The west coast of Finland is reminiscent of the coasts of Louisiana and Mississippi. Driving through pine forests in a flat landscape punctuated by rivers, streams and bays made me feel at home. The humidity near the Gulf of Bothnia produces clouds not unlike those near the Gulf of Mexico, despite obvious differences between subarctic and subtropical environments.
Comparing the differences and similarities between home and far-flung destinations provides profound insights. I never feel more in the South – as a Mississippian and especially as a Jackson native – than when I’m on tour. What William Faulkner described as “my own little postage stamp of native soil” is the essence of one’s own perspective: it shapes first impressions and has the final say in judging the highs and lows elsewhere.
When I thought about the “there there” – Gertrude Stein’s criticism of her hometown of Oakland, California, was “there is no there there” – I immediately understood the tautology between Arctic Sweden and Mississippi. You can physically move. But the locals are so strong that you only travel through space and time: the ties that bind you together shape you for life and provide an identity that never breaks.
Elderly relatives, distant relatives and in-laws – and longtime family friends – have a birthright as Mississippians: They get along right away, have a way of life that is foreign even to natives from neighboring states Alabama and Louisiana, and are unparalleled among people who hail from, say, Birmingham and Mobile or Lake Charles and Monroe.
I try to demonstrate the generosity of spirit that the Southern ladies I populated in my childhood so convincingly embodied, and strive to say a kind word to everyone and leave them laughing (assuming there are people who would try the patience of people who can bear fools; whose provocations could turn Job into an axe murderer). When I met people in the Arctic, I asked about their life stories – to find out what makes someone interesting and unique.
Some Swedish Laplanders were Finns who moved across the border as adults. Others I spoke to grew up there and now live in Finland. More typically, they were natives from the north who sought opportunities in more densely populated, wealthier parts of southern Sweden.
In today’s world, there are winners and losers, and these are what are driving people to leave dying communities and move to communities of endless opportunity – realities best described in Billy Joel’s “Allentown” (1982) and Randy Newman’s “Baltimore” (1977), both songs released over 40 years ago but arguably more relevant than when they were recorded.
They often met people who lived elsewhere and had a desire to reconnect with the people, landscapes and places that existed deep within their psyche.
The current population of Swedish Lapland is less than forty percent of its historic peak. The area does not appear impoverished, as is often the case in similar cases in the United States: the beauty of the natural environment is so outstanding that one does not remember a built environment that has seen better days – a priority that Mississippi municipalities and counties must pursue: our stunning subtropical landscape should not be overshadowed by misery when what is remembered can be worse than poverty and neglect.
The trip taught us that cultures that shape people for life provide economic development opportunities. People would leave and never look back if it weren’t for something meaningful. Mississippians need to think about what keeps us grounded, and think about the possibilities for a successful, rewarding future that come from our music, literature, and zest for life – our disposition to embrace life with enthusiasm.
What is needed is not the ephemeral—the dust in the wind—that seems to preoccupy the daily newspaper. Our music, literature and art will remain relevant long after SEC football, NASCAR and the food franchises of the 21st century are long forgotten.
Resisting the superficiality and chatter of America today is contrary to the spirit of the times, but Mississippians must do so if we are to emerge from the current mess and enjoy a prosperous future.
Jay Wiener is a Northsider
