Aednan E-Book

Linnea Axelsson

• Herausgeber: Pushkin Press
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 124

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

A Guardian Top 5 Best Translated Fiction Book of the YearFinalist for the National Book Award for Translated Literature The award-winning, deeply moving novel-in-verse about the struggle and persistence of two Indigenous Sámi families over a century As borders are imposed in northernmost Scandinavia, a reindeer-herding family is ripped apart. A century later, a young Sámi woman leads a bold call for reparations. This majestic verse novel chronicles the fates of two Indigenous families over a hundred years, rescuing from oblivion their stories of loss and resistance. As one generation succeeds another, their voices interweave and form a spellbinding hymn to lands and traditions lost and reclaimed. Written in sparse, glittering verse that flows like a current, Ædnan is a profound and moving epic of Sámi life. ______________________ Winner of the August Prize for Fiction 'Full of sonorous power yet shot through with an undeniable intimacy... Extraordinary' Washington Post'Lyrical and ambitious' Guardian'Crystalline... The music of this book is old, and it is new, and it is old' Tommy Orange

Leseprobe

iii

ÆDNAN

AN EPIC

LINNEA AXELSSON

TRANSLATED FROM THE SWEDISH BY SASKIA VOGEL

PUSHKIN PRESS

1

Of their

peculiar light

We keep one

ray

To clarify

the Sight

To seek them

by —

—emily dickinson2

CONTENTS

TITLE PAGEEPIGRAPHIIIIIIIVVVIVIIVIIIIXXXIXIIXIIIXIVXVXVIÆdnoIIIIIIIVVVIVIIVIIIIXXXIXIIXIIIXIVXVXVIXVIIXVIIIXIXXXXXIXXIIXXIIIÆdniIIIIIIIVVVIVIIVIIIIXXXIXIIXIIIXIVXVXVIXVIIXVIIINOTEACKNOWLEDGMENTSCOPYRIGHT

3

I

Night camp at Lake Gobmejávri, near to where

Sweden, Finland, and Norway meet. Early spring 1913

(ber-joná)

The voice

the cup that memory

fills

I drink your hair

and soar

–

Through the fells

that birthed us and

twine us together

your body and mine

–

Fingers search

and the heart

howls

–

Here

where I wander4

–

A rangeland runs

from the forest snow to

the windswept shore

–

There my herd scrapes

and leads us

land to land

prying me from

your arms

–

Alone

among the lichen

5

II

Two births. Two sons.

(ber-joná)

A salty sea breeze

unfurled

your dark locks

We’d made it to our

summer grounds off the

north Norwegian coast

–

The cooling wind

ruffled

their strands of fur

Blew away

the midges

gave them no chance

to sting

–

The reindeer

lazily shook

its crown

–

6happy at home

in the land of ease

–

The island’s slope

a greening pillow

where the ocean soars

and the silver brooch

from the market square

was fixed to your shawl

–

In the calves’ legs

the future twitched

uncertainly

in one direction

and in the other

–

Then the ocean depths

silently resettled

themselves:

painstakingly calm

and sly

–

On the move

to our winter grounds

across glowing

autumn pastures7

you would birth

our sons

–

Two births

two sons

–

Aslat with his wreath of hair

black as soot

thick as a reindeer’s coat

–

Honed fingers

that felt

the family mark

cut into the reindeer’s ear

–

But that Nila

All he sensed

were the waves

–

Bluish black murky brown

Nila’s eyes remained:

A newborn’s veiled

deep listening gaze

–

8Around that soul

a face was held

–

Like a bowl

that never seemed

burdened by

or even aware of

its contents

–

Large pieces

were carved

from our herd’s

life cycle

Nila’s weakness

gnawed me

down to the marrow

–

Clawing feelings

took me

as their home:

Aversion

conceit

shame

–

Ristin

you said the boy belonged

to a more sensitive kind9

which had but assumed

human traits

And I saw something cunning

reveal itself

–

In his young mouth’s

mysterious greetings

his irritating attempts

to reach out

–

No

–

You said his face

made it known that

much of him remained

in the oblivion

from which we all come

–

The ocean

quite simply

immeasurable

–

I gave my verdict:

10You can’t take

a weakling like that

into the fells

–

Someone like that is left

in our lodgings

or boards with the Swede

on his farms

–

Quarrel’s sneer

was spread across

our faces

–

People stood back

silence lay in our hut

–

But that was before

Later you went around

with Nila roped to you

at the waist

–

Not one word would

pass the

weakling’s lips11

–

Too strong was

this mark

from behind

the water’s veil

where mankind

–

spins its

origins

–

A tail fin or

a scut

that should have fallen off

–

He ought to have

swum out and returned

is what I said back then

–

Never will he

be of use

in the reindeer forest12

13

III

Through the Rostočearru mountain pass. Spring 1913

(ber-joná)

The expanses

their boundlessness

the reindeer herder cairns

–

Backs that burned

and feet

like bundles

–

Beating

our canes

to frighten

off the wolverine

–

On a sunny spring hill

rested our

pregnant does

–14

We heard

heartbeats in the ground

Faint

beneath the inherited

migration paths

–

our son Aslat and I

–

Aslat would follow

the future’s ground

–

It had not yet been

born into the world:

It would come

from the lives of our does

–

The wind had a long talk

with the tent’s tarp

–

We look up

through the smoke hole

see the clouds

–

gliding by15

–

A wide-awake doe

shakes her coat

until it whirls

Another stretches

her joints

–

They’re grazing

So they will

stay calm for at least

another hour

–

Once they’ve woken up

properly

they’ll keep

heading west

–

Into the mountains

to the calving grounds

–

Teeth mashing

milling their feed

The calves in wetness

treading16

the heat

of the as-yet unborn

–

Our dark-headed son’s

landscape

–

Ski stroke by ski stroke

song after song

we spread out the

landscape of our kin

in his body

–

Singing forth

the world around us

–

We sang the mountain

that looked like

an old woman

–

The hiding places

and fear

we sang

when the Swede

had gone to war

–

17Against our

well-worn drum

–

The sky brightened

And we sang

father’s father

–

sun

in hand

–

The hot

southern cliffs where

the spring bears

had their daytime dens

were sung forth

–

The meltwater

rippling

by the windbreak

–

Our son’s light

singing voice18

in which our kin’s and

the land’s memories

wished to fasten

–

Glided away

like the clouds toward you

Ristin

–

Trailing far behind

With the other families

headed for our spring camp

–

And the weak

boy

who had

to travel with you

and not us

–

His gaze like

the sea

which I had taught

myself to love

–

19A cleansing bath

that gaze of his

–

We sang the work

and the reindeer

who led our family

apart

–

The reindeer who

taught us to use

the tundra

–

The sun stood silent

above steep cliffs

–

Quickly

Aslat and I

erected a small cairn

as a greeting

to those

behind us

–

Then all we had to do

was keep following

the reindeer colors20

The wandering

herd:

like ocean waves

–

Brownish-gray back coat

white and downy

bluish white close

to the skin

–

black-tipped

–

The does streamed

gently up

the slope

–

The fact of breathing

ongoing

billows of reindeer colors

–

To be without

the reindeer’s gaze

was impossible

–

21The herd’s body

became our bodies

our family

–

Only in the flow of work

was my longing absent

–

Then I only saw

antlers

possibilities

in the group

order

–

The dogs gave

bark and held

the herd together

–

The does’ bells

clanged

against the scarp

They were used to

walking here and the work

was not hard

–

22They were always drawn

westward

to give birth

in their special valley

–

And the sun left

our son’s

thick crown

I watched it

shrivel like

dead twigs

–

Someone had to

climb up the cliff

to see if

we could take

our usual route

–

And his foot

sprang up

–

He slipped

and fell

from the rock

–

23The ocean rises

the ocean gathers

Viscous waves

thick as marrow

–

Red trails of light

moved

before my eyes

until all went

dark and

veiled

–

His legs

black out

they drown

fading

–

The world was exchanged

–

And he came

up changed

–

On that cliff

Aslat’s leg was crushed24

25

IV

Meanwhile at Gobmejávri

(ristin)

That spring

my longing tasted

of rainwater

–

On a wing

we had ridden

made of the heat

of skin

and voice

–

On the reindeer’s

shaggy branches

we were caught

–

There we were left hanging

driving in the wind

while the tundra of work

settled calmly

between us26

–

The herd was what

nourished my blood

it fashioned me

with its world

–

The source

of my life’s pattern

–

A rhythm of tasks

that were flayed and

cracked out of

the reindeer

–

Removing hair from hide

sewing the hide

making use of the meat

–

Carrying along

this animal-body

in remade parts:

Nourishment garments

products tools

–

27In the evening

the stars flocked

–

They appeared and

mirrored themselves in the embers

in the middle of the tent

–

I snapped a

stick and fed

the flame

Brushed a piece

of straw off our

younger boy’s arm

–

Then Nila’s face

churned around its core

–

He shook

his head

eyes fixed tossing

his hair

–

He who could

also be so careful

and gentle28

–

When he held

the sugar crate

the bentwood box

–

My friend beside me

sat spinning

with her daughters

–

Between their teeth

they pulled tendons

from the reindeers’ legs

and twined them

into thread against their cheeks

–

The embers changed color

Ber-Joná they spun you

who were with the calving

does

–

They spun the sun above

the calving grounds

soothing

to the steaming new

bodies29

–

Well-developed

fully evolved

calves

woven through

with heartbeats

–

A fresh continuance

of our life

–

As if of their own accord

Nila’s fingers scratched

my back

while my friend

and I told

her girls:

–

Let the fire

keep you company

Remember that the people

you long for at work

far away

are looking up

–

at the same stars30

–

Their tired eyes

are coming to rest

on the same fading embers

–

Our dark-haired

son’s crown

–

When Aslat was born

I’d never seen

as dark

–

and thick a wreath of hair

as Aslat’s

31

V

The accident site

(ber-joná)

And Aslat

opened his eyes

and he screamed

out loud

and sobbed

–

I didn’t know why

but I had

dragged him a ways

up the rock

–

And twilight

filled the valley

–

Darkness trickled

down the slopes

toward the plains

where the men

were running32

in their soft

leather shoes

–

The wet snow

began to freeze

–

Someone said

that the unrest would cause

the does to panic

–

So they needed to be

set in motion

up the other

slope

–

My brother had been

standing on his own

awhile

–

I felt myself

tear up

When he came over

to talk to me:

–33

We have to help

Aslat into

the food sled

–

We’ll have to

transport him

that way34

35

VI

The women break camp

(ristin)

Gingerly

I bound up

my memories

–

Treacherous company

coming and going

as they pleased

–

They rose up

and knocked me over

–

The snow crust gleamed

and I put

my pack on

–

Our weak boy

waited calmly36

on his own skis

–

He too picked up

the backpack

of his heart

took care

when stacking

the wood

–

Perhaps

he did

–

The squeeze of my pack

reminded me of

when our boys

were small

–

We were still migrating

all together back then

hiking

in heavy rain

–

I hold the weakling

by the hand37

For long stretches

Nila walks on his own

–

like his brother Aslat does

–

The water seeps

into Nila’s clothes

which darken

and we battle

the wind to

raise our tent

–

Then we lie down

and wait out

the rain

–

The clothes are

hung to dry

–

And I wipe out

the coffee cups

with a rag

place them in

the large kisa

–

38I touch the bag of flour

the silver brooch

–

One evening

Ber-Joná takes his time

waking up

The sun had been warming

the whole day through

–

And he is lying still

Letting his thoughts

grow clear

–

Aslat sits and

listens to the pack reindeer

grazing freely

near our camp

–

One is so tame

it sneaks up

to the tent

it nudges

the tarp

–

39and Ber-Joná

mutters at it

Then he asks me

to mimic a grouse

–

Does this memory

gnaw at him too

–

Once

I tied Aslat

to a rock

–

I was working my way through

the cloudberry mire

–

I had such a heavy load

I took off my

bottoms

knotted my pant legs

and filled them with berries

–

The shawl and the smallest kerchief

that I could knot

the backpack40

Full of berries

–

A black pool rose

through the moss

and the water was cold

pleasant on my neck

–

The golden eagle

dove darkly

from the sky

its eye yellow

and black

–

In that yellow eye

the world was

reflected differently

–

It reached out its claws

and sailed toward Aslat

I dropped the berries

and ran screaming

arms raised

–

41Watched the heavy

bird of prey rise up and off

–

Everything was as usual

but this cast a shadow

–

And Nila he

–

was born dingy white

–

Face like a rag

this cast a shadow

–

My friend had placed

that slight figure

on my chest

–

She stretched out

his tiny limbs

and filled his palms

with her thumbs

But he would not grab hold42

–

He lay still

arms outstretched

–

I saw his tender

heart flicker

under the skin

I saw the shadows

and that fine

rib cage

–

All the shadows

grabbing at

his chest

in an indifferent game

–

All those yielding

soft parts I saw

all that gave

way in him

–

All that43

as soon as

he’d arrived

betrayed him

–

I said:

Take him out

into the air

we must rouse

his ire

–

The cold usually riles

them up

–

So my friend lifted

Nila out of the sugar crate

–

His fragile head

just drooped

Legs dangling slack

and head lolling

in her arms

when she stumbled

in the snow

–

44Then I lay there a long while

looking at him

–

The waves sank

and surged again

that broad forehead

those wide-set eyes

–

My own features

rising rising

and Mama’s features

–

By cheekbone

and eyebrow

–

I could sense that I was smiling

–

Perhaps I had

always been searching for

traces of Mama

outside of myself45