My estophilia was consciously awakened by Jaan Kross: Keisri hull in its Finnish translation was such a text, such a call for defiance, for justice. But also the culture of my childhood, the memories of the Awakened (heränneet) of their recent estophile past was surely in the background too. There were books that I had glanced at or even partially read, things that I had heard, felt: Estonia was a place, a certain absence. But Jaan Kross made it concrete, then just bit later on JMKE, Rahvarinne, that exhilating sense of liberation, not only of Estonia, but also of Finland. And other, more personal things followed. Estonia is now both well known and still well loved, warts and all.
