Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen

Rabbit Back is a town haunted by strange occurrences. Not the least of these is the mould or bacteria which attacks the books in the local library causing stories to change. This is also the home of Laura White, beloved children’s author and founder of The Rabbit Back Literature Society, a group whom she has mentored since their childhoods and who are now all well-known authors in their own right.

The Society has always had nine members until now. Although Ella has only authored a short show more story, she has been invited by Laura White to join. But on the night of her induction into the group, White vanishes from the party. Then Ella learns about The Game in which members challenge each other to answer very personal questions about themselves and The Group. Soon, Ella begins to use The Game to uncover the story behind White’s disappearance as well as the truth about a brilliant child, the original tenth member who the public has never heard of and who died under mysterious circumstances.

To say that The Rabbit Back Literature Society by Finnish author Pasi Ilmari Jaaskelainen is an odd story would be a gross understatement. I have read reviews comparing this book to David Lynch’s Twin Peaks and, to be honest, I wish I’d thought of that on my own because it is definitely an apt comparison. Strange things happen; they may or may not be resolved; and they may or may not disappear from the tale. There is the question of the books; the strange something that may be lurking in a back garden that attracts all of the town’s dogs; the weird snowstorm in White’s house as well as her disappearance; and, of course, the original tenth member. This is not a murder mystery, a horror tale, or even a simple fantasy. The characters never seem horrified, shocked, or even surprised by all of these strange occurrences. Nothing is what it seems here… or maybe it is – there are no easy answers, no simple solutions or, in some cases, no solutions at all. The reader may be left scratching their head at the end wondering what the hell just happened and spend a great deal of time afterwards trying to piece together what it all means.

All of this is not to say that The Rabbit Back Literature Society is not worth the read – it definitely is and I would recommend it highly to those who don’t mind not being handed all the answers or not having everything wrapped up in a bright shiny bow at the end. But, if you do decide to read it, don’t be surprised if, at the end, you have a sudden craving for cherry pie or whatever the Finnish equivalent might be. show less

A few years back I had read Jääskeläinen’s [b:The Rabbit Back Literature Society|18367594|The Rabbit Back Literature Society|Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1377234365s/18367594.jpg|3380442]. That novel had been compared to “Twin Peaks meeting the Brothers Grimm” and was a dark and cryptic work which hovered rather awkwardly between outright supernatural fiction and magical realism. I had found this ‘ambivalence’ ultimately disappointing, but the show more novel was intriguing enough to make me want to sample the author’s latest offering, recently translated into English by Lola Rogers.

In its initial chapters, this novel seemed quite different from its predecessor, apart from its small-town setting and “bookish” background. Indeed, it starts off as a gentle, if quirky, tale of mid-life romance. Olli Suominen, the head of a publishing company based in Jyväskylä, is going through a crisis. Book sales are not what they used to be and, as far as family-life is concerned, he seems to be growing distant from his wife and young son. Through Facebook, he gets in touch with Greta Kara, an old flame who has since become the bestselling author of an influential self-help guide to “living a cinematic life”. He somehow convinces her to issue her next book – a ‘magical’ travelogue about Jyväskylä – through his publishing house. This promises to boost Olli’s business, and amorous, prospects.

But Olli’s Facebook exchanges with Greta also rekindle memories of another group of childhood acquaintances – the three Blomroos siblings and their cousin Karri. Together with Timi, Olli’s dog, they formed a Finnish equivalent of the Famous Five. In true Enid Blyton fashion, they spent their summer holidays together, shared long, glorious, sunny days on riverside picnics and solved mysteries along the way. Typically, they also explored secret passages. And here things start to get weird, because unlike the relatively workaday secret passages in Blyton’s novels, the Toulura tunnels seem to warp reality and cause time to go completely off-kilter. Unsurprisingly, Olli’s memories of the secret passages are vague and confused, but we eventually learn that they were the theatre for shocking happenings experienced by Greta and the Tourula Five.

Whether you will enjoy the novel from this point forward will depend on how crazy you like your fiction to be. In my case, I generally prefer novels which follow an internal logic, however strange their premise. And to be honest, it was sometimes difficult to understand where this book was going . But it still hooked me to the last chapter. Or chapters, given that the novel rather puzzlingly presents us with an alternative ending – probably a nod to “alternate movie endings” which are sometimes available on certain movie DVDs.

So, how should we interpret Secret Passages? Should we take it at face value as a work of supernatural fiction? Or is this actually realist fiction, using elements of fantasy to give us a glimpse of the workings of Olli’s mind? Is the book a satire on modern life which, thanks to social media, seems to be all about living a “cinematic life” worth sharing with the world at large? Or is this an adult parody of Enid Blyton mysteries, particularly the underlying gender politics simmering below their surface? Perhaps it’s all of this, but it makes for a wild and crazy ride. show less

Inventive, unnerving, and delightful, with occasional forays into the Psychologically Quite Nasty. Either heavily influenced by the Moomintroll books, or (more likely) both were influenced by Finnish/Scandinavian cultural and mythological heritage. Goes past magical realism but stops short of surrealism by just a hair.
Like a fairy tale detective story where the last few pages, when the detective explains it all, are missing. A book that is satisfying on its own (IMO) but practically show more *requires* you to get someone else to read it so you can animatedly discuss your theories on what exactly was going on with this character or that. Also props to the author for writing an absolutely believable female protagonist. show less

A few years back I had read Jääskeläinen’s [b:The Rabbit Back Literature Society|18367594|The Rabbit Back Literature Society|Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1377234365s/18367594.jpg|3380442]. That novel had been compared to “Twin Peaks meeting the Brothers Grimm” and was a dark and cryptic work which hovered rather awkwardly between outright supernatural fiction and magical realism. I had found this ‘ambivalence’ ultimately disappointing, but the show more novel was intriguing enough to make me want to sample the author’s latest offering, recently translated into English by Lola Rogers.

In its initial chapters, this novel seemed quite different from its predecessor, apart from its small-town setting and “bookish” background. Indeed, it starts off as a gentle, if quirky, tale of mid-life romance. Olli Suominen, the head of a publishing company based in Jyväskylä, is going through a crisis. Book sales are not what they used to be and, as far as family-life is concerned, he seems to be growing distant from his wife and young son. Through Facebook, he gets in touch with Greta Kara, an old flame who has since become the bestselling author of an influential self-help guide to “living a cinematic life”. He somehow convinces her to issue her next book – a ‘magical’ travelogue about Jyväskylä – through his publishing house. This promises to boost Olli’s business, and amorous, prospects.

But Olli’s Facebook exchanges with Greta also rekindle memories of another group of childhood acquaintances – the three Blomroos siblings and their cousin Karri. Together with Timi, Olli’s dog, they formed a Finnish equivalent of the Famous Five. In true Enid Blyton fashion, they spent their summer holidays together, shared long, glorious, sunny days on riverside picnics and solved mysteries along the way. Typically, they also explored secret passages. And here things start to get weird, because unlike the relatively workaday secret passages in Blyton’s novels, the Toulura tunnels seem to warp reality and cause time to go completely off-kilter. Unsurprisingly, Olli’s memories of the secret passages are vague and confused, but we eventually learn that they were the theatre for shocking happenings experienced by Greta and the Tourula Five.

Whether you will enjoy the novel from this point forward will depend on how crazy you like your fiction to be. In my case, I generally prefer novels which follow an internal logic, however strange their premise. And to be honest, it was sometimes difficult to understand where this book was going . But it still hooked me to the last chapter. Or chapters, given that the novel rather puzzlingly presents us with an alternative ending – probably a nod to “alternate movie endings” which are sometimes available on certain movie DVDs.

So, how should we interpret Secret Passages? Should we take it at face value as a work of supernatural fiction? Or is this actually realist fiction, using elements of fantasy to give us a glimpse of the workings of Olli’s mind? Is the book a satire on modern life which, thanks to social media, seems to be all about living a “cinematic life” worth sharing with the world at large? Or is this an adult parody of Enid Blyton mysteries, particularly the underlying gender politics simmering below their surface? Perhaps it’s all of this, but it makes for a wild and crazy ride. show less