at where the plot and the characters of this read were headed. I shouldn’t have plowed ahead. I should’ve stopped.

This is the tale of two adolescents who, having lost their mother to a horrific accident, and never having known their father (the family lore is that they were the offspring of a one night skiing trip/romance that took place when Bess, the mom, was in college), use modern technology (a podcast) to search for Dad. Along the way we learn that these kids ain’t starving, uncared for, unloved, underprivileged kids. No. They live with their maternal grandmother Maggie who really doesn’t know much more about Dad than the kids do. Maggie is a person of means. She has a chef who prepares all the meals for the household. Let that sink in. How in God’s name are we supposed to have any sympathy or find any empathy for two orphaned kids when they have it all, they live as One Percenters and don’t really, other than sadness over their mother’s death, have a care in the world.

This is, in a word, a terrible read. I didn’t find the plot structured or compelling. The issue of absent dads is, for sure, a real issue in modern-day America. But it turns out that Jack, the father, isn’t a deadbeat or an asshole: he was just never told by Bess he was the father of twins. The two main protagonists, the twins Thomas and Samantha aren’t endearing, or memorable, or really even crafted in a way one cares whether they find Dad or not. Same thing for every other character in the book, including the “antagonist”, Sam, a get-rich-off-the-kids-media mogul who isn’t really scary or evil or anything much other than annoying.

I stand corrected. Jack, the dad, is somewhat interesting, at least as it concerns his occupation as a charter fisherman, being a drunk, and as a lost soul. In fact, come to think of it, this would have been a much better book if it was told from his frame of reference throughout. Then, perhaps, maybe, there’s a story to captivate readers and tackle modern day issues of absent parents, privacy, and instant media.

Sadly, this book, a book I “won” during the dice game at Christmas, should have stayed in it wrapping paper.

2 stars out of 5. Don’t waste your time like I did.

Peace

Mark

Pedaling on Purpose by Ken Rogers and Steve Anderson (2008. Inspirit. ISBN 978-1-60461-634-7)

Another “read” loaned to me by my friend, Ronaldo. It’s actually not his book but one he borrowed from mutual friends. The book is personally signed to those folks so I’ll need to get it back to Ronaldo so he can return it.

Any way.

The authors, Rogers and Anderson, decided, really on a whim, to support the Minnesota chapter of the Make a Wish Foundation (an organization that funds wishes for severely ill children) by bicycling into (not through) all 48 contiguous states of these United States of America. The authors pedaled through rain, snow, sleet, heat, cold, bugs, dogs, and assorted other challenges on the way to completing a trip that exceeded 10,000 miles. Rogers had zero previous long distance biking experience and purchased the Trek he rode throughout the arduous journey only weeks before the pair departed the Twin Cities. Anderson had some experience in long-distance biking but nothing remotely close to what the duo engaged in during this ride.

Though not especially well written in a literary sense, this book has a lot going for it, from the audacious decision by both men to quit their jobs and bike around the nation; to their persistent banter and less-than-helpful minor squabbles; to episodic kindnesses the pair received from complete strangers in terms of lodging, food, donations, and support. I enjoyed this tale immensely and, though I was a bit put off by the use of bold type to differentiate Anderson’s contributions to the book (it was mildly distracting), I got over that criticism to read on. It was especially helpful to see more photos chronicling this incredible ride towards the end of the story: I wish there’d been more snapshots taken in the beginning, especially the portions involving the American West where the riders were challenged by wide open spaces, mountains, and arid deserts. 

Throughout the “read” the authors, Rogers in particular, share their Christian faith with their audience and explained how, in some instances, faith communities opened their arms to receive and house the pair, and, at least on one occasion (when a Catholic priest slammed the door to the rectory in their faces) didn’t. The inclusion of religion in the story made sense given the toil and hardship and sheer determination of will that went into completing the trip so that money could be raised to make children’s dreams, if only for a moment, come true.

Truly inspiring and well worth the time spent accompanying two brave men on their quest.

4 stars out of 5.

Peace

Mark

C,S,N,&Y by David Browne (2019. Hachette. ISBN 978-0306922633)

They are my Beatles. And, in some ways, the rise and fall of this great American band, the band I grew up listening to through covers of their best stuff played by my buddies at high school dances, mirrors that of the Fab Four. What do I mean? Well, Browne lays it all out: the jealousy between the fabulously talented guitar licks and songwriting of Neil Young versus the sometimes brilliant and often times mundane contributions of his other three bandmates to the legacy of their work (think John and Paul versus Ringo and George). Steve Stills, whose career started with Young in the Buffalo Springfield, shot his wad, in many ways, very early on in BS and through his early contributions to C,S, & N. “For What It’s Worth”,  “Love the One You’re With”, and “Carry On”, are some of his most important contributions to our musical heritage and they all were written very early in Stills’s lengthy career. Crosby (kicked out of another supergroup, the Byrds), always the best of the band’s voices, was never a great or prolific songwriter, tending to moody, strange, off-the-cuff tunes that, while very personal, didn’t really sell beyond his initial solo offering, If I Could Only Remember My Name, a cult classic. And Nash, the sensible, intelligent, former member of the Hollies, hit the mark as well with his early solo album, Songs for Beginners. But after that, the mule carrying the egos of the quartet was all Neil, plain and simple.

This was another ’round the YMCA track “listen” for me. And it was a gem. Granted, those of you who aren’t big fans might get bored as to the detail Browne invests in telling the stories of these four talented musicians. But for anyone who possesses and cherishes the original C,S, & N album, Deju Vu, the two later-in-career studio reunion albums from the full quartet, or, my personal favorite, a glimpse of the band at its peak despite its flaws, Four Way Street (the clunky piano mishaps on “Chicago” notwithstanding), or have followed Young’s mercurial career and his oft-misfiring journeys away from the sound that made him a legend, this book is a must read.

The chronicling of Crosby’s addictions and near-death experiences; the frail ego of Stills when his work is compared with Young’s; the snappy comebacks of Nash to criticisms of his and the band’s work; and the on-again-off-again participation of Young in group projects; are all here for you to discern, consider, and apply to your own view of the band’s importance to American rock and roll.  Though the story ends short of Crosby’s recent death, this is as complete rendition of the band’s sad, joyful, filled-with-jealousy complexity you’ll ever encounter. 

A great book about good to great singer/songwriters who rarely saw got along.

4 and 1/2 stars out of 5.

Peace

Mark

 

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tocarzcak (2019. Penguin (Audible) ISBN   978-0525541349)

My book club, the Greater Mesabi Men’s Book Club of Hibbing, Minnesota, is located over an hour from my rural NE Minnesota home. Some time ago, I was invited to join the club after the guys read a couple of my novels, a snippet of the more than 450 works of fiction the club has read and discussed over its thirty-plus years of existence. As the Club’s newest (and youngest) member, what I love about this club is that the mix of members is so eclectic, you just never know what the next selection will bring. Drive Your Plow is a book I would never choose on my own but I’m glad I read it.

Janina Duszejko, the book’s first-person narrator, is a retired civil engineer living in the mountainous region of Poland along its border with the Czech Republic. She is working, after her career in construction has ended, as an English teacher in a local Catholic school. It’s an intriguing read insofar as language because the author, a Nobel prize winner, writes in Polish and must await translation of her work into the wider-read English language. I loved the woman who narrated the audio version: her accent alone called to mind a babushka-wearing older woman, whose health is plagued by a mysterious illness, and who is suddenly surrounded by dead bodies, all of them men, all of them neighbors. While critics (and the author) bill this novel as a crime thriller/mystery, that’s not really a good fit in terms of labeling. This is more of an introspective, literary reflection chronicling the narrator’s singular, loveless existence in the hinterlands, including her affection for and dedication to living things. She abhors hunting. She has lost her two “girls” (dogs) and that loss figures into the solving of the murders and the storyline. 

In the end, this was not a great tale. Nor was it especially suspenseful or thrilling in its pace, story, and unfolding. Rather, it’s a good read from a talented author and I enjoyed it, despite some dragging points here and there, to the very end.

4 stars out of 5. She’s a Nobel winner not for this book but for her body of work.

 

 

Going After Cacciato by Tim O’Brien (2011. Audible. ISBN 978-0767904421)

This is a read that was actually a listen. Again, as I try to stave off low back surgery by working out and walking the Hermantown Y track, I listen to novels and biographies and what have you, all of them provided by Audible. Being a fan of O’Brien’s work (he’s a Minnesotan so what’s not to like?), I selected this novel for my workout routine. I wasn’t disappointed.

This is unlike any other war novel you will ever read. If you are trying to replicate the internal angst and fear and combat weary feel of Matterhorn ( a great novel of the Vietnam War in its own right) or O’Brien’s slender, much loved The Things We Carried or If I Die in a Combat Zone, you’ll experience some of the same reactions and emotions you encountered reading/listening to those books while listening to/reading Going After.

But this book is far more experimental, far more cerebral in its conception and execution than simply a straight-on, tell-it-like-it-is war novel. You simply have to experience it to understand what I mean. Without giving away the store, all I can say is there is magic and mysticism in this tale. There are also imagery and longing and fear to be gleaned from a listen or read, all of which ring true despite the format and the narrative license the author engages in to tell the story of one squad, sent to find a deserter, as it heads west, out of the war. 

A fine book. I’m not sure if it deserved to be book of the year or not but it is a dandy read.

4 stars out of 5. A great book club selection.

Peace

Mark

(Kid Cann (middle figure) the man behind the killing of Walter W. Liggett and the inspiration for Muckraker: A Novel Noir)

If you are willing to take a slight risk, pre-order my novel, Muckraker, by clicking on the “Buy Stuff” tab above and selecting Muckraker in the items offered. You’ll be able to pre-order a copy (or copies) of the book and help get it edited and published! You have my promise the book will be in your hands by 10/1/2023 if I reach my goal of 200 pre-sold copies.

If you have any doubts about the quality of the story or the research or the writing, you will find a review of the book here:

https://www.thehistoricalfictioncompany.com/post/organized-crime-and-corrupt-politicians-an-editorial-review-of-the-pen-and-the-sword

Thanks for being a loyal Munger Reader!

Peace

Mark