Appendix

During my last years of study I was often forced into interdisiplinary affairs with humanists. At an elite summer academy on the Agean Sea I was required, along with other victims of interdisiplinary Eutopia, to answer the big questions concerning globalisierung. Within spitting distance of the sea, I was expected to listen to respresentitives of intercultural communications talking about stereotypes. Apparently, the purpose of stereotypes is to reduce the complexity of a situation. They allow us to establish a sense of cognitive orientation within the lean, mean environment and ''protect us from a negative self-image, guilt complexes, inner conflicts and self-criticism, by discriminating against that which is different''. It is thus a mean instrument of the human psyche, which allows this poor mammal with an overgrown brain, standing on the brink of a nervous breakdown in the face of the constant requirement to weigh up the pros and cons, to protect itself. Unfortunately, amongst the less blessed of us, this often leads to the development of pronounced xenophobia.

The majority of people frequently limit themselves to 'harmless' stereotypes: Americans are fat and greedy, Brits are arrogant and tend towards alcoholism, Poles are thieves etc. The further displaced a country is from one's georaphical and cultural norms, the greater the tendency to form geographical/cultural conglomerates: The Arabs, the Africans or the Latinos for example. As a Lithuanian, I would be termed 'Homo Postsovieticus' in Germany, from somewhere in the Baltics. I would thus tend to be attributed the marks of an east european stereotype, which are generally of a negative persuasion. In such a situation, one must take it upon oneself to do what one can to better educate ones contempories: Tell tales of the grandeur of Lithuania in the previous centuries, of the beauty and uniqueness of the lake strewn countryside etc. etc. A bloody big effort, basically.

The Finns have got it easier. A blond race from the western hemisphere, which has somehow retained an element of something exotic. Besides, the've got their saunas, Nokia, reindeer and formula one racing drivers. Admittedly, the threatening wealding of over-dimensional plaster-of-paris axes and zombie costumes of the Finnish hard metal band Lordi were considered somewhat offensive by the primarily conservative viewers of the Eurovision Song Contest, but no permanent damage to the Finnish image seams to have been done. Quite the contrary; it has received a bit of a boost. In the matter of music, Finnland is a small heavyweight, particularly outside of the mainstream with bands like Eläkeläiset or Leningrad Cowboys. At the other end of the musical spectrum, the Finnish electronic music movement is considered to be one of the most innovative in the world. 

At the beginning of February, cultureclubbing brought a respresentative of the Finnish music scene from Helsinki to Munich. Eero Johannes and DJ Wiljam Basso, and two Finnish authors came to the Literaturhaus to give us a taste of the Finnish music and literature scenes. Boy-faced Eero was up first to play a selection of his tunes to a Literaturhaus full of literature fans. His music was accompanied by a video installation and several bizarre dance interludes of his own compostion. Neither the neon diamonds and flashing trees that raced across the screen, or Eero's own suggestion that it might theoretically be possible to dance had great effect - they were rather interpreted as Finnish humour.

Elina Hirvonen and Tuomas Kyrö were then up to begin the liturature round. Elina Hirvonen read excerts from her debut novel 'Remember'. She read from the original, Finnish version, to bring her audience closer to the sound of the language. The actress Alexandra Helmig read from the translated, German version of the book 'Erinnere dich'. Hirvonen uses flashbacks to tell the childhood story of a young woman whose brother suffers from psycosis. The woman's present life is also embedded in the history surrounding the terrorist attacks on September the 11th, although this fact alone is not responsible for the book having already been published in ten different countries. Elina Hirvonens direct but stylish way with words is a reflection of the woman herself. She is a Finnish cosmopolitan - her husband is American and they lived for many years in Zambia. Whilst she is reading, or listening to the reading from the translated edition, she occasionally runs her hand gently across her stomach. The baby is due in summer. It isn't difficult for us to find a common topic of conversation. After the reading we chat about the up-and-coming birth, the pros and cons of laughing gas and epidurals - the usual women's stuff. Good luck Elina!

Tuomas Kyrö is already a very well known author in Finnland. His biography describes him as 'the Finnish cult author'. When confronted with this quote, he modestly proclaims to be no super-writer; just one who's doing his best. And apparently, he can't do anything other than write. If not an authour, he would probably be a skateboarder, but not a very good one. I ask him what one needs to have or to be to write a good novel. ''Diligence and a lot of life experience'', he answers after a moment's thought. His behavior as a youth in Helsinki boardered on criminal and put him in many problematic and even critical situations. Had he not had to face and master these situations, he might not have been able to invent the inner-life of the characters in his books. Tuomas read from his current book '700 Grams'. It is his first sports-novel, in which he portrays Finnlands contempory society from the point of view of a long lumper. After the reading, moderators Meike Frese and Maximilian Murmann put questions to the author. In his answers, Tuomas vilified the Munich temperatures and joked that ''he counldn't write a bad book''. He also said that Brecht and Goethe had made no great impression upon him; modern talking had been his teacher.

After the readings the parade of listeners to Finnish exports marched on though old-town Munich, lead by the blue cross of the Finnish flag. After a quick stop by the omnipresent Safety Conference police commando, we arrived at the Rote Sonne - our host for the rest of the evening. Here, DJ Wiljam Basso from Helsinki was supposed to take over the musical reigns from Eero Johannes, but with a total of seven projection screens, there was no stopping the latter either. Together, the two DJs impressed their audience with electronic baselines and wild visuals. Elina Hirvonen rocked her unborn child to the beat and Tuomas considered how he might be able to delay his return flight: After an epic description of local 'sausage-culture' from Marion Bösker, he thought he might want to stay and give himself chance to sample the delights of Weißwurst (white sausages) from Metzger Bauch (Bauch the buthcher). We danced, partied and laughed until the sun started thinking about getting up again.

Did the evening achieve a glimpse of the Finnish soul? Maybe, maybe not. A predudice can certainly be laid to rest, though: The men from the north are not uncommunicative or withdrawn and they don't need vodka to open up their hearts. Genuine interest is more than enough. Just like it is for all of us. It is easy to categorise, but to experience is exciting.

Darius Černiauskas