Kari Hotakainen has won the Nordic Council's Literature Award for the novel Juoksuhaudantie (Löpgravsvägen)

War and the sanctity of the home

BY ANE FARSETHÅS

Kari Hotakainen
Juoksuhaudantie (Gully Path)
WSOY. FIN

Are men and women at war with each other? Based on the ritualistic public squabbles between neo-feminists and born-again masculinists as to which of them is most victimised, one might be forgiven for thinking they are.

With his new novel, Löpgravsvägen, which chronicles the progress of a house husband as he loses his grip on reality after being left in the lurch by his wife, Kari Hotakainen appears to be positioning himself right in the firing line.

Unknown solider

Hotakainen's basic ploy is to counterpoise equality of the sexes with Finland's war experiences. The protagonist Matti persistently compares his own efforts in the battle for women's lib - fought in the kitchen and children's rooms - with those of the unknown soldier, the heroes of the great Finnish wars. Which explains why Matti dubs himself a 'veteran of the home front'.

Hotakainen's Matti connects with a range of male characters in contemporary literature. Just as misanthropic as French writer Michel Houellebecq, but romantically in search of something like a Norwegian Fatso (in Lars Ramslie's outline). The novel follows this romantic misanthrope as he endeavours to win back his wife and create a dream home for her. At a pace that steadily picks up more and more speed, he goes from purveying 'erotic massage' to blackmailing estate agents and finally to taking a war veteran hostage who lives in what is called a frontline solder's house - a property bestowed on him as a token of gratitude for wartime heroism, a house Matti feels he deserves as much as any war hero.

110 per cent

Löpgravsvägen is a seductively easy read. Its no-nonsense approach and well-defined storylines may lead one to expect Matti's character to embody a sort of masculinity's avenger, 'Henpecked Underdog Goes Rambo'.

And there are nudges in that direction, given this model of self-effacing manhood who is married to a shrew. But war is never proclaimed. And while Matti employs ever more drastic means, they do not conflict with his almost militant equality project ('war of liberation'), his life's goal.

Nothing irritates him more than sportsmen - classic symbols of masculine prowess - blathering away about 'going for it 110 per cent' when they've never had heavier responsibilities than skidding around an ice rink chasing a small, black plastic puck. With a growing sense of suspicion Matti interprets the most minute incidents as signs of how men and women ignore the home front veterans and make their war invisible. In this it is more likely that he is avenging all home-workers rather than playing a real gender terrorist role.

Scandinavian misanthropy

People are more than gender, and the divorce storyline widens out to comprise a satire of life in Finland in general. There is a bitter-sweet description of home-buying mania - and associated debt victim mentality - as the modern Nordic citizen's only religion. 'The violent fluctuations in house prices, slack lending practices and the high interest rates across the country as a whole and Helsinki in particular have created a species of people that queue up at the entrances to the banks reciting their housing standards credo.'

As the quote suggests, the text is fast, funny and precise. But in satire there's room for gravitas too. There is little doubt that the force driving Matti is his longing for his family. Löpgravsvägen is not only a piece on Scandinavian misanthropy, it is also a sharp portrait of modern everyman's struggle to survive - as he faces the equal pressures of the sex and the housing markets.

Ane Farsethås is a literature critic

Translated by Chris Saunders