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The popularity of these songs attests to the singers’ belief in their efficacy, although songs like Kanteletar tune “Irresistible” suggest that additional rituals may have accompanied the singing: “nature will bring you all right, blood will draw you to my side. Your own blood will take over—warm, it will make advances.” In their 2006 CD, Miero [Outcast], Värttinä’s song “Lumotar” [The Enchantress] they weave a similar incantation to stir a man’s passion. It invokes the image of the cauldron with its opening, “I’m going to cook a man’s mind, warm it up with fire.” It is no surprise, perhaps, that the cooking fire and its pot have traditionally become the site of witchcraft with its repetitive stirring motions and the alchemy of cooking. The sympathetic magic of the fire representing passion is simple but profound. Or as Mari Kaasinen’s lyrics put it, “Burn, mind of man! Let me set fire to your heart, so that you choose my body, and worship me forever.” New lyrics, yet completely in keeping with the traditional mode.
Assuming the charm has worked, the next step, of course, is marriage; in Karelia that’s a complicated procedure lasting days, as we see with the wedding of Louhi’s daughter in Runo 21 of The Kalevala. The song I began with is a wedding tune from the traditional ritual, “Kylä vuotti uutta kuuta” [the village waited for the new moon]. It is a welcoming song for the new bride, sung to her traditionally by her groom’s sister as the bridal party arrives at the newlyweds’ home. The song uses hunting motifs to describe the marriage, referring to the bride as the “sorsa” or wild duck caught by an eagle. This somewhat predatory ambience is a motif repeated in many of the songs of The Kanteletar, particularly in the stories like “Palakainen,” a murder ballad. There are many happier motifs in the songs, too, like those celebrating the moment when the bride leaves home full of hope, praising the beauty of the new bride and those instructing the groom on how to treat his new partner, including one (1:134) that warns the groom to “advise your maiden in bed, teach her behind the door” and by using gentle means unless she fails to live up to your standards, then “fetch a lash from the thicket.” Ever conscious of gossip (another lurking danger), the song also counsels that you use these stronger means behind your own door so that the sounds do not carry to the village folk, and that you don’t leave visible signs of your impatience because “the village ploughmen would see…the village magpies would slang.” This advice is echoed in Runo 24 of The Kalevala but it is paired with a runo with instructions for the bride, too.
While the wedding may be a happy event for the whole village, there is little time to enjoy life once the long ritual is complete. If we follow the narrative of The Kanteletar songs, the giddy anticipation of marriage leads to the harsh reality of married life. For the wife there should be no more longing, but there are many dangers that must be dealt with in daily life. Many of the women’s songs in The Kanteletar deal with protective lullabies or the complaints of daughters-in-law in close quarters with their new family. But sometimes laments are not enough—it is time for the curses. Curses can be a method of healing, as Värttinä’s “Viikon Vaivanen” shows:
Flee from me, Disease. You came to us with the wind. Now I’ll banish you to the bottom of the sea. If you don’t obey, I’ll cast you out to the home of Ukko Karhu and to the pen of Akka Karhu. They will chew up your bones.
The personification of the illness allows the singer to address it as she would an unwelcome guest, with threats and punishments, invoking the power of the gods. The traditional Karelian tune provides a mesmerizing rhythmic tune to capture the disease and cast it out.
