I Stället För Papper

I stället för papper

Number 9, September 2018

I stället för papper

Number 9, September 2018 Special NoFF report issue

I stället för papper started out as an experiment in electronic fanzine publishing, and this is the ninth ish. All previous ishes were published in Swedish, but since this one will be dominated by the my con report from Finncon, where I was the NoFF delegate, I thought it politic to write in a language that all the Finnish fen (fenn?) could readily understand. Next ish, if it comes, will probably go back to Swedish. While the first ishes had good response, it has slowly been falling off, to the point that the previous issue didn’t receive any comments or letters at all. Now, the fanzine culture within sf fandom has always been first and foremost about communication with other fen. I believe that’s part of why the fanzines in other subcultures—like comics—are having an easier time to survive today, because they are more focused on self-expression. Now, both communication and self-expression have always been part of every fanzine, and even within sf fandom there have been fanzines more focused on self-expression. But as a culture, we put more emphasis on the role of communication for the fanzines, while comics, art, or maybe also music focused more on self-expression. That of course made the role for fanzines more at risk with the rise of social media on the Internet, because fanzines for the most part suck as a form of social interaction. And while I have read a lot of lamentation about the lack of fanzines and the long-form reading and writing that were part of their culture, most fen today seems to have fallen out of the practice of actually reading and writing long-form fannish writing. I’m not saying there aren’t fen, or even relatively new fen, who still practice it—Johan Jönsson’s con reports are wonderful—but there are fewer of them and less long-form responses. I stället för papper also suffered from that lack of practice at reading and writing, but other factors might have contributed. It is distributed as ePub. Maybe it would have been more successful as a PDF fanzine, but at the same time I received several early comments that appreciated the ePub format, being more suited to reading on small screens and with better navigation tools. Or I just didn’t write about stuff that my subscribers were interested in with my most recent ishes. Quite probably everything above was a factor. To continue on with fannish writing in general, there is of course one type of fannish long-form writing that is alive and arguably healthier than ever, and that is the often maligned fanfic. But fanfic today has built its own ecosystem dedicated to their own needs and requirements, much like filk did earlier, and while that development has meant more and better fanfic, just like it meant more and better filk, it has also brought with it a more fragmented and walled-off fandom. The development has in the short term been excellent for fanfic, but I’m not sure it’s been to the good for fandom taken in the widest possible sense. Of course, influential parts of classic sf fandom have been and still are actively hostile to fanfic, so I can certainly understand fanficcers wanting to build their own thing, just like filkers did. Happy reading! Buses, Boats, Trains, Trams, Cars, Cables, and Aircraft ~ or ~

The Results of the 2018 NoFFicial Itineröra to Finncon and Environs

Every year, the mighty fan Johan Anglemark sends out a missive to the Sverifannish masses to seek out proper candidates for NoFF: The Nordic Fan Fund. Its goal is to send out a lone Swedish fan to boldly go to another con in one of the Nordic Countries1, to seek new inspiration there, awe them with the quality of our fen, and promote the friendship and solidarity between our Nordic fandoms. Or just encourage a fan to get away from Swedish fandom for a while. In its beginning, NoFF was present in Denmark, Norway, Finland, and Sweden, but currently it is only Finland and Sweden that sends NoFF delegates to the other countries. The NoFF delegate receives a stipend enough to cover travel to the con, con membership (if it is not comped by the receiving con), and hotel and pocket money during the con. This year, the fandidates were veteran fan Anders Pemer and myself, and after a vote within Swedish fandom (not limited to fen living in Sweden) and after a hiccup as our preliminary travel goal Norcon in Oslo was cancelled, I was chosen to be Sverifandom’s delegate to Finncon in Turku, Finland. After discussing it with my family, and in line with my earlier thoughts about NoFF, we decided to do a tour around Finndom before the con and visit her parents in Boden after Finncon, thus creating a NoFF tour, much as the TAFF and GUFF delegates do. For what it’s worth, you can read about Johan Anglemark’s TAFF tour to Worldcon 76 on

Monday 9 July Our bus transfer to the ferry from Stockholm was scheduled to leave at 9:50, so we were not in a blistering hurry. We managed to pack the last things and clean the kitchen and toilets before leaving the apartment. Never underestimate the joy of coming home to a place that not smells of bad food. The bus trips (first from Bankeryd to Jönköping, and then from Jönköping to Stockholm) went smoothly, and we arrived at Värtahamnen a little ahead of schedule, and could quickly board the ferry Silja Serenade. Buses done. Sadly, the onboard Internet wasn’t reachable in our small cabin on second deck, but that gave us greater incentive to explore the ship. On the other hand, we travelled on the same ship when last we went to Finland, to Worldcon 75. We had dinner at the only budget restaurant on the ship, and then we finally managed to locate the teens suite for Hulda, where Hulda and I played a few games of shufflepuck, and Hulda played a little Playstation.

1 For NoFF purposes, Ireland is nowadays considered an emergency Nordic country. Hulda and I had planned to watch the dance show Independance, but sadly we missed the first half of it; shufflepuck can do that. I sought out the karaoke bar on top of the ferry, where I sang Wolf von Witting’s “Valar Morgulis” (ttto “O Holy Night”) to the astonishment of some of the audience; I guess partly since I can actually do the tune decently, secondly by singing an entirely different text. Sadly, the karaoke version only ran for two verses, and Wolf’s filk is three verses long, so they missed out on his awesome conclusion to the song. Fittingly enough I sang it just as we were entering the harbour in Mariehamn, where George RR Martin was the guest of honour at Archipelacon in 2015. I made sure to mention that; we sf fen should take every chance to namedrop we can among the mundanes since we so seldom can do it. This time the karaoke seemed to focus more on disco and pop tunes, so I decided on my own “Alien” (ttto “Främling”) as my next song but screw up and give the code for “En kungens man” in Björn Afzelius’s version, which (a) is not a poppy tune, (b) I have not yet managed to get a grip on the tempo of his version of the song despite him being the one who wrote it originally; I much prefer Monica Törnells version. I still manage to muddle through. And I did some fanac, even if I was a lone fan in a sea of mundanes. The ferries between Finland and Sweden are a strange experience, and were even the focus of a panel at Worldcon 75. In a way, the entire experience is liminal: we are travelling between countries and time zones (so no-one knows if the clock is eight or nine yet), communication is heard in at least three languages constantly, there are two currencies in effect, everyone is either going somewhere else or just trying to escape Mundania before getting back, the booze flows, and there is a barrage of cheap luxury and usually warmed- over entertainment. And that is on the Silja ferries, which are considered the more upscale alternative to the more party-oriented Viking ferries. Unlike Johan Anglemark, who took the ferry mainly for climate reasons, we used it because it because it was cheaper for three people (compared to a flight and a hotel night) and we had a direct bus connection to the ferry terminal. In truth, we were a little unsure if the ferry really is better from a climate standpoint than a modern aircraft, but didn’t find any good treatises on the subject on a cursory web search.

Tuesday 10 July After a hearty breakfast, including a karjalanpiirakka with munavoi for me, and some splendid views of the Helsinki archipelago we got off the ferry. Buses and boats done. Not content with one ferry we took the next ferry out to Suomenlinna. The cobblestones were not kind to Therese’s bad knee, but at least we didn’t go there after Worldcon 75 when she was dependant on crutches. We walked around the first half of the main route, and while Therese visited the Customs museum, Hulda and I visited the Second World War era submarine Vesikko. The last was fitting since Hulda and I had visited the Swedish and slightly larger submarine U-3 in Malmö, built only a few years later, a week earlier. But the Finnish submarine museum could take a hint from the Swedish one, in presenting the usage instructions for the onboard toilet. Those included at least ten steps in opening and closing valves, turning levers, and so on that had to performed in the exact order unless the entire toilet would spew stuff around it. The punishment for failure to follow the instructions was simple and fitting, at least on the Swedish boat: clean the toilet. We also bought postcards as well as presents for my father-in-law at one of the handicraft shops on Suomenlinna. We didn’t find any restaurant with a decent selection on the island (not that we looked that hard), and Therese’s knees began to complain, so we aborted walking the entire tour and took the ferry back. Lunch was had at an upscale pizza place, after which we took the tram to our hostel. The heat and the pizza took its toll on us, so we promptly collapsed in our room. Sadly, there had been no success in gathering a gathering of fenn in Helsinki, but that might have been for the best given our energy levels. Buses, boats, and trams done.

Wednesday 11 July Wednesday morning started with a quick visit to Ateneum Art Museum, where especially Hulda and Therese enjoyed themselves discussing themes, feelings, and techniques in the various pieces. We focused on their permanent exhibition of mainly Finnish art. Very much worth a visit, and anyone interested in art one can easily spend a day there. After having been thoroughly classically cultured we got onto the train at noon to Tampere. One of the things that I had thought about when planning my NoFF trip was that Finland had a large fandom that was geographically spread out, and at cons I easily become socially overwhelmed and speak mainly with the people I already know in some way. By visiting the local fan groups, I’d expand the number of people I would recognise at Finncon, increase the time of casual and relaxed chatting, get some practice at opening conversations with the fenn and also get to see some more of Finland. Among the Nordic fandoms, it’s really only possible to do this in Finland and Sweden, and far more practical in Finland than Sweden. In Denmark and Norway, fandom is currently largely limited to the capitals, and Norway also has the same issue as Sweden, in that the distance between the major population centres are rather long. In comparison, Tampere is at most two hours by train or car to all the cities of Finndom: Helsinki, Turku, and Jyväskylä. Though now that I think of it, any visit by a NoFF delegate to Copenhagen fandom can include a sidetrip to Malmöfandom in Sweden and vice versa. That’s only half an hour by train. And the Swedish fannish centres of Linköping, Västerås, Stockholm, and Uppsala are also all at a convenient distance from each other. We arrived at Tampere early afternoon and were met by Marianna Leikomaa (Kisu). Buses, boats, trams, and trains done. Kisu was my boss during Worldcon 75, and she’s also one of the central people in Tampere fandom. We started with walking out to Kisu’s mother’s apartment where we would overnight; Kisumama wasn’t home, but had allowed us to stay there. After installing ourselves there and admiring Kisumama’s bookshelves, we took the bus back into the city and visited the Spy Museum. In hindsight, it might have been smarter to take the bus out and maybe walk back; luggage one direction, longer distance the other. The museum held some interesting stuff, but was rather small and cramped. Hulda had fun eavesdropping on our conversations with the long-distance microphone. Most of the stuff were from the Second World War and focused on the great powers, but they had pieces about Stig Bergling and the evacuation of the Finnish military intelligence department to Sweden in 1944. Then we crossed the alley to the German-styled brewery restaurant Plevna for a dinner meet with the Tampere fenn. The place was sympathetic because it didn’t play music, had good food at decent prices, and also sold bheer in smaller sizes that were not overpriced compared to ordering a big one. Since they brewed their own bheer, I focused on testing all of their own non-IPA stuff, and found all of it but their wheat bheer to my taste.

A picture worthy of Lars-Olov Strandberg, leaving me both sad and amused. Photo by Marianna Leikomaa. In the end, and after moving to another table, we were eleven fen present: eight Tampere fenn and us three Swedes. I had met several of them earlier, but only really knew Kisu, Jukka Särkkijärvi, and Päivi Itäpuro since before. Neither Päivi nor her husband would go to Finncon, making this my only chance of meeting them this year. As usual when fen meet, the discussions were wide-ranging, including things like ﬁlking—Kisu and Päivi are among Finland’s premiere fannish music-makers, but in entirely different ways—past and future cons, student life, what to do in Tampere, and other stuff. The night ended far too late with Pasi Välkkynen buying at least one round too much to us last few remaining holdouts. That might be the cause of Jukka and me starting to brew plans for a joint Swedish-Finnish con in Haparanda-Tornio in order to take back the title of the northernmost sf con that the Icelanders grabbed recently. Sometime during Finncon we might have mentioned that idea to Eemili Aro and Johan Jönsson.

Thursday 12 July Despite the best efforts of Pasi the night before I still woke up early on Thursday, and took the noon train to Jyväskylä, where I had to wait around a bit until Saija Kyllönen could leave work. She had given the rendezvous spot at a bar, where I had planned to pick something to eat while waiting, but here the to me strange practice of some Finnish bars not serving food bit me. As a result, I was rather hungry when she arrived. We had a late lunch and then she gave a walking tour of central Jyväskyla and the university area, including several buildings designed by Alvar Aalto; Jyväskylä holds the largest amount of buildings designed by him in the world, and they also span the longest part of his career. Sadly, a lot of them currently have issues with mold. One thing she lamented about her city was that it was built facing away from the lake, a sign to her that the Finns are poor at appreciating the water. I observed that that might be related to that I had seen very few fountains in Finnish cities. Helsinki and Turku are sort of exceptions to this trend of facing away from the water, but Turku was built during the Swedish era and has always had a very sizable cultural inﬂuence from Sweden, and Helsinki was built under Russian inﬂuence. We met up with Jyvyskylä fandom at the restaurant and bar Sohwi, which also coincided with the release of the latest club fanzine Alienisti #42. Chatting was less free early on, perhaps because most of the local fenn hadn’t met me before, preferred to speak Finnish, or were engrossed in the new fanzine—that being a sign of a trufan, I would never hold that against them—but after a while it opened up and I chatted a lot about politics and fan history, especially with Irma Hirsjärvi. She was very impressed with Piers Cawley’s “Child of the Library” and wanted to sing it for the re-opening of a local library. Irma reminded me a lot of Talis Kimberley, Mats Linder, and Seppo Laine in combining grass-roots progressive political activism with being a fan.

Friday 13 July Saija and I shared a cab back to the city for breakfast, since she was leaving for a month’s vacation in Europe directly after Finncon, hitting Stockholm, Paris, Eurocon in Amiens, and touring in Normandy. I took the late morning train to Tampere where I changed trains to the one to Turku and met up with Therese and Hulda again. While changing platforms I also discovered Harry from among the fenn I met in Jyvyskäly, traveling with the same set of trains, but he was seated at some other spot on the trains. Harry seemed to be among the more common and taciturn variety of Finn, unlike most fenn I knew so far, but it’d have been nice if VR, the Finnish railways, had allowed the chance to chat more one on one. Or as the joke goes: how does one recognise a Finnish extrovert? They look at your shoes instead of their own. I might have a mistaken impression of Finnish temperament because I mostly have met those who have dared to visit a foreign fandom. The Finnish trains were generally a nice experience. Comfy seats, usually smooth runs, well-designed toilets, every one that we travelled on ran on time—though that surprised several of the fenn I spoke with— and reliable Internet service. And then they ruined it all by making stops every ten minutes; even their high-speed trains seem to make very frequent stops and for long stretches cannot reach their top speeds of 200–220 kph. We were rather hungry when we arrived in Turku, and so we searched out the first available restaurant we could find on the way to the hotel. It turned out to be a rather mediocre Chinese restaurant, but at least its buffet was filling. About halfway through the meal we could see the wind starting to pick up and hear some thunder, and soon we saw the lamps in the restaurant starting to wave around and felt some raindrops. While sitting ten meters into the restaurant and perpendicular to the wind. The owner ran to close the door while 18 millimeters of rain fell in fewer minutes. That meant it was hot and humid when we walked to the hotel instead of hot and dry. Hotelli Helmi turned out to be small but nice, and they quickly sorted out our room when our first assigned one turned out to not have been cleaned yet. In the reception we met Mikko Seppänen and Elisa Wiik from Tampere who were also staying there. After we had installed ourselves I set out to reconnoiter the city, i.e. the routes to the con venue and to the Cosmic Comic Cafe, where the Friday evening party was held. Sadly, it turned out to be a bar without any food offerings at all and limited to 18-year-olds and over, so Hulda wasn’t allowed in. Instead, we took dinner at the Hesburger close to our hotel, after which I went alone to the evening party. Can’t visit Finland without going to a Hesburger, it seems. Arriving at the party I learned that there had been some pre-con programme items at the University of Turku that had only been announced in Finnish, despite several items in English, and on different channels than the regular programming pages. The concom was mostly made up of relatively inexperienced people, and the way programming was presented was one of the areas where this showed, with the schedule spread out over several different and disparate places. I started out chatting with a lot of the usual suspects that I already knew from earlier cons, like Kisu, her sister Karoliina, Tero Ykspetejä, The Big Kahuna Jukka Halme, Ben Roimola, Susanna Paarma, Edmund Schluessel, Jukka Särkijärvi, Hanna Hakkarainen, Maria Turtschaninoff—one of the GoHs—Eemili Aro, Mikko, and Elisa. Several Swedish fen were also present, like Tommy Persson, this year’s TAFF delegate Johan Anglemark, Mårten Svantesson, Johan Jönsson, and Michael Pargman. But I did try to go out from my Swedish social bubble and talk with some new people. Arguably, my success was rather limited in both chatting and in remembering the new people, but I did chat with several people that were unknown to me then and to some degree still are. I did find out the hard way that normally causing a language shift in a conversation could make it hard to insert oneself into it, echoing the earlier issues from Jyväskylä. At least with Danish or Norwegian, I can listen in and at least reasonably move into it with a sensible remark at a sensible point; not so much with Finnish. Johan Jönsson I am not, who apparently is able to work out at least the general gist of a conversation in Finnish, like if the bread is gluten free or not. I also chatted a bit with Pasi Karppanen and Vilgot Strömsholm, con chair and treasurer, respectively, and they wanted me to be present for the opening ceremony to be presented there as this year’s NoFF delegate.

Saturday 14 July Also known as the first day of the con. I was quietly sitting at the breakfast table at Cafe Helmi—not associated with Hotel Helmi, despite sharing the same building and the Helmi name—with my tea when Carolina Gómez Lagerlöf suddenly said “hi”; she had just arrived with the overnight ferry from Stockholm. She would stay at the same hotel as us, but the reception wasn’t open Saturdays except between 11 and 18, and the cafe couldn’t help her, leaving her the issues (a) when to check in, (b) how to store her luggage in the meantime. She could check in after programming ended for the day, but she had her entire package for her Eurocon trip—we were not alone in using Finncon as a starting point for a longer trip. In the end, we decided she would leave her luggage in our room, and then she could check in after programming ended at 17. Carolina, Hulda, and I walked to the con, and since I had to be present for the opening ceremony already at 10, I didn’t get much time to check out the venues before I had to make sure I was present in the front row of room IX, where I found out it started a quarter past! The guest of honours of the con were Lauren Beukes of South Africa, Maria Turtschaninoff of Finland, and Merja Polvinen of Finland as the academic guest. I never had the chance to chat with Lauren, but had met Maria and Merja at earlier cons, and also got the chance to speak with them briefly during the con; Therese went to one of Lauren’s programme items and also talked a bit with her. All three did an excellent job at being guests of honour, as far as I could judge. And the concom here did something new that according to NoFF administrator Johan Anglemark never—or at least seldom—has happened before: I was called up and introduced as the NoFF delegate as part of the opening ceremony. I said a few words and sang my old filk song ”Längtan till fandom”, chosen because it is (a) short, (b) to a tune that is reasonably well-known in Finland, (c) it is a celebratory song about fandom; of course, being a Swedish filk song, it doesn’t paint a wholly rosy view of fandom. After the opening ceremony I rushed around trying to locate the booklets for my filk singalong “Allsång i rymden”—that is, Singalong in Space—finding the room where I would have my item at 11, get Hulda to Therese, and prepping the room. The venue was new to me, the con was spread out over no less than three buildings, and at least I had trouble trying to interrelate the large map of the outside with the interior maps. It didn’t help that the corridors were rather small —“don’t stop in the tube”—and that there were vendors and exhibitors stuck into all sorts of odd corners, some of them even being in dead ends. I later tried to find the Finncon flea market, but never managed to do so. It turned out to have been located in yet another building, and with signs to it only in Finnish. Johan Jönsson might have been able to find it using his knowledge in Finnish, but mine is only sufficient to interpret the pizza menu based on Swedish cognates. I had asked for twenty copies of my booklet, but only received six that were printed at half-size. Luck then that only three people turned up for “Allsång i rymden”, and that’s including me and my gopher. Having the item at 11 in the morning, on the first day of the con, and against Lauren’s GoH speech probably didn’t help attendance; fannish music- making is not an early-morning activity, not even at dedicated filk cons. But all three of us present had a nice time regardless, even if I had trouble finding the right tune to Sam Lundwall’s “Möte i rymden”; it’s been a consistent issue for me since Per Lindberg pointed out that it could be sung to the tune of Evert Taube’s “Möte i monsunen”. Meanwhile, Hulda and Therese participated in the Klingon language workshop, where they learnt some helpful Klingon phrases and Hulda impressed by showing a basic knowledge of the IPA symbols. Later on, when Hulda accidentally tickled Therese, Therese gave off a very Klingon-like sound, leading Hulda to ask if Klingons are ticklish. That gave rise to a very spirited discussion, including if Klingons would admit that they could possibly be ticklish, and if empirical research was advised. I ran into Ahrvid Engholm, who made an even more sad and downtrodden appearance than last time I had seen him, since his backpack had been stolen the night before, including his computer. We chatted a bit, and I believe he later received help from Ben Roimola in getting back to Stockholm. We did a bit of a count and came to the conclusion that there were at least ten Swedish fen present at this year’s Finncon, despite missing some of the usual suspects, like Fia Karlsson. I also found the secret socialising spot for the con. It was under the covered second-floor walkway between two of the venues used, that was under shadow for most of the day and always received a nice and pleasant breeze. One could always stop there and talk with some other congoers for a while. Talking with Ahrvid, some random socialising, and especially meeting up with Therese and Hulda after their workshop led to me almost missing the concert with Riverside Castle, Turku’s own nörttikuoro2. I did in fact miss their first number, but got to hear the rest of their concert of a bit more than half an hour. They were 25 women strong including their choir leader, and did a great selection of songs from Game of Thrones, Doctor Who, Star Trek, the video game Portal, and some other sources. They were an excellent choir, but I

2 Nerd choir. think it would be awesome if they and the other Finnish nörttikuoro could do some more lyrically focused songs. As of right now, most of their repertoire is made up of instrumentals from popular media that they vocalise. Songs like “The Green Hills of Earth” or “Falling Free” deserve to be sung by good and well-rehearsed choirs like these. My next item was at 14 with my talk “A Musical History of Swedish Fandom”, where I talked about the development of Swedish fandom and illustrated it through the music that was made. I had about a dozen listeners, including a very interested fan and musician from the US. Ahrvid Engholm was also there listening, and seemed to be in fannish nirvana as I played David Nessle’s “Pappersframmatningen är trasig” in Erik Andersson’s recording. Though if I do it in an international setting again I will have to look into how to better present the Swedish-language songs, which both at times are integral parts of the presentation and also are quite interesting in their own rights. It also felt tricky to do a presentation with both one of the principals of the presentation—Ahrvid—and my daughter present. Afterwards, American fan Ravi Basawa, Finnish fan Orjo Pättiniemi, and Ahrvid came forward to ask questions and give comments, which was really nice. But we had to vacate the room always immediately, since my talk lasted for 45 minutes and 13 seconds. By that time both Hulda and I were hungry and needed energy for the play Tosi tarina – En sann historia, so we had a quick snack in the green room. While waiting for Hulda in the lobby I had the only real scare during the convention: a fann I vaguely recognised stumbled while coming down the stairs and fell badly right in front of me. I shouted “security!” while trying to help out, mainly by holding his hand and offering some reassurances that help was on the way. One of the security supervisors was also quickly there, and since he had a radio and knew Finnish, I could pick up leave for the play with Hulda and a clean conscience. I ran into the guy the next day, and he was ﬁne except for being in pain. Apparently, he had had trouble with his ankles a long while, so it was not dehydration or deeper medical causes. The heat was the main issue for security for the con; with temperatures around 30 °C in buildings not built for air conditioning, dehydration was a big concern, especially for the many cosplayers. The play was an adaptation of A True Story by Lucian of Samosata on the lines of extreme budget and silliness. Hulda played as several hundred Greek sailors with great gusto, we wielded cucumbers as swords, and leeks as oars. Myself I played a horse-vulture with a rubber horsehead over my head, likely intended for a kid, so I was constantly lacking in oxygen, overheating, and couldn’t see a thing. That didn’t stop me from randomly breaking into song at times, per my instructions. Otherwise, we actors were all acting silently to the narration by Johan Anglemark. Sadly, the doors to our room for some reason locked just as our play was starting, so we got only half the audience we could have, including that Therese missed the play. One cucumber survived the ordeal, only to be eaten by Hulda.

Hulda devouring the surviving sword. Photo by Therese Norén. Then con programming closed at 17, one hour earlier than is normal for Finncons due to the contract with the venue. Between trying to learn the venue layout, the short day, and being part of several programme items, I was left wondering where the day and the con went. It also left me with a bit of corundrum: I had promised to reinforce the Filkkifriikit on their traditional guest of honour concert, Carolina needed help to retrieve her luggage at our hotel, and we were all seriously hungry. Something had to give, and that turned out to be most of the Filkkifriikit rehearsal. Instead Carolina and I went back to the hotel to check her in and return her luggage to her, and then we met Therese and Hulda for dinner, which ended up at Pincho’s, which manages to hit some form of hipster max. Ordering is by app, and they are serving tapas-sized offerings of various food. It was only after that that I went back to the venue for the Filkkifriikit rehearsal, which I found by following the singing. I did manage to join in the rehearsal of one of their songs, and then led a short rehearsal of my contribution: “Kom till Finncon” ttto “In the Navy”, originally written for Swecon 2018 but never performed there. The Finncon version had a few changes. Unlike earlier Filkkifriikit performances, this one had two songs in English and two in Swedish, but none in Finnish. Several of us went to dinner at nice and nearby Indian restaurant after rehearsal, where I attempted to internalise the three tunes for the songs I didn’t know, mostly succeeding in making everything be ttto “Strangers in the Night”. And here are the lyrics for “Kom till Finncon”; with normal text to be sung by the lead singer—in this case me—italic text to be sung by the choir, and the bold text to be sung by a strong basso within the choir. Var ﬁnns det gemenskap Och en massa kunskap I sf-fantasy Var kan du nu börja att Nå dina drömmar Om ett äkttrufhanniskt liv Var kan du få bra driv Skriva och att prata Läsa om astronomi Bråka i en fanfejd Eller prata sercon När vi alla möts här nu

Kom till Finncon Ja, där du hör paneler sju Kom till Finncon Ja, där vi alla är som du Kom till Finncon Kom nu neos och gör ett val Kom till Finncon, kom till Finncon Utan dej vi lider kval Kom till Finncon Kom hit till fandoms stora sal Kom till Finncon Det är ju här du blir en fan Kom till Finncon Kom nu neos och gör ett val Kom till Finncon, (kom till Finncon), kom till Finncon

Du ska dit, du ska dit Du ska dit som en neofan

Om du gillar rymden Är du redan vännen Som vi inte kände till På direkten kom nu Dräkterna dom har du Och föranmälan stänger ej Har du ej fyllt hundra Budgeten (den) ej spräcks Då kostar det ju ingenting För vi vill ju alla Att på Roscoe kalla Och på Finlands fandom se

Du ska dit, du ska dit Du ska dit som en neofan Vem jag? Du ska dit, du ska dit Du ska dit som en neofan Men, men, men, jag gillar inte scener. Hallå, hörni Jag blir nervös bara jag ser en mikrofon! Du ska dit, du ska dit Herreghu? Du ska dit, du ska dit Vad ska jag säga på en panel? Du ska dit, du ska dit Kom till Finncon Kom till Finncon

Ja, där du hör paneler sju Kom till Finncon Ja, där vi alla är som du Kom till Finncon Kom nu neos och gör ett val Kom till Finncon, kom till Finncon Utan dej vi lider kval Kom till Finncon Kom hit till fandoms stora sal Kom till Finncon Det är ju här du blir en fan Kom till Finncon Kom nu neos och gör ett val Kom till Finncon, (kom till Finncon) kom till Finncon The Saturday Finncon evening party was nice, and felt nicer than the one in Tampere in 2016, probably because we were less cramped and I knew more people. I chatted filk and music with Ravi and Jukka S, and when I heard he lived in Atlanta I told him he really should get to GAFilk. I listened to Carolina and Eemili talking about the escalating cost issues with Grenadine and the feasibility of an alternative, saw Michael defend the Swedish colours at Finnconkampen—he ended up in second place in the end and was quite happy with that, since the first prize was too large for him to take home easily—and chatted about politics and economics in Finland and Sweden with Orjo. His steampunk costume was impressive, especially given the heat, and his moustache was always in a delightful double curl. Our Filkkifriikit performance was probably passable at best, but the GoHs seemed to enjoy it nevertheless. It showed that I was not fully rehearsed in the main numbers, and I messed up one of the lines in “Kom till Finncon” when I started to sing a line about Swedish rather than Finnish fandom. But for a first amateur performance, the audience seemed to really like it. My last duties of the con done, I could finally relax with a bheer. I sat in a long discussion at one of the bar tables about Swedish dialects in both Finland and Sweden, and the benefits of going to cons for language learning. The semi-formal nature of panels make it easier to follow the discussion, and if one wants to make a question or comment, one has time to prepare and can do so without anyone else speaking, provided the panel and audience is well-behaved. Then I ended up in a group of Swedish-speaking fenn and Johan Jönsson, so we chatted genealogical research, the role of people named Johan in Swedish-speaking fandoms, and Brita Planck’s research on marriage customs in Swedish nobility during the 16th to 18th centuries. Also tall tales, where they refused to listen to the story about how my father-in-law ended up stuck in the sauna window in the middle of winter; they claimed that there was no way that story could be improved upon with telling. A bheer later I sat down with Linn Gröndahl, and we chatted for a long while about how we became part of fandom and how to best welcome neos. As usual, I raised my scepticism towards having specific programme items or places explicitly for neos, since they can be used to establish the idea of needing the correct decoder ring to become a trufan, and give the appearance of being welcoming to newcomers while in reality shunting them off to a ghetto they are not allowed to leave. That said, Linn gave some good reasons for the need of some structured welcome to new fen, especially in larger cons like Finncon. I think we both agreed that the most important part of having a welcoming fandom is that there are established fen willing to seek out neos and welcome them. Neo-friendliness is more a state of mind than an organisation. Much like I tried to do, hopefully with at least some success, during Finncon, despite not knowing Finnish or even really being very good at fannish outreach. I’m not saying every NoFF delegate ought to do this, but at least if one has been around in fandom for a while, then being a NoFFer should bring with itself some obligations on trying to foster fandom in the receiving country and con in some way. So despite being quite moderate with the bheer, I still arrived back at our hotel room well after midnight, Linn and me being among the last holdouts on the second floor of restaurant Kuolu.

Sunday 15 July Despite that most of my NoFFicial duties had been discharged, I was still up early on Sunday. I can apparently sleep late most morning, except when I’m up and about doing fanac. I got company on my morning walk past the Turku cathedral with one of the tech guys of the con; we spend most of the time walking together talking about shoemaking, not that either of us know much about the craft. As usual, I continued my habit of greeting Jukka Halme with some variation of “Good morning, great kahuna” in a booming voice at least once a con. He remarked that he very much wanted to avoid having to carry any sort of badges or patches for this Finncon, but still had ended up with two. The TSFS club had a great collection of badges with the current Finncon mascot Teppo Tulhu doing various stuff on their table, so I pinned one such on him showing Teppo running away with all their ill-gotten gains. Some other congoers continued the tradition, and by the dead dog party he had received some suitable decorations. At noon I had promised to help Ravi with some mid-number banter for his show “Fandom Life Otherworldly Encounters” under his cosplay alias Cthulified S’punk, a short show featuring undead, cosmic entities that see us with benign neglect—unlike the malign neglect of the Lovecraft entities—and our relation to fandom. I first thought he wanted more playful banter—thus my answer during a short mic check that the undead were mostly dead to me, which clearly left him nonplussed—but then I realised his themes were quite serious, and so I switched the approach in my answers. It was clear that Ravi loved to perform, but he wasn’t helped by the rather cramped area he had to perform in and the tech setup where the gain on his vocals wasn’t enough for them to be clearly heard over the louder parts of his backing track. Maiju Jalkanen danced beautifully to his songs. Sadly, this meant I missed the Fantastisk podd recording during Finncon. I then set out to search for Hulda and Therese, who had gone to listen to Edmund’s lecture on gravitational wave astronomy; Hulda is a huge fan of his lectures since Fantastika. I missed them leaving the room, but chatted a bit with Edmund, who was worried he might have lost parts of his audience due to being too technical. I can reassure him that at least one of the persons, namely Therese, that fell asleep during his talk did so because of sleep deficit and heat. She has more than enough background in math, radar, and radiology to keep up with more than a little technical stuff. When I found them I had to take over caring for Hulda due to them having had a quarrel, so Hulda and I first had a snack in the cafeteria—the food in the restaurant didn’t look that appealing to either of us—and then we searched out the gaming room. The Academic Nintendo Club of Turku University had several 80’s and 90’s vintage video games going, so she got the opportunity to test Tetris on a NES, and watched some experienced Tetris players at the game. They also had some Gameboys and Mario Kart games going. That allowed me the time to find the nearest ATM to get some cash and buy Maria Turtschaninoff ’s newest book “Breven från Maresi”, which had an early release during Finncon, and also get it signed by her. During the signing session, Susanna Paarma went above and beyond in serving as her con liaison by standing behind her with no less than two fans. I listened a bit to “Superheroes at work”, a NSFW presentation by Saija Aro, but found it didn’t fit my taste. Meanwhile, Therese and Hulda went to listen the panel “Left Hand of Darkness, and beyond” about gender, language, and science fiction, which probably was the first panel on the con that was too advanced for Hulda, mainly due to the many references to a book she hadn’t read. Therese really liked it, but thought it had been better with the experience of an older person on it—I immediately thought about Liisa Rantalaiho. After that, we were really hungry, so went to the nearby Indian restaurant that I had visited the day before. That meant that I missed most of the closing ceremony, so I have to apologise to the concom for skipping that one; it’s one of the dangers of having family along to a con and not having a firm schedule. While waiting for our dinner, someone on the online fangroup that Therese is active in right now mentioned that they would follow her to whatever fandom she joined. That led to me writing a new filk song right while we waited, ttto “I Will Follow Him”: I will follow her, Follow her wherever she may go There isn’t a fandom too strange A work so obscure It can keep me away

I must follow her, ever since she wrote that ﬁc I knew That like her I always must do And nothing can keep me away She is my fannish muse

I like her, I like her, I like her And where she goes I’ll follow, I’ll follow, I’ll follow From now until forever, forever, forever

I will follow her, Follow her wherever she may go There isn’t a fandom too strange A work so obscure It can keep me away Away from my muse Coming back to the con and its closing ceremony, I did get to hear the announcement of the guest of honours for the next Finncon in Jyväskylä on 5–7 July: Kersti Juva, Raine Koskimaa, Cheryl Morgan and Charles Stross. Then I slowly sauntered towards the dead dog party, which was held at the Terrakoti, the club house for several fannish and nerdy clubs in Turku. Since I was in no hurry to a party that wasn’t opening yet, I sat down with three Harry Potter cosplayers on a nearby green, as they were following the meltdown and drama around the Finnish Animecon held the same weekend via Twitter. We could chat a bit about the little I knew about Swedish Harry Potter fandom, and the Hufflepuff among them perked right up when I mentioned that I had written a Hufflepuff song. When I mentioned how ose it was, he decided it was best to skip it for now, given his state of mind, so I simply sent him the lyrics. I also noted Jukka Halme walking past, so I concluded that I wasn’t entirely lost on my way to the dead dog party. Maps and notes are good; experienced native guides are better. Of course, this particular Jukka lives in Helsinki and not Turku, so I may have been doing faulty assumptions and have prejudices about the fenn. Prejudices or not, I got to Terrakoti safe and sound. The party was still being organised, but my order of priorities were quite clear: first to find something non-alcoholic to drink, second to sample the library in order to find a copy of Scifistin malja, third to find something alcoholic to drink. The first was easily achieved. I then set out to systematically sample their fanzine library, where I was joined by another fenn on the lookout for a specific Star Trek fanzine. The TSFS fanzine library was very well-organised, so we quickly located what she was looking for; not so much what I was looking for. Instead I had to ask for help, and I believe Tero introduced me to the librarian. She knew exactly what I was looking for, and it turned out Terrakoti also encompassed a large storage room filled with things, including a box of Scifistin malja, second printing. I was told I could have as many as I wanted free of charge, so ended up taking two: one for myself and one for Interfilk. Terrakoti is shared between several nerdy clubs in Turku, which they timeshare on an evening basis. The club house itself was a rather small room, but it had an adjoining shared dinner room with a side room where they showed some form of sportsball finals. Most importantly, it had a sauna with associated communal space right across the courtyard. After a short while the call went out that the dead dog party proper was about to start: the sauna was hot! That’s the key to any social interaction with Finns: the sauna’s the place to be. I ended up sitting beside Henry Söderlund, Finndom’s resident photographer who took many great photographs at the Helsinki Worldcon, and one of the Finnish tech guys at the same Worldcon, so we chatted a lot about our respective Worldcon experiences. I got a lot of war stories about the testing and setup of Helsinki’s registration system, and the way the tech division and Messukeskus staff had set up Hall 3 for programming overnight. One of the real strengths of Finnish fandom is that they are doing so much resource pooling with other fannish groups, like the hackers, the roleplayers, and the anime-fans. That meant Worldcon 75 had ample access to trained security people that grok fandom, as well as excellent tech resources both in people and in materiel. For all the issues that Worldcon 75 had to face, those two things never faltered. Carolina, Sini Neuvonen, and I talked a lot about how to handle code of conducts, past and present harassment incidents, and Internet meltdowns. Then I got to chat with Shimo, who signed one of the copies of Scifistin malja to Interfilk. We also talked a bit about filking both Finnish and international, and when Iivari Koutonen asked if I had any filk songs based on Bellman I nearly laughed, since that’s how I came to start my own road into filking, and have by now written 27 filks based on 15 Bellman songs; twelve of them are based on Gubben Noach… In the end, I settled on “Höstcon 85”, a “con report” of a disastrous Swedish con that year and based on Fredman’s Epistle n:o 80. Back in the main party area Pasi Karppanen, the Finncon chair, kindly gave me a tour of and introduction to Terrakoti and the societies that shared it. He also gave some more details on the Turku tradition of filking, that is centered around the semi-formal dinner parties—“sittning”—that are a cornerstone of student life in Sweden and Finland. Back out in the courtyard, Hanna Hakkarainen had made sounds about leaving for at least half an hour, and I foolishly mentioned that to her. The result was us standing around chatting and drinking bheer after bheer; easily done since the best one available was Lapin Kulta—there was another brand available, but it was worse. I believe I made Linn blush when I quipped that Hanna needed to bribe me with bheer in order to make me stay around, while Linn could do it simply with spirited conversation. Sometime around here, me and Åland fan Johan Bergman got into filk songs, and so we sang soft versions of classics like “Jag vill bo i rymden” and “Satellitsången”, soft since we were outside with apartments all around us. Somewhere around here Hanna declared either victory or defeat—I’m not sure which—and left us. Finding myself back in Terrakoti, I discovered that they had better stuff there: a bottle of faux-absinthe. That led to more singing of Swedish and Finnish drinking songs, mainly by Shimo, Johan B, and myself, as we rounded up the bottle and the half-full large glass of the stuff. As Chris Bell said the next morning in another context, filking is at its best when it is occuring in the nooks and crannies of fandom. Then I got a stern text from my wife that it was time to amble home. I got company with Mikko and Elisa for most of the way to the hotel.

Monday 16 July Despite the best efforts of Hanna, Johan B, weak Finnish bheer, and faux-absinthe, I managed to be up early, and sat down with first Carolina and then Chris Bell and husband for breakfast. Chris turned out to be involved in British filking, having known Gytha North and also had organised some of the British filk cons; if only I had known that earlier. It also explained why I had had found her somewhat familiar, since we had both been at Quoi de Neuf. We got to talk about the distinctions between hamlets, villages, towns, and cities in England. Having checked out from the hotel, we had to brave the bus system of Turku, which caused quite a bit of stress. In the end, we found ourselves at the Turku train station, which seemed oddly disassociated with the local bus lines. We had ice cream in the company of Kisu, Pasi V, Mikko, and Elisa until they had to board their train to Tampere. We also split up, with Therese going in search of the Turku city library for some alone time, while Hulda and I set out to plan our day. Which turned out to be trickier than expected. The biological museum was closed due to a water leak, and she wasn’t interested in the old castle. In the end, the heat and con had sapped a lot of our energy, so we ended up at the city library too, but at another end. The city library was in a wonderful old building—built in 1903, but based on a 17th century building in Stockholm, so it looked far older in its style—that had been heavily but carefully extended, and it was interesting to note how differently the mainland Finnish libraries catalogued their books compared to Swedish libraries. The only Finnish library I had visited earlier had been the city library of Mariehamn, and that one used the Swedish SAB system that I am quite familiar with. It felt odd to see all the non- fiction books being a mix of languages on the shelves. They also had very impressive comics sections, where I checked out some of David Nessle’s “Den maskerade proggaren” and Hulda delved into one of Peter Madsen’s “Valhalla” books. Late afternoon we joined forces and went in search of Italian food, guided by Google. The first spot turned out to be more of a tapas place, but the second one was excellent, serving a wonderful lasagna. The owner turned out to be Italian, so Therese got to practice some of her Italian phrases. Then we slowly walked back towards the train station, both due to the heat and Therese’s bad knee. And there we boarded our next train: the night train to Kemi. For the most part, this was an excellent choice: everything was much more modern than the often rather run-down Swedish night trains—and even when refurbished, they keep their 70s design—with comfortable beds and well-thought out design. Only issue was that the nearest toilet didn’t have a door that locked; I still used it, but had to physically hold onto the door handle. The train also brought cars along, something which my father-in-law became very interested in for his regular trips southwards.

Tuesday 17 July We got up as we passed Oulu, and as we passed a succession of forest, a small barn typical of northern Sweden, and a river, I asked Therese if she felt at home. She did. We were met in Kemi by my in-laws, and we had breakfast in the nice cafe close by the station. I should note here that temperatures were already quite high, close to 30 °C, and this was not that far south of the polar circle. We were not in a hurry anywhere, so we took the time to visit the Kemi culture centre, which hosted a nice library (the Finns take their books seriously), the Kemi Art Museum, currently showing a selection of local artists, where the statuettes carved from wood were the most interesting, a concert hall, and the Kemi Historical Museum. The latter turned out to be quite interesting, especially with regards to the bronze age settlements of the area, when the sealine was much higher than it is today. At the same time, there wasn’t that much to say about the history of the area before the 19th century, since little is known about it. Then we drove to Boden, and the shift in road quality between Finland and Sweden was very noticable. The Finns both spend more money on their road network up north and a lot of extra time to make sure the roads up there can stand the harsh climate. We passed the rivers of Torne, Kalix, and Råne before finally arriving in Boden. Buses, boats, trains, trams, and cars done. Most of the rest of the day was spent recovering from all the travels, but I did start to take a look at my copy of Scifistin malja. There I became interested in the short song “Ulottavuuksien välinen harha-askel” by Shimo Suntila, since its melody was just noted as “Minnet”, it started out with “Minne?”, and its scansion fit with the song “Memory” by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Some research showed that “minne” in Finnish meant “where”, and the song took this pun between Finnish and Swedish and turned it into a lament of a traveler having no clue where they are in neither time nor space. So with the help of Google translate to get the gist of the song, I couldn’t resist writing a Swedish version. Varthän? Varthän ska jag nu åka? Jag vill bara tillbaka, Vart jag nu kom ifrån?

När då? När är nu nuförtiden? Nu, igår, övermorgon? Klockan visar helt fel

I vår rymdtid jag åker runt Och skalan är fel När jag kastas till nå’t nytt The song uses a slightly changed melodic structure of Lloyd Webber’s “Memory”, borrowed from a Swedish-language drinking song popular in Finland. Later that afternoon, we were visited by Therese’s brother, his wife, and Hulda’s oldest and newest cousins; being 17 years and one month old, respectively.

Wednesday 18 July It was the birthday of Kristin Thorrud, a Norwegian fan turned Swedish fan. I ﬁnally work out how to translate my fannish birthday song to Norwegian; it had already been translated to English and Danish. Drømmer om rommet, fanac så skjønn fanac så skjønn, fanac så skjønn oppå stensilen til Roscoe en bønn idag er det fandoms fødselsdag!

Fandom bær håpet om egoboo, om egoboo, om egoboo trufans ﬁnner hos Roscoe et bo i dag er det fandoms fødselsdag!

Fandom blir glad av løfter om øhl løfter om øhl, løfter om øhl det bringer trufans oppå rett kjøl idag er det fandoms fødselsdag!

Thursday 19 July On the way past the Kalix river my father-in-law had mentioned the bifurcation of the Tärendö river and the way it joined the Kalix river as something to see, so we did what is arguably the most Norrland thing ever: drive in excess of 400 kilometers in a day just to have a cup of coffee with a friend. Just after leaving home, my father-in-law noted that he had forgotten to bring one of the charging cables for the Tesla, but still he decided to push on. We had an expensive but wonderful lunch at Jockfall after crossing the Arctic Circle, and then continued on towards Tärendö. My father-in-law got the idea of using his drone- carried ground-penetrating radar—only one in the world!—to study the rapids, but then realised that Storforsen was both closer and a much larger object to study. JockFall. Photo by Therese Norén. In Tärendö we visited an old friend of my in-laws and had a cup of coffee with him while we chatted about the village and his buildings. Then we drove the short distance to the island of Tärendöholmen, where the Tärendö river splits in two and joins the Kalix river. My father-in-law had heard descriptions of the water flowing in different directions around the island, but it appeared to not really be the case. But it was pretty. Except in the toilet on the island: it included not only doodled gossip about people falling in love but an excess of neo-nazi references. Tärendö was a stronghold for Swedish nazis before and during the war, and apparently far-right groups are still active there. Of course, you can find far-right doodles all over Sweden. The drive back required planning and care. We had first thought we could drive to Haparanda and charge the Tesla there, but it turned out to be longer to Haparanda from Tärendö than driving back directly to Boden. Instead we drove carefully back towards Boden in a trip totaling 430 kilometers by the end. We still had 50 kilometers of charge left when we came home, but it was the longest drive on a single charge my father-in-law had made since he bought the Tesla.

Saturday 21 July Fen are sparse in the north, but I had earlier been in touch with a guy who had a used book store in Luleå and had an interest in sf and fantasy. It was worth a visit, and we had planned a trip to Luleå in any case. The used book store turned out to be in the throes of a major reorganisation, but Thorbjörn Wikström was happy to see us nevertheless, especially after he realised that we were fellow fen. Therese found some books on local history and medicine, and Hulda a Supergirl comicbook. Meanwhile, we talked fanzine culture, cons, and various people within Swedish fandom. He was also very happy to hear about Jesper Stage, another fan who lives in Luleå. We also visited the southern harbour of Luleå, where Hulda and I could admire three of Sweden’s largest icebreakers from afar; the largest, Oden, was probably away on a research mission. On the way back, we take the cable-driven ferry at the Avan river crossing. Buses, boats, trains, trams, cars, and cable transport done.

Sunday 22 July Another tourist drive, this time to Storforsen, the largest waterfall in Sweden. The restaurant by the rapids serves palt, the traditional dish of Norrbotten, and even with the low ﬂow of water due to little snow in the mountains this winter and little or no rain during the entire summer, the rapids and the nature around them are impressive. The sound is also impressive, a deep roar that carries far. Right by the rapids I measured the noise on my phone. It reaches 86 dB, but since all of it is in the lower registers, one can still talk there without shouting. With good hearing and some effort. On the way back we drive an inland route, and see the thick smoke from one of the forest ﬁres around Jokkmokk.

Tuesday 24 July We had first planned to do a full tour around the Gulf of Bothnia, starting in Stockholm, going by train from Turku to Kemi, and then take the night train from Boden back home. Sadly, major infrastructure upgrades and maintenance on the two tracks southwards from Stockholm meant that all southbound trains from Stockholm Central Station were cancelled this summer, forcing us to make oodles of changes if we wanted to take the train all the way back home. Instead we flew from Kallax to Arlanda. We could see the smoke from at least one forest fire, despite the clouds, as we flew south. After landing, where our luggage arrived first on the baggage track—literally a first for us—we took the commuter train from Arlanda to Stockholm Södra and had a late lunch or early dinner at a restaurant and bar right outside the station. The rest of the trip south went off without a hitch, though we came home quite late. Buses, boats, trains, trams, cars, cable transport, and aircraft done. The Fandom of Swedish Filk

Friends over all Universe should with each other discuss; we shall together have fun under the rays of the sun. Come to us, join us today, fandom is happy and gay, fandom will live through the years, all of the future is hers. I have earlier written an attempt to describe the history of music within Swedish sf fandom, and there I noted that one strong theme within Swedish filk has been fannish songs, that is songs about fandom, fan history, and individual fen; this theme is also very strong from an international perspective. More than 30% of the Swedish filk songs that I have documented are about fandom in some way; that does not include my own songs, which have an even higher percentage. You can of course find songs about fandom—and plenty of them—in international filkdom, but they are relatively much more plentiful among Swedish filk songs, and also sung a lot more; my limited recordings of old Swedish filk are dominated by them, as well as the traces I have of old singalongs. Looking closer at the Swedish songs about fandom, I noticed another trend within this trend: these songs are looking at fandom with a critical eye; they are not songs that sings uncritical accolades about fandom. We have songs that tell about feuds, about the labour required to remain in fandom, at times also about how one should act as a fan within fandom, with examples of both nice and not so nice behaviour. This is something which I haven’t seen much in international filk, despite it being quantitatively much larger. Instead, the songs about fandom that I've seen in international filk are much more likely to be similar to “Fandom Song” by Ingvar Svensson that I opened the article with: uncritical songs to fandom, where its main fault is that it wasn't found earlier. Examples are songs like “Sam’s Song”, “Ain’t Gafiatin’”, or “Weekend Only World”. Likewise, the songs about disastrous cons aren't telling stories where it was the fen who caused the disasters, but rather how the heroic and cunning fen managed to keep fandom going despite upheavals or interference from the mundanes. I should also mention that filking has never been a big piece of Swedish fanac, nor has it ever been independent of sf fandom at large. The high point of Swedish filking was during the 80’s (in Swedish fannish loosely defined as 1978 to 1992), when Swedish fandom was hyperactive and mainly concerned about printing fanzines about fandom itself. So lets take a look at how fandom is portrayed in some selected Swedish filk songs. As most of the songs here are going to be Swedish originals, I’m doing simple summarys in English of these songs, after which I will comment on the songs. Forums egen brevskrivarevisa This song was first published in the Swedish fanzine Science Fiction Forum #50 in 1971. I guess was written as filler material by the editors; Forum was generally very serconnish in nature. The narrator writes a letter to Forum with insults about the zine. The first of the pair of editors is nice, but currently has no time for fanac. The second editor is not so nice and insults right back, after which a fan feud evolves. In the end, the ishes of Forum are preserved in the Swedish national library, where it’s possible to read what was written in a hundred years’ time. While definitely intended to be humorous (the melody and some of the word choices indicate that), the song does point out the presence of fan feuds and that they can be destructive in nature. Fandom is presented as being feuding all the time.

Pappersframmatningen är trasig Probably the most classic Swedish filk song of all time, it was written by David Nessle in the late 1970s, and later recorded by Erik Andersson. It is a first-person lament of a fan over the broken paper feed in their mimeograph, that makes little balls out of the papers. As a result of this, the fanzine will be delayed, and that will cause the subscribers to become angry and send hate mail to the faned. The poor faned is so depressed over the broken down paper feed and the future hate mail that he decides to gafiate. On one level, the song shows the effort needed by an individual fan to keep in touch with fandom, but it also presents fandom as an unforgiving place. If the faned cannot keep up the standards, as determined by the other fen and subscribers, then he will face censure that’s so bad that the faned decides to gafiate at the mere threat of it. There is no option given of reaching out to other fen for help or assistance.

Fans dom är väl knäppa This song was written by Bertil Mårtensson, probably around 1980 or a little earlier. Mårtensson was a veteran fan, and together with John-Henri Holmberg and Mats Linder he formed one of the most influential fan groups in the late 60s and early 70s. Among all the songs I have collected, this is probably the most bitter and negative one towards fandom, or at least how he perceived the path fandom was on at the time. It is included in Mårtensson's cassette fanzine Ogres kurs i fandom—“Ogre’s course on fandom”, ”Ogre” being the title of one of his fanzines. First verse says fans are lunatics in publishing mimeographed fanzines, and that none of them believes in space or engineering, but consider fandom itself to be swell and nice. Second verse says the fanzines they make lack any content, but that the fen bring them to the bathroom. Third verse says sercon activities are worthless, and that science fiction might be good, but that fandom primarily is a way of life and for trash talking. A neo who dares to publish a oneshot gets cut down and killed by the LoCs. But anyone who is persistent in publishing fannish nonsense will be accepted and celebrated. Likewise, the cons are likely to be boring or can cause the fan to become infantile. It ends with a statement that “we of the old guard” thought themselves superior, but that all or most of them now have gafiated for various reasons. While I believe the song is made with more than a little tongue in cheek, it very much reads as an old fan looking at a younger generation of fen, and not liking what they do. For all that I myself try to keep an open mind for new forms of fanac, knowing what I know about Swedish fandom of the time, I also have a very hard time blaming Mårtensson for feeling the way he did, and in fact agree with his implied thesis that a fandom which does not concern itself with science fiction or serconnish activities has lost its way. That still doesn’t stop the song from oozing bitterness.

Brev ifrån Andersson This song was I believe written by Jan Risheden, probably in the mid 80’s—the recording I have is from 1988—and it is sung by a duet between neofan Jan Risheden and BNF Erik Andersson. The first verse describes how happy Risheden is to receive a letter from Andersson and his admiration for Andersson’s skill as a faned. It concludes with expressing a wish to become Andersson's fannish pupil. The second verse has Andersson accepting by giving Risheden a fanzine with the admonition to read and study it, but also a promise that fandom soon will belong to Risheden, and that Andersson will support him, even if Risheden’s creations are not up to par yet, using a reference to a dirty typewriter roller. The third verse has Risheden asking for a contribution to his first fanzine, even if he is unworthy in his own mind. In the fourth verse Andersson promises to send over the contribution real soon now, and also encourages Risheden to finish the fanzine, print it using whatever means it at hand. The song ends with triumph: Risheden is now a faned too. What Risheden and Andersson paint here is a strong positive example on how to behave as an experienced fan: reach out to neos, help them get started, and don’t put demands and constraints on how they are to create fanzines. While it has an element that fandom is something that one needs to learn and adapt to, it’s also making clear that old fen should help neos and reach out to them in the first place. This is one of my favourite filk songs from Swedish fandom, just because it provides such a positive example on how to behave and act as a fan. Here fandom is a great and wondrous thing, but it is great and wondrous thing because we fen act to make it so.

Fanny sa This song was probably written in 1987 by Johan Frick and Jan Risheden. It describes a fan who is starting to tire of fandom, because of the time it takes up and the amount of quarrels and feuding within fandom. At the same time, the fan longs back with longing to their old sense of wonder, and still want to hear what continues to happen with the remaining fen. Thus, they want to subscribe so they won’t have to write LoCs, and read the fanzines they still receive unless they’re too thick. The song concludes with that the fan realises that they have gaﬁated. This is another song that describes feuding as something that goes on in fandom more or less continously. It also takes the position that fandom is something that requires more or less continuous engagement. It is also deeply nostalgic: fandom was perceived as great before, but that it no longer is so. I don't think it is any coincidence that the recording I have is from 1988, because in 1987 Swedish fandom experienced one of its worst fan feuds, and feuding—either mock or real— had been a way of doing fanac through most of the 80’s. The late 80’s of Swedish fandom also saw a high amount of gaﬁating, partially because of the feuds but likely also because the period of circa 1976 to 1982 had been a period of high fannish recruitment.

Den mimeografiska balladen This song was written by Ahrvid Engholm, using his fannish-poetical alias of Comet-Johan Bensin jr. I don’t know exactly when it was written, but I believe it was done in the mid or late 90’s. The first verse describes how expensive it is to publish a fanzine, and mentions that despite hoping for some form of accolades for the fanzine, the fannish recipients are described as ungrateful. Second verse gives the alternative of telefaxing or e-mailing fanzines, but the faned still continues to prepare his mimeograph. Third verse describes the costs of mailing the fanzine, and the trouble of finding a place where to mail it from. But it also has a call to think of the joy of fanzines rather than on the Internet. Fourth verse has the faned standing alone with no response from fandom, but the faned can still feel the joy and pride in publishing a fanzine, and continues to turn the crank on the mimeograph. This song is based on “Den sjuttonde balladen” by Evert Taube, which describes his ambivalent feelings about entertaining drunken parties with little appreciation for his songs and music, but still ends with a declaration of Taube’s love for music and poetry. Ahrvid was at this time a rather marginalised figure in a Swedish fandom that was still badly fractured. It also was a period of decline in the number of published fanzines, though the final shift from fanzine to con fandom was still a few years away. It does describe fandom as something that requires lots of efforts to keep going and which can be ungrateful, but still holds up fanzine publishing and fannish writings as something worth doing for its own sake.

Goodbye Old Fanac Written by Wolf von Witting in 1998, and as it in English I can refer you to Clockwise 2014, available on eFanzines.com, for the entire lyrics. The song describes the way photocopiers are replacing the old printing methods and how e-fanzines are becoming more common since they can be distributed faster and cheaper. It advises fandom to keep up with the development, but also be careful so it doesn’t end up as virtual conventions. Wolf von Witting is atypical among Swedish filkers. He first started writing filk during a low point of Swedish filking and he primarily wrote in English using British and Irish folk melodies and some classic rock. He also wrote relatively few songs about fandom, despite having by far the greatest output of filk songs of any Swedish fan I know of—I know of over 70 filk songs by him, around double that of anyone else I know of. Instead, his songs were primarily about media franchises and on various science fiction themes. He was also far more popular as a filker in Germany than he was in Sweden. This song is interesting because it manages to combine both nostalgia for the old and a call for keeping up with digital forms of fandom, while still being aware that a digital fandom cannot replace everything of the old fannish practices.

Högtravande hymn till fandom The last song I want to cover was written for the 2003 Swecon in Uppsala. It is an over-the- top anthem to fandom, as evidenced by its title “Bombastic Hymn to Fandom” and by being set to the tune of the Interntionale. It’s a call for the fen of Nordic countries to gather for a con and escape Mundania. They will form a big union—something which was a big concern for Swedish fandom of the 1950s and has been shunned ever since—and let the fannish evangelium be heard. The chorus calls the fen to be the fannish brigades with common goals, and that Roscoe’s loyal cadre now calls for a toast to fandom. Second verse sees us being alone and saying farewell, facing our mortality. But we refuse to give up and we know that eternity belongs to us, because we have read that in our skiffy. As mentioned in the introduction, this is an bombastic and over the top hymn to fandom, and really cannot be sung without some irony.

Discussion This is of course only a small selection of the Swedish filk songs I have managed to document. But with a single exception, every Swedish filk writer with a body of work that I know of has written at least one song relating to fans, fan history, or fandom, and often such songs have made up a significant part of their oeuvre. The exception is Sam J. Lundwall, who wrote songs on science fiction or fantasy themes besides mundane topics. My impression of Lundwall is however that he had a decidedly sercon view of fandom, where he thought its main purpose was to act as a forum for discussing, analysing, and promoting science fiction, and not as a social community. What is clear, however, is that almost every Swedish fan who have written more than a handful of filks have written songs about fandom, and that these songs often describe the fannish life as something that requires effort, not only because of the pressure from Mundania, but because of issues arising within fandom. Gafia, seldom a topic in international filk, is a common danger in Swedish fannish songs. Feuds and apathy within fandom are as much a danger as Mundania. The conclusion I draw is that the approach to fandom in Swedish filk are indeed fundamentally dissimilar to the one found in American and other international filk, as I had touched on in my history of Swedish filk. Swedish filk is different not only due to the relative quantity of songs about fandom; the character of the fandom songs is different as well. Part of it might be because Swedish filk has never had a proper filk subculture: generally speaking the Swedish filkers have been found among the most active general fen, but it might also be because of the influence from the Swedish ballad tradition: Bellman, Taube, Vreeswijk, et c. There is a strong tradition of singing songs of friendship and community here, while not shying away from social commentary or the darker side of communities or friendship. Whatever the reason, Swedish filk songs about fandom tends to give a very frank and sometimes critical view of fandom. It is certainly usually viewed in a positive light, but at the same time it's clear that making fandom work takes actual work, and that fandom in no way is a fun happy family all the time. It also contains quarrels, fan feuds, and gafiating. This is a view of fandom that does not come forth in international filk. I'd like to thank the members of “F Is for Filkers” on Facebook for their help in finding American filk songs about Fandom. Editorial Notes

I stället för papper is published with irregular intervals by Karl-Johan Norén. All texts are by him if nothing else is noted. Omslagsillon uteblev denna gång, eftersom jag inte hittade något roligt och det blockerade mig från att skicka ut numret tidigare. The fanzine is received in exchange for The Usual, i.e. other fanzines, comments, opinions, LoCs, illos, fillos, texts of every kind, and encouraging shouts, that can be sent to me using e-mail . I will happily publish articles and other longer texts that fit within the spirit of the fanzine, but please contact me first. But the editor will probably become happiest from things that arrive by snailmail.

Karl-Johan Norén Sjöåkravägen 40C 564 31 Bankeryd Sweden

This fanzine can be freely distributed in unchanged form. It is also explicitly allowed to transform the fanzine to other formats (e.g. by printing it), and distribute these copies. Special NoFF report issue 3 Buses, Boats, Trains, Trams, Cars, Cables, and Aircraft 4 Monday 9 July 4 Tuesday 10 July 5 Wednesday 11 July 6 Thursday 12 July 8 Friday 13 July 8 Saturday 14 July 10 Sunday 15 July 17 Monday 16 July 21 Tuesday 17 July 22 Wednesday 18 July 23 Thursday 19 July 23 Saturday 21 July 24 Sunday 22 July 25 Tuesday 24 July 25 The Fandom of Swedish Filk 26 Forums egen brevskrivarevisa 27 Pappersframmatningen är trasig 27 Fans dom är väl knäppa 27 Brev ifrån Andersson 28 Fanny sa 28 Den mimeograﬁska balladen 29 Goodbye Old Fanac 29 Högtravande hymn till fandom 30 Discussion 30 Editorial Notes 32