Tainaron: Mail from Another City 
asked by shawn on October 31, 2006 9:54 PM
TAINARON: Mail From Another City is the first American publication by the internationally acclaimed Finnish author, Leena Krohn. TAINARON consists of a series of letters sent beyond the sea from a city of insects. TAINARON is a book of changes. It speaks of metamorphoses that test all of nature from a flea to a star, from stone and grass to a human. The same irresistible force that gives us birth, also kills us. Nominated for the prestigious Finlandia prize, this is the perfect introduction to the work of a modern fabulist.
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I'm enchanted. The book is a series of letters, sent overseas from someone who now lives in Tainaron, a city of insects. The writing is lyrical and deep, metaphysical, philosophical, poetic. Part of the allure stems from being set in an insect world. The novel has illustrations as well, interspersed with the letters, that add another dimension to this magical work.
From the first letter:
"Much happens in the meadow; it is a stage for fervent activity and a theatre of
war. But everything serves just one purpose: immortality. The insects who are
pursuing their own interests there do not know that they are at the same time
fulfilling the flowers' hidden desires, any more than the flowers understand
that to the insects, whom they consider their slaves, they are life and
livelihood. Thus the selfishness of each individual works, in the meadow, for
the happiness of all."
From the thirteenth letter:
"The rapist panted in my pursuit, reducing the distance between us with
horrifying speed. Then I remembered that what I was seeing was a dream and that
I therefore had an opportunity: with all my strength, I forced my feet to leave
the ground, and as the murderer's filthy paw fumbled for my ankle, it slipped
beyond his grasp and past the highest branches.
My unbelief had saved me, but
the poor creature who believes that everything is true is the victim of his
dreams."
From the first letter:
"Much happens in the meadow; it is a stage for fervent activity and a theatre of
war. But everything serves just one purpose: immortality. The insects who are
pursuing their own interests there do not know that they are at the same time
fulfilling the flowers' hidden desires, any more than the flowers understand
that to the insects, whom they consider their slaves, they are life and
livelihood. Thus the selfishness of each individual works, in the meadow, for
the happiness of all."
From the thirteenth letter:
"The rapist panted in my pursuit, reducing the distance between us with
horrifying speed. Then I remembered that what I was seeing was a dream and that
I therefore had an opportunity: with all my strength, I forced my feet to leave
the ground, and as the murderer's filthy paw fumbled for my ankle, it slipped
beyond his grasp and past the highest branches.
My unbelief had saved me, but
the poor creature who believes that everything is true is the victim of his
dreams."
reviewed by jan1975 on November 1, 2006 7:44 AM