There’s also Lesser Wrath and Greater Wrath which while not exactly in living memory are still told (horror) stories about. Not to mention the years of oppression just before WWI. Swedes were never that bad and you’ll have to go back all the way to the 16th century Cudgel War for armed conflict.
This is wrong at least for Finnish - “he” and “she” are both “hän” but “it” is “se”. Though in spoken language we often use “se” for people as well.
An oddity connected with the above, which I found diverting when I happened upon it. If I have things rightly, the Swedish-first-language 5% above are referred to as the equivalent, in the languages concerned, of “Swedish Finns”; while the ethnically Finnish 95% are “Finn Finns”.
The oddity is to do with sailing-ship history / experience – a topic in which I have a slight interest, but in which a relative of mine is passionately interested, and on which he owns a considerable library. The world’s last significant fleet of large sailing ships in commercial cargo service, was that owned by Gustav Ericsson, which continued in traffic until shortly after World War II. Ericsson’s base was in the Aland Islands – midway between Sweden and Finland, Finnish territory overwhelmingly populated by Swedish Finns. At any rate from the 1920s onwards, the largest single group manning his ships were Swedish Finns; with a few Finn Finns, and a sprinkling of guys from many other European countries.
Between the world wars, some young British sailing-ship enthusiasts signed on as crew members of Ericsson ships, just to for what was becoming the vanishingly rare experience of taking part in the operation of a large “sailer”. Some subsequently published their impressions of the voyages – my relative has a number of such books. Reading through them, a little amusement is occasioned by the Brit authors trying to make sense of the, to them new and arcane, distinction between the two kinds of Finn. They often seem to refer to the Finn Finns, as “Russian Finns”. With Finland then having only recently emerged from a long and not overly happy period of Russian rule – I see the people thus described, not taking kindly to the description, if they were ever aware of it.
In Swedish, the “Swedish Finns” - as you call them - are called “finlandssvenskar,” literally meaning “Finland Swedes.” I have also heard them described with the Swedish term “bättre folk,” which means “better people,” but only in Finland and never in Sweden. I can never tell if the term is used with arrogant pride by the “Finland Swedes” themselves, or as a derogatory term, dripping with sarcasm, by the “Finnish Finns.”
As for the Finnish Finns, in Swedish they are simply known as “finnar,” meaning… Finns.
(That same word, “finnar,” is also the plural form of “acne,” but that’s a story for another day…)
My impression (a simplistic, outsider’s impression) is that the Swedish-speaking Finns are perceived as a privileged group, somewhat rarefied and “proper”.
One anecdote (make of it what you will): I was passing a little paddock set up with jumps for ponies, and a Finnish companion said, completely deadpan: “That is where Finland Swedes ride on the back of Finns and make us jump over fences for their sport”.
> All of the so-called Ural-Altaic languages seem to eschew grammatical gender–not
> only not assigning masculine or feminine gender to inanimate objects, but not
> even having separate words for “he,” “she,” and “it.”
I’m not sure what point you’re making here, but if it’s that you can clearly pick out the relationships of languages according to whether they have gender, it’s wrong. Gender sometimes disappears from a language over its history. Apparently it can also appear in a language. It’s not that useful for determining the relationship tree of a language family. It can sometimes be an areal feature:
Well, I know that. English, for example. It has no “masculine” or “feminine” nouns–I never did know why German “spoons” are masculine, French “water” is feminine, or Russian “Sunday” is neuter. But English would theoretically not be related to the other Germanic languages–all of which DO use gender that way. I would not claim that Chinese and Japanese are Ural-Altaic languages just because they don’t use grammatical gender either. But it was the trait of vowel harmony that seemed to be another clue…
Nobody ever claimed that Chinese is in the hypothetical Ural-Altaic family. It’s in the Sino-Tibetan family. Or, to be exact, the various Chinese languages constitute one branch of the Sino-Tibetan family:
Neither Japanese nor Korean are in either the Uralic or the Altaic families as generally accepted today (although there’s some argument whether even the Altaic languages constitute a single family). That’s how tenuous the Ural-Altaic hypothesis is now considered to be. The various languages that were supposedly in it are now spread over at least four generally accepted families - Uralic, Altaic, Japonic, and Korean - or maybe six families, if you consider Altaic to actually be split into Turkic, Tungusic, and Mongolic:
Hope it’s OK if I carry on using my expressions “Swedish Finns” / “Finn Finns” (which I find convenient to keep them straight for me).
Having in mind that generalisations are over-simplified and never fully accurate – the views which the British sailing guys “way back when”, whom I mentioned, tended to take: they liked the Swedish Finns, who as mentioned, predominated on the ships concerned. Saw them as close to the “English ideal”: quiet, unassuming, steady and reliable folk. The Finn Finns – they were apt to find them rather wild and dramatic types, and didn’t quite know what to make of them.
Seamen-- always extremely superstitious folks – have long had a “thing” about their Finnish colleagues; considering many of them anyhow, to have occult powers, and possibly to be in league with the Devil: with, inter alia, the ability to “whistle up” a wind blowing in the required direction, for good or evil purposes. The Finns were thus both deferred to, and regarded with uneasiness and suspicion. I gather that it is the “Finn” type of Finnish seamen, of whom this stuff was believed – not their Swedish-Finn counterparts.
I have friends who are Swedish Finns. Only after several years of knowing them did they actually explain their family was from Finland, not Sweden. And boy, did they like talking about being Swedish, so this wasn’t just something that wouldn’t have normally come up. For them, I got the impression that being ethnically Swedish was waaaaaaay more important than being from Finland.
Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll consider it. I’ve begun translating the *Kalevala *into my conlang; the metrical stresses are similar to Finnish and track quite well with the original.
Mieleni minun tekevi, aivoni ajattelevi
Meni örö kitetelwe, meni awïta bodulwa
My mind taking action, my brain thinking,
lähteäni laulamahan, saa’ani sanelemahan,
calolyam mü dolukadhï, kabayam mü pöjekedhi,
I set forth into singing, I get into speaking,
sukuvirttä suoltamahan, lajivirttä laulamahan.
shayar bertin furatkadhï, veylü bertin dolukadhï.
into letting flow the hymn of my family, into singing the hymn of my kind.
The stress goes on the first syllable of each word, which sets up the trochaic meter.
This old chestnut, Finns have various views on this and will consider themselves part of Scandinavia when it suits but they are very much at pains to point out they are not to be tarnished with the Swedish brush.
Russian we are not,
Swedish we will never be,
We are Finns!
Here in Sweden you very rarely hear the word Scandinavia/Skandinavien. In everyday speech the word “Norden” (literally: “The North” but really “The Nordics”) is used.
Personally I find “Scandinavia” to be a vague purely geographical term that is fraught with danger, much like “The British Isles”, and tend to avoid it.