Kalevipoja (Kalevipoeg)

Official version: Title and giant eponymous hero of Kreutzwald’s epic poem, said by many to trigger the sense of (Romantic) nationalism in Estonia, by others vice versa. To avoid rehashing a tale a million times retold, we look at the story from another angle. Other entries (Hiiela, Kalevala, Saarepiiga...) suggest that the Kalevipoeg story dates back a very long time. Felix Oinas (1911-2004), a specialist in Estonian folklore, discusses various Kalevipoeg stories bearing striking resemblances to those about Tsar Dukljan or Dukljanin (better known as Diocletian) in Serbian mythology (see refs). Castrén (1813-1853), first translator of the Kalevala (V.1, 1835) believed that the enmity between the Southerners and Northerners was sung long before the Finns had left their Asiatic birth-place. Thomas Sefton puts forward some interesting arguments that the Kalev stories may have shared a common parent with the Oedipus, Beowulf and Sigurð legends (see refs), the foundations dating back some 4-5000 years, remembering that we have only a tiny filtrate of primitive tales to work from. Firstly, although Kalev is sometimes confused with Kalevipoeg; Kalevala’s Kullervo is also known as Kalevanpoika and seems to have been the son (or grandson?) of Kalervo, so the two generations issue is probably correct. The Kullervo cycle of the Kalevala is probably of old Estonian origin. Further south we have Oedipus, generally assumed to be named for his swollen feet due to their being fettered before his exposure on a hill to die. Thanks to various shepherds, stock characters in the saved infant of future glory legends (see also JC), not only does he survive but is also adopted by a king. Given the Ancient Greek repugnance for ugliness or deformity – cause enough in itself for infanticide – it is quasi impossible that a deformed baby would end up adopted in the first place, let alone by a king. Further, his fettering is perhaps the only occurrence of it ever happening, and the entire foot issue seems to be a Chinese whisper of another foot/leg-related issue. Another interpretation of his name is more in line with the history of infanticide (and I’m sure you don’t want to hear the estimated percentage of babies this happened to...), i.e. throwing into rivers or the sea, with or without the possible guilt-relieving vessel (not the first example in antiquity: Darius, Moses, Perseus, Semiramis, etc. (or later: Väinämöinen), their survival often a litmus test for being ‘destined for greatness’), resulting in his name being originally Oedipais (swollen, i.e. ‘the billows’, or agitated sea). And three-month-old Kullervo is also thrown into the water in a barrel and survives. This, at least, gives us our first tenuous links between Oedipus, Kalevipoeg and Kullervo/Kalevanpoika. The second is the mother/incest motif: where Oedipus marries his mother, Kalevipoeg/Kullervo seduce/rape their sister, and both mother and sister commit suicide. Whether this reflects different attitudes to incest – stricter in the harsher-to-live-in north? – is another kettle of fish. Third: destruction of the land: all three, in different ways, wreak havoc. For Kalevipoeg, this would be outside Kreutzworld, where he is occasionally merged with the devil, and his plowing made the land infertile. And fourth: oracles. Oedipus’ is well known: kill Dad, marry Mum. Kalev foretells his yet-to-be-born son’s glory then promptly falls ill and dies, and Kalevipoeg ends up dying due to a double enchantment on his sword: one on Kalevipoeg by its maker, the other he placed himself, but aiming at someone else, cutting off his lower legs (see Chinese whisper above). Kullervo, son of the sole survivor of his uncle’s fratricidal massacre, prophesies he will kill the man and all his clan (which he does). But, still, nothing absolutely clear-cut, as expected with tales dating that far back. Tell enough stories and you have to find similarities between one or the other. Further studies along these lines could well reveal more. What about the name Kullervo? Could it be related to some generative entity, cf. Swedish kull (brood, litter), PIE *ǵelt- ‎(womb), modern Estonian kull/kult (male animal, boar) or even Finnish kull (penis)? The possibility of Kalev being related to kala (fish) is not necessarily a red herring, Baltic or otherwise: Oinas believed the terms Kalev and Kalevipoeg designated persons of the early Estonian and Karelian nobility, and what better name to give a coastal sea lord/dynasty whose main source of revenue could well be fish (although if Dark Age Greece is anything to go by, it may well have been piracy too, or instead)? Kalev to Kullervo or Kullervo to Kalev is but one step, and if, as Sefton suggests, Kullervo is a distant literary cousin of old Germanic characters such as Beowulf and Sigurð, both of whose stories revolve around gold or hoards and/or monsters/dragons, and if his name is causatively related to kulta, Finnish for gold^*, an early version of the character might have been a person or mythological figure involved in a once remarkable find. As you’ve probably noticed, I could go on for hours. But, QED, won’t. One last thing: there’s something about the Finnish Kalevala’s mysterious sampo which reminds me of Orpheus’ lyre. Just saying. Don’t @ me.

^* Sturgeon General’s warning: not all that’s black is caviar. Caveat.