Issue 08
TROLLS
By Shawna Kenney
Once upon a time, there was a family who loved trolls. They loved them despite the Three Billy Goats Gruff fairytale about the mean, ugly troll, despite everything in their culture telling them the things were bad, despite people thinking they were silly, and even despite those messy-haired, mass-produced plastic toys that bore a striking resemblance to the young Olsen twins.
“Trolls were considered to be ugly, sometimes quite large, very grotesque-looking with a big nose, bulgy eyes, big ears, warts all over the place, and scraggly hair,” says Helena Kuuskoski, owner and founder of Fauni Trolls, a company that makes stuffed trolls of all shapes, sizes and interests. The sprightly 86-year-old Finnish immigrant decided long ago, “If there were bad trolls, there must be some friendly ones as well.” Back in her homeland during the 1950s, Kuuskoski supplemented her family’s income by making stuffed toys, until she accidentally made something “that definitely had to be a troll,” she says. She made more, giving them each personality traits and backstories to match their unique looks. With the help of daughter Minna and son Johannes, the family business expanded into Fauniland Trollforest, a troll theme park that became Finland’s third-largest tourist attraction, producing one million handcrafted trolls annually. By the early ‘70s, the Kuuskoskis were selling their trolls worldwide, granting licenses to companies for stickers, soft drinks, children’s clothing, dishes, refrigerators, rainwear, sleepwear, and even Kellogg’s cereal. Mr. Sumppi, a troll who “sometimes worries if he is too ugly to be a troll, or maybe not ugly enough,” according to the Fauni catalog, was licensed as the mascot for England’s TV Guide (the new owners changed his name to Tivvy).
Trolls have always “lived” in European folklore, often used to scare children into good behavior. In Norse mythology, the word troll can be used to label any otherworldly being, including, but not restricted to, the Norse giants. Popular troll comic strip The Moomins debuted in Scandinavia around the same time as Fauni Trolls. Edvard Grieg, often considered the most important Norwegian composer of the late 19th century, wrote several pieces on trolls. Even J.R.R. Tolkien’s world of Middle Earth houses 12-foot-tall, dim-witted versions. Norwegians claim trolls can be as big as mountains; Danish children leave treats out for them at Christmastime; and in Iceland, the Transportation Department has been known to reroute roads and bridges to avoid building on the homes of huldufolk (hidden folk) such as trolls and elves—which 90% of the population admits to believing are real. In a recent news story, Viktor A. Ingolfsson, a spokesman for the road agency, said, “When Native Americans protest roads being built over ancient burial grounds, the U.S. listens. It’s the same here. There are people who believe in elves and we don’t make fun of them. We try to deal with them.”
Trolls are unique, however, and not to be confused with other creatures of the underground. When speaking with Minna Kuuskoski, it’s important that you get your mythological mischief-makers straight. “Gnomes are thought of as ‘keepers’ or caretakers,” she explains very matter-of-factly. “Elves aren’t quite as big or robust as trolls, and elves would help people. Leprechauns could be capricious and do unexpected things, but that’s Irish. In Ireland they have a thing about fairies: before you cross a bridge you’re supposed to ask permission to cross, and when you get over you’re supposed to get out and thank them. There are stories of people who didn’t do that and their cars broke down on the bridge or they blew a tire.” Minna, who “grew up around trolls and various stages of their being made,” now runs a scaled-down version of the once booming business with her mother in coastal North Carolina. The Kuuskoskis left Finland in 1973 to avoid the socialist government’s excessive taxation. From there they moved to Canada, then won their green cards in a U.S. citizenship lottery in 1990. Though Canadians weren’t too fond of trolls, Minna says Americans have been less ambivalent than she’d expected. “Americans have a balanced view of trolls. They remember the bad stories, but they’re not close-minded.” Minna and her mother host children’s story-times each weekend and perform at libraries and regional storytelling festivals using the huge array of characters available in their shop (affectionately known as Trolldom).
Lituska the Guardian Troll is a popular seller online, as is Trumpet Nose, the leader of Trolldom and a poet who “didn’t want to be the leader but they told him he must be. He keeps his unfinished poems in his nose, where they simmer until they’re ready,” says Minna. There is also a Table of Important Decisions, where the trolls sit when they have to talk about difficult things. “It’s a magic table. They can find compromises and come up with solutions that work. But you will never find a Mudhat sitting there, because they want to argue and start fights,” she explains, referring to the nasty critters who live in the Mudswamp.
The family is constantly creating new characters, “but not deliberately,” Minna says. “I guess when they want to be found, they pop up.” And the names are not invented – they “just bubble up.”
The Kuuskoskis hope that Americans will one day embrace trolls as they have. Last year, they published their children’s book Cookie Machine, filled with Helena’s eye-popping illustrations. They’re starting a new line of children’s wear, and plan to offer traveling home parties. In true entrepreneurial spirit, Minna declares, “If Tupperware can do it, trolls can do it.” Ultimately, they’d like to build a theme park here, a place where people can “have a cup of coffee, a sandwich, and hang out with the trolls . . . see how they live, experience the troll way of life,” she adds. “We’re not deluding ourselves, but we’re on a mission. I am not able to say whether they’re really real or based on something that was real, but for us it’s fun.” She believes that people always have a need to be whimsical. She makes a reasonable case for some seemingly unreasonable subjects of obsession in our society (think Bigfoot, aliens, angels, and religion).
“It’s nice to believe that there’s something out there that we don’t quite understand. I don’t believe we need to know so much. Like finding a four-leaf clover can give me a lift – it’s just a piece of grass, but there’s no harm in it. You have to have respect for nature and our surroundings, and I think allocating meanings may make it easier to do so. We live in this corporate world where there isn’t much fairytale, but we like to think there’s all kinds of stuff that’s going on that we don’t know about.”
At the same time, Minna has no ill will toward the non-believers who walk among us. She shrugs and smiles pityingly. “It’s a free country.”
The End.