Author: Arto Paasilinna


Issue 4/1990 | Archives online, Fiction, Prose

An extract from the novel Jäniksen vuosi (‘The year of the hare’). Introduction by Mirja Bolgár

About mid-June Vatanen’s travels had taken him as far as the road to Nurmes. It was raining. He was cold.

He’d just hopped out of the coach from Kuopio, now on its way to Nurmes; so here he was, stuck on a rainy highway, getting soaked because of a snap decision. The village of Nilsiä was miles off.

The hare’s back leg had mended. Almost full-grown it was, now, that hare: good job it still fitted into the basket.

But, anyway, round the comer was a house: a bungalow with attic space – not a bad-­looking set-up. Might as well call, Vatanen decided, and see if there’s a night’s lodging going. A woman in a raincoat was scratching away at the garden, her hands black with soil. And old woman – and a picture of his wife flashed though his mind: there was something of his wife about her. More…