(Kruusement 1969) Kevade

Oskar Luts (1887–1953) seems to per­form the same func­tion in Eston­ian lit­er­a­ture that W.O. Mitchell does for Cana­da. His sequence of nov­els describ­ing the lives of school chil­dren in the 1890’s, and car­ry­ing their sto­ries for­ward into mid­dle age, are loved in his home­land. These were writ­ten short­ly before World War One. All three of the nov­els were filmed: Kevade [Spring] (1969); Suvi [Sum­mer] (1976); Sügis [Fall] (1991). All were direct­ed by Arvo Kru­use­ment, with some of the same actors appear­ing in the lot, notably Aare Laanemets as the ras­cal­ly Joosep Toots. I have all three, but I’ve only found Eng­lish sub­ti­tles for Kevade.

Kevade doesn’t have much plot. Schoolkids pull pranks, tell lies that get them into trou­ble, have pup­py love, and get into fights with the kids in the neigh­bour­ing Ger­man parish school. At the time in ques­tion, there was no Esto­nia. The events take place in the Gov­er­norate of Livo­nia [Liivi­maa kuber­mang], a semi-autonomous seg­ment of the Russ­ian Empire still admin­is­tered semi-feu­dal­ly by its ancient Ger­man-speak­ing nobil­i­ty. Its ter­ri­to­ry cov­ered half of what is now Esto­nia and half of what is now Latvia. There was a sep­a­rate Livon­ian lan­guage, relat­ed to, but quite dif­fer­ent from Eston­ian, spo­ken in part of the Gorver­norate, which is now essen­tial­ly extinct (there are only 20 flu­ent speak­ers). How­ev­er, the sto­ry of Kevade is set in an area near Tallinn where Eston­ian was spo­ken. The kids are required to learn some Russ­ian in school, and buy things with rubles, but there doesn’t seem to be any sig­nif­i­cant Russ­ian pres­ence or cul­tur­al influ­ence. The kids read adven­ture sto­ries about Amer­i­can cow­boys and Indi­ans, and the state of Ken­tucky (!) is con­stant­ly men­tioned. The land­scape looks eeri­ly like East­ern Ontario ― a gen­tly rolling coun­try­side in which farm­land is bro­ken up by sin­u­ous creeks and large patch­es of mixed for­est. The tree species are sim­i­lar. The coun­try school, farm­hous­es and 19th cen­tu­ry fix­tures could as eas­i­ly be in rur­al Cana­da of the same era, though the sauna would only be found in North­west­ern Ontario. The fan­cy Ger­man school, how­ev­er, looks entire­ly Euro­pean. The only thing that seems odd is the dom­i­nant hair colour. You don’t usu­al­ly find a school­room in Cana­da in which three quar­ters of the stu­dents are plat­inum or flax­en blondes, with a few brunettes thrown in.

The usu­al Eston­ian tropes appear in the sto­ry: a mys­ti­cal aura around trees, and the theme of redemp­tion through music. But most­ly, it’s just a set of com­ic episodes about mis­fired pranks. Valeri Blinov’s cin­e­matog­ra­phy is crisp, sharply focused, and gives the film most of its strength. The young actors are believ­able. One gets the impres­sion that the Eston­ian-lan­guage schools could not hold to the rigid Pruss­ian dis­ci­pline that, no doubt, held sway in the Ger­man schools. The teach­ers are por­trayed sym­pa­thet­i­cal­ly. This is no angry exposé of child­hood mis­ery and adult hypocrisy, though the sto­ry does touch slight­ly on injus­tice and death. It’s more along the lines of Ralph Connor’s Glen­gar­ry School­days, Edward Eggleston’s The Hoosier School­mas­ter, or W.O. Mitchell’s Who Has Seen The Wind. This is an hon­ourable tra­di­tion in both lit­er­a­ture and film, and Kruusement’s cin­e­mat­ic treat­ment of the sto­ry is a respectable con­tri­bu­tion. It has nos­tal­gia and sen­ti­ment, but it isn’t maudlin.

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