What were the obligations of the nominees and did performing them mean you had to put writing a book on hold?
There weren't that many events this year, because everything revolved around the prize gala. In previous years, we had to appear more in various Nordic countries and I thought it was great – I got to know many authors and literature fans. I guess this changes in time, as in the 1990s we didn't really have any nominees' obligations to perform.
The Finlandia prize actually took more time than the Nordic Council one. I was running back and forth for a year and a half. In Finland, there were many events and meetings that started half a year before Ice was published.
The publication of a book attracts a lot of media attention these days and I haven't had the chance to do anything new since then. There was a time when a writer finished a book and could immediately start writing the next one. Today, everyone thinks it's obvious that you have to spend at least a year on marketing.
Is this massive media attention on books a recent phenomenon?
It has developed fast in the last 20 years. We also had book readings and meetings when I published my first book at the age of 15, but today I have to do a lot work with the media. Sometimes I'm glad I'm a writer of the older generation.
What is more important to you – being nominated for the Nordic Council Literature Prize or winning the Finlandia prize?
The Finlandia prize has more practical value, because it had a significant impact on sales and this made the publishers happy. The impact literature prizes have on sales is more valuable than the prize money you get.
Financial impact aside, which literature prize has the biggest personal value for you?
I am a Swedish writer, so I would prefer the Nordic Council Literature Prize. Translation into Finnish is the only thing that keeps Finland-Swedish literature alive. I have sold many more books in Finnish than in Swedish. A writer expresses their art in their native language. Therefore, I am sad that the only way for my work to survive is via translations. The Nordic Council Literature Prize would be more attractive, as my native language would mean something there.
And the last question – what does being a Nordic writer mean to you? How does it distinguish you from other writers?
The main thing is that I have to write in a small language, but it does have its advantages. We are supported by governments who are aware of the fact that literature is important for the preservation of a language. We have great support systems for authors. Since our language groups are so small, it is impossible for writers to live on the money they earn from sales. It is important for a writer to have some free time when writing a book. Such time is difficult to find if you're in a full-time job. The thing Scandinavian writers have in common is that if you're any good at all, the state will support you and this is extremely important.
Anu Saluäär: You have to find the hints in Lundberg's sentences
You translated Ulla-Lena Lundberg's book Siberia. A Self-Portrait with Wings, which will soon be published in the Loomingu Raamatukogu series in Estonian. What was translating it like – the use of language, nuances?
Anu Saluäär: The book was a bit ornithological, which was translatable. There are officially approved lists of bird names and the official website of the Ornithological Society, where you can find the most unbelievable bird names. But in every other sense, she is not an author whose works are easy to translate.
Could you be more specific?
Reference works helped me with the bird names, but interpreting the parts that concerned Soviet life was more difficult. Ulla-Lena Lundberg stayed in the Soviet Union as a guest, but we lived there, so we see things differently. The translation had to be adapted to our personal vocabulary to make the text understandable to Estonians. For example, she says kalurikollektiiv (fishermen's collective), but we call it a kolhoos (kolkhoz – collective farm). Things like that.
She also expresses herself figuratively. You always have to study her sentences to understand where she's really left those hints. She uses a hidden style – she writes a simple sentence which hides a totally different thought. The translator really has to follow her world of thought to understand what she really wanted to say with a sentence. For example, there is this sentence: "So I don't know how to be a bird in Siberia". The idea is that she regards herself as a bird, a part of the animal world. And you have to translate it into Estonian in such a manner that the reader understands what she means.
Siberia. A Self-Portrait with Wings is a factual and philosophical book at the same time. The novel tells you what life in Siberia is like. On the other hand, it can be regarded as a book of thoughts, as it makes you think about the role of people in nature.
Ulla-Lena Lundberg and Anu Saluäär were interviewed by Stefani Liivak from Tallinn University. Lundberg met with readers at a discussion held at Harju County Library in Keila as a part of the Nordic Library Week 'Winter in the Nordic Countries'. Click here to read the summary and view photos of the meeting.