Linnéa Axelsson

“But the era/ of progress/ and the world's/ conscience/ does not contain/ the full history of their land”

Aednan by Linnea Axelssonn (translated by Saskia Vogel) is a brilliantly penned novel-in-verse that shall definitely go on my list of favorite reads this year. To be honest, I was hesitant to pick this one up as I’ve never been completely comfortable with the format, but I have to say that reading Aednan (which means the land, the earth and my mother in Northern Sámi) is an experience that will stay with me.

A story about family, community, displacement and forced migration, intergenerational trauma and the struggle to preserve and protect one's cultural identity, this saga is shared through several voices, spanning over a century and tells the story of the nomadic Sámi community through the eyes of the members of two families.

“We were to be driven/from the forest fells/lakes//migration paths and songs/had to be stifled/stricken from memory”

The Sámi people originally inhabited an area where the borders of Norway, Sweden, and Finland met. This is where the story opens in 1913, where we meet Ber-Jona and his wife Ristin and their sons, Aslat and Nile. With the political changes in the region, border policies and governmental legislations restricting the movement of the reindeer herding Sámi community’s migration routes between their summer destination in Norway and their winter camps in Sweden. As the narrative progresses, in the wake of a family tragedy, they are forcibly displaced from their summer homes in Norway, leaving behind much more than just their homeland. Over the years, after being uprooted repeatedly, they ultimately settle in Norrbotten County in Sweden, forced to assimilate into a culture and land far removed from their own. The story continues with Lise in the 1970s – also a descendent of the reindeer herding Sámi community, one of a generation of Sámi who were forced to attend the Nomad Schools where they were taught to associate with Swedish culture and language and are gradually stripped of their indigenous identity.

“But of our own/ history not a word/ was written// as if our/ parents and we/ had never existed// had never shaped/ anything”

Unwilling to share her childhood experiences with her inquisitive daughter Sandra, who grows up to be an activist, Lise keeps her trauma to herself. We follow Sandra as an adult, her desire to connect with her roots, her activism and resilience and her desire to preserve and protect her heritage. The author references the legal battle between the Girjas Sami Village and the Swedish government in this context and how modern history needs to enlighten the present generation of all that has never been written about or has been deliberately erased from its pages.

“Our land// of course is one/ they've never/even seen//Do they even know/ how we have been/ removed between/ four nations”

Written in simple yet elegant prose, Aednan is a beautifully penned novel-in-verse. Incredibly moving and impactful, the sparse yet evocative prose and the vivid imagery render this novel an absorbing read. The author explores the community’s connection to nature and how the trauma of their displacement from not only their land but also their way of life impacts the generations that follow when forced into occupations that gradually drain their souls. It is easy to recognize the similarities in the treatment meted out to Indigenous communities throughout the world with the stories of the characters in this novel. Ristin, Lise and Sandra are women from different generations – but the legacy of grief and displacement they carry finds its way into their personal relationships, their sense of self-worth and their respective worldviews. We also hear from several characters connected to these three women including the voice of a young boy whose soul follows his family as they migrate as he lies in a grave across the border as well as Per, Lise’s son whose life and struggles are in deep contrast to that of his sister. I will admit that the non-linear nature of the narrative in the latter half of the novel took a moment to get accustomed to, but the author captures the sense of each era and each voice skillfully, weaving the narrative voices through the generations into a coherent soulful saga. This was my first time reading about the Indigenous Sámi community and their history and I’ve spent hours reading up on the historical events mentioned in this novel.

Heartbreaking yet powerful and memorable, this book left me with a heavy heart.

“Isn't it about time/ that their children/ also learn to hear/the voices/ of our shared/ history”

Many thanks to Knopf for the gifted copy. All opinions expressed in this review are my own.… (plus d'informations)