Jylhänmäkeläiset

Set in a Finnish countryside just after the war, the novel opens in the Hohoja manor where the youngest son, Pekka, begins to act in ways no one can understand. He drifts between muttering to himself, sudden fits of bitter laughter, and long, sleepless vigils in his cramped room, as though a hidden strain threatens his sanity. The villagers watch his decline with a mix of pity and suspicion, noting his strange habit of disappearing at night and returning with no explanation.

Compelled by an unspoken urge, Pekka abandons the familiar fields and heads toward the looming silhouette of the Kankaanpää estate, only to turn onto a secluded forest track that leads to the crumbling Jylhänmäki homestead. The landscape is described in vivid, almost theatrical detail, from cracked roofs to red‑painted walls left unfinished, mirroring the fractured state of his mind. As he stands before the ramshackle houses, a faint sense of both dread and curiosity pulls him deeper into a world where family expectations and personal darkness collide.