The majority of what I know about Sweden, where my brother has lived for decades, I know from the movies.
Most recently, Midsommar, a 2019 horror movie, that traced the story of a US couple who visit Sweden to see a friend's hometown for its midsummer festival, getting mixed up in the annual death ritual by members of a pagan cult. A subtext of the story is the conformity of the culture that leads followers to fall prey to the cult’s deeds.
The film picks up themes from Together, a 2000 comedy set in a Stockholm commune in 1975; with debates about public nudity in common areas and collective manners, it offers a satirical stand up on socialist values and culture.
The comedy is a refreshing alternative to the Berman movies we grew up on. Of course, the Seventh Seal is one of the greatest films of all time. Between chess bouts with death, looking at the Baltic Sea, Max Von Sydow leaves us with a glimpse of the Swedish soul:
“I want to confess as best I can, but my heart is void. The void is a mirror. I see my face and feel loathing and horror. My indifference to men has shut me out. I live now in a world of ghosts, a prisoner in my dreams.”
I think a lot of us do in Sweden.
You hear a lot about depression here.
From what I understand, the cold and darkness wears on the most cheerful Nordic souls.
For years, the country maintained its neutrality.
With Russia encroaching, setting eyes on Swedish islands, that may be changing, historic ties to NATO strengthening.
Arriving in Stockholm, I grab a train to the central train station.
My brother Will meets me.
It's his birthday.
I haven't been here in a decade.
This will be my longest trip here.
There’s lots to celebrate.
We walk all day, all weekend.
Through Gamla Stan we cruise on the train, looking at the old city that wasn’t bulldozed when developers wanted more parking lots in the 1970’s.
Drop bags off in Södermalm, an island in central Stockholm, where he’s lived for a quarter century.
I’ve only been three times. I know I’m due a trip.
We make our way into the city, walking through Cafeteria Shaka Gord, a lush church square, site of the Stockholm Blood Bath of November 10, 1520, bodies burned in the square.
Will has lots of stories, as we explore his city of islands, showing me a few watering holes.
Our favorite is Zum Fraziskener, “one of the oldest restaurants in Stockholm. It has a distinct Swedish and German” feel, serving up herring, schnapps and beer, along the waterfront. The bartender serves me a Landsort Lager.
We hike them all weekend long, looking at the ships on the waterfront, the ports, and houseboats.
It's a wonderful place, but there’s not enough vice, says Will, looking at the water.
Truer words were never said.
One of his former students works at the restaurant where we lunch, chatting with us in between pints.
Saturday, we hike through Djurgården, another wonderful island in central Stockholm, taking in the historic buildings, another 21 K, chatting as the famous summer cold grasps us, rain pouring down.
It's another 25 K on Sunday, as we traverse from Knivsta to Aliske Kyre, the site of a pagan temple and a secluded 12th century church, where I light a candle for Tim on his journey, through the most wondrous woods, onto a lake, a magic domain, light shining, sparkling on the water, on our way to Uppsala, a university town, where we grab a train home.
Back in town, we make a wonderful coq au vin, catching up with Will’s teenagers, now working, running about, growing up. Bijorn has the shittiest of shitty summer jobs, he’s able to laugh about. Sophia is a serious teenager with a cute Spanish boyfriend. And Bruce, their youngest, has a wondrous Quixotic imagination. The little one is getting ready to hike all summer along with the family.
All week we chat about the Ukraine conflict, which has inspired Sweden and Finland to request formal membership in NATO. Turkey is the sole country blocking their entry.
The Finnish fought a Soviet Invasion during World War II.
They are ready to do so again.
By Friday, American aircraft carriers arrive with shows of solidiary.
The days of neutrality may be behind for Sweden and Finland.
After all, you can’t be neutral on a moving train.
It's a conversation we explore all week long.
Next stop Brussels.
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