That it was awesome.
This is the first Finncon in some years, apparently, that hasn't been twinned with the Anime Convention, which meant that it was smaller and more SF-oriented than the glorious scrum of costumed teenagers and skiffy fans that George R.R. Martin described to me when I told him where I'd be going the week after his Clarion week. Which was just as well, since the venue--a serene Alvar Aalto brick classroom building on the University of Jyvaskyla campus--could barely contain the 800 or so SF & F fans as it was. The multi-track programming took place in stadium-style classrooms. It was a little intimidating at first, sitting at the focal point of tiers of intent faces, but I relaxed a lot when they laughed at my jokes. Kati Clements (our endlessly patient Guest Liason) interviewed Ellen and me about Fantasy of Manners on Saturday, and I did a panel on Urban Fantasy yesterday, with two Swedish fans and Marianna Leikomaa, with whom we will be visiting the Moomin museum tomorrow. Ellen worked lots harder--she sang and talked about the Anglo-Scots ballads that went into the writing of Thomas the Rhymer for her GOH speech, made grown men cry reading "The Man With The Knives," talked about the problems of translation with her Finnish translator Johanna Vainikainen at her coffeeklatch, and had a fascinating conversation about dreams and writing and inspiration and craft with Pat Cadigan and Cheryl Morgan at the GOH panel on Dreaming Reality.
The panels were great--interested audiences, good questions, good topics, approached from fresh angles (the concepts of MannerPunk and Urban Fantasy aren't as familiar in Europe as they are in the US). But the real joy of Finncon was--The Parties!
I include the Masquerade in the parties, since everybody was having such a good time--and didn't get the prizes until the traditional evening party. The quality of the costumes was high, and the content was a mixture of media (a Farscape group, two Star Wars pairs, with light-sabres and cool choreography, Aphrodite from Xena, a heroic spaceman and his Betty-Page-like bimbo from a 40's SF movie whose title I've forgotten, Magenta from Rocky Horror), comics (a kind of angry hive-queen from an indy comic, wearing purple and a giant bad attitude), plus a pair of extensively temporary-tattooed Mexican Wrestlers, and an Evil guy in a black chausable-like affair appliqued with huge red hands. We loved the literary offerings the best, though: an elf warrior in the most beautifully rendered brass and leather armor I've ever seen, and (the piece de resistance--for Ellen, anyway), Thomas the Rhymer (with a leetle, tiny plastic harp), Elspeth (in green with yards of green ribbon) and Meg (in a little lappet cap and homespun).
The Guests had to judge this feast of plenty, which we did over a Lucullan (or perhas Leifian) feast at a Viking-theme restaurant called Harald's, where we all repaired after the Masquerade to drink Tar Liquor (made of pine-pitch, and tasting rather like alcoholic Moxie), eat red deer, wild boar, smoked fish, and wild mushroom soup, and figure out who got which silly prize. The discussion (and the prizes) got sillier as the evening progressed, culminating in Cheryl's brilliantly funny presentation at the party afterwards, where we were all flown with beer (smoked, tar, and ordinary) and heat. Have I mentioned that Finland is in the middle of the longest and hottest heat wave since 1904? And that Finnish buildings are designed to maximize passive solar and minimize heat-loss? I was concerned about the Mexican wrestlers, mostly--although the Elf warrior looked pretty uncomfortable, too.
The rest of the evening (and I do mean evening--the sun did go down, but it never actually got dark) was dedicated to song and conversation. Filkers filked--a song for each of the GOHs (you can read the lyrics to ellen_kushner 's), in the appropriate language, yet. And then we all went out on the terrace (where there was air) and talked and talked and talked about folklore and fandom and Finnish history and John Adams and what you learn in school and what there is to see in Tulku and Moomins and Tove Janesson's adult fiction and Angela Carter and narrative theory and Finnish witches and shamanism and folk music and living in Princeton, NJ and how accurate the University Life bits are in FOTK and a few other subjects I've forgotten. And the mosquitoes feasted on our ankles and the sky darkened to cobalt and stayed there, while time seemed to stop.
It didn't, though. At 2:00am, a lot of people had gone home and our conversations were beginning to slow, so we gathered our traps and wandered back towards the hotel, stopping off at a stone mentioned in the Kalevala, where Ellen and Johanna sang "Maids, When You're Young, Never Wed an Old Man" (typical of Finncon, somehow, that a tolerably obscure naughty British folk song should be the one they both knew all the words to). And then we toddled off to bed, not nearly as tired as we should have been, given the hour.
And now we have a train to catch and I've got to pack my computer away, so I'll post this and try and catch up with the rest of the con on the train to Tempere.
To be continued. . .