1 This is an Accepted Manuscript of an article published by Taylor & Francis in Word & Image on 19 Jan 2015, available online: doi.org/10.1080/02666286.2014.951166 “Why would it not think of its typographic form already from its birth!”: a genetic approach to the typography of Aaro Hellaakoski’s “Kesien Kesä” VEIJO PULKKINEN In his posthumously published memoir of his literary career Runon historiaa (1964) (History of the Poem), Aaro Hellaakoski (1893–1952) reminisces that his explorations into ancient Egyptian and Oriental art and modern French and Italian poetry and painting — especially Cubism and Futurism — paved the way for his typographically experimental collection of poetry Jääpeili (1928) (Ice Mirror).1 Unfortunately, he does not comment on the actual typography of the work. The few words on typography concern the idea of using typography as a means of poetic expression: Haaveilin kokonaan uudesta tyylistä, joka käyttäisi hyväkseen painoasunkin teknillisiä mahdollisuuksia, saadakseen sielunilmeen värähdyksen kiinni sanaan. Onhan runo nykyisin painotuote. Miksei se jo syntyessään ajattelisi typograafista muotoansa!2 (I was dreaming of a completely new style that would take advantage of the technical possibilities of typography to catch a quiver of an inner expression in the word. After all, a poem is a print product nowadays. Why would it not think of its typographic form already from its birth!) Hellaakoski’s remarks are interesting since besides implying that typography has become an intrinsic part of poetry, he also seems to think that the visual aspect has a crucial role in the genesis of the poem: typography is something that has to be taken into account already at the beginning of the composing of a poem. If the meaning of a visual poem is a product of the interplay between the linguistic text and its visual rendering, typographic variance in the various genetic stages can affect the interpretation of the poem as much as textual variance. In this article I will take my cue from Hellaakoski’s idea and examine how a poem “thinks” about its typography through its genesis. My example from Jääpeili is “Kesien kesä” (The Summer of Summers) (figure 1).3 The fact that the manuscript, proofs, and published versions of the poem show a considerable amount of typographic variance but almost no textual variance at all makes “Kesien kesä” an excellent case for examining the impact of typographic variance on the interpretation of the poem.4 The only textual variants are two misplaced question marks in the first proof of the poem (see figure 4). My approach is influenced by French genetic criticism (critique génétique), a branch of literary criticism focusing on the study of manuscripts. Although genetic criticism is mainly concerned with modern literary manuscripts, its methods can also benefit other fields such as the study of archeology, music and visual arts.5 The object of genetic criticism is the creative writing 2 process that can be traced from the various genetic stages manifested by diverse manuscript documents. In the following pages, I intend to apply a genetic approach to the analysis and interpretation of visual poetry. By studying the manuscript, proofs, and published versions of “Kesien kesä”, I will trace the genetic process where Hellaakoski strives to create a typographic layout for his poem.6 The study of visual poetry often focuses solely on the iconicity of the poem, i.e. the interplay between expressive typography and the linguistic text, leaving the genetic documents and the processes they witness with little or no attention. This is, of course, understandable if the genetic material has perished. But if there exist notes, sketches, drafts, manuscripts, and proofs, etc. a genetic approach to typography can enrich our understanding of the poetics and the interpretation of visual poetry as it brings a temporal dimension to the relationship between text and its visual rendering. The following examination of the manuscript, proofs, and published versions of “Kesien kesä” shows how Hellaakoski tries out various typographical means to structure and articulate the thematic content of the poem. It not only demonstrates how important the visual side of the poem was for Hellaakoski, but opens up new interpretations of the iconicity of “Kesien kesä” that would not be possible by concentrating only on the finished and fixed end product. Jääpeili and the avant-garde Thanks to such Finland-Swedish poets as Edith Södergran (1892–1923), Elmer Diktonius (1896–1961), and Gunnar Björling (1887–1960) who wrote in Swedish, the second national language, Finland was in the vanguard of Scandinavian modernism in the 1910s and 1920s.7 However, the only Finnish-language poet that could be compared to the Finland- Swedish modernists was Aaro Hellaakoski, especially on account of his collection of poetry Jääpeili. In the search for a renewed poetic expression, Hellaakoski mixed avant-gardist poetical devices such as free verse, parallel stanzas, colloquial language, and experimental typography with more traditional means.8 Nevertheless, the contemporary Finnish-language discussion about literary modernism in the latter half of the 1920s revolved around a literary group called the Tulenkantajat (the Torch Bearers). The Tulenkantajat consisted of a group of young poets who attacked the older generation of authors and their literary values. Apart from their boasting and self promotion, their actual contribution to modernism consisted mainly in presenting international modernist movements and cultural phenomena. In their actual literary products modernist features were mostly restricted to rather shallow images of automobiles, trains, airplanes, neon-light advertisements, speed, and so on.9 3 Figure 1. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Summer of Summers” (1928). Translation by V. P. Hellaakoski represented one of the few mid-generation authors who had brought expressionism into Finnish literature in the 1910s.10 Publicly, Hellaakoski tried to keep at a neutral distance from the polemics between the young and the old. Hellaakoski has rightly been described as a lone wolf, but this does not mean that his aesthetics and poetry were not affected by his contemporaries. The Tulenkantajat had a sort of negative influence on Jääpeili. Some of the published and unpublished poems of the collection are directed towards the Tulenkantajat, ridiculing and parodying their poetry and conception of modernism. The modernist pamphlet Odkonst och bildkonst (1913) (Literary Art and Pictorial Art) by the Swedish poet Pär Lagerkvist (1891–1974) had a more positive influence on Hellaakoski.11 In it, Lagerkvist proposed that Swedish literature should be renewed by taking its cue from the theoretical principles of Cubist and Expressionist painting and the literature of ancient and primitive cultures. According to Lagerkvist, Expressionism and Cubism strove to purify painting from all foreign elements that disrupted the composition of the work and the artist’s imagination. The same principle of media purity was inherent in primitive art, which shows how the purification and simplification of expression is achieved in practice. Modern authors should study ancient literature such as the Bible, the Quran, the Avesta, the Poetic Edda, and Kalevala to learn how to purify their literary expression by simplifying, distilling, and avoiding realistic representation.12 Hellaakoski’s reminiscence of the writing of Jääpeili, quoted at the beginning of this article, is like a textbook example of how to modernize literature according to Lagerkvist. Hellaakoski 4 mentions that he had been reading French modernist poetry and had discussed with his brother-in-law, the reputed sculptor Wäinö Aaltonen (1894 –1966), the possibilities of Futurism and Cubism. Hellaakoski also refers indirectly to his essays on Egyptian and Oriental sculpture “Vieraitten kulttuurien plastiikka” (1921) (The Plasticism of Foreign Cultures) and modernist painting “Kubismista klassisismiin” (1925) (From Cubism to Classicism).13 He does not mention any ancient literature, but by reading Jääpeili it becomes evident that Hellaakoski also draws from the oldest sources of Finnish literature. There are, for example, allusions to and almost direct quotations from the collection of Finnish folk poetry Kanteletar and old Finnish translations of the Bible and hymnals.14 Another unmentioned source of inspiration for Jääpeili is the history of the book and the book as an aesthetic object. Like many of the more prominent figures of visual poetry, Hellaakoski reacted to the development of printing technology in the nineteenth century.15 He admired the hand-set, hand-pressed, and hand-bound books of the earlier centuries and complained about the inferior quality of modern books caused by the mechanization of the printing press. The illustration of books that became increasingly common through the development of lithography and other reproduction methods was also a nuisance to Hellaakoski. In his essay, “Kirjojen ulkoasusta ja koristamisesta” (1923) (On the Layout and Decoration of Books), Hellaakoski argues that illustration ruins the reception of the work by violating the free imagination of the reader. A fine book or a deluxe edition does not need illustration to be aesthetically pleasing. In Hellaakoski’s opinion, books should only be decorated by pure typographic means, i.e. by the design of the text area and the careful selection of size, paper, ink, type, and typographic ornaments. Hellaakoski advises contemporary book designers to take their cue from old books from the hand-press era. If it is absolutely necessary to have some kind of illustration, it should be as unrealistic as possible: for example, rough woodcuts that look more like abstract ornaments than illustrations of the text.16 It might perhaps come as a surprise that the author of a typographically experimental work such as Jääpeili was so strongly against the illustration of literary works. However, the ideal of pure typography is very much in accordance with Hellaakoski’s aesthetics, which is characterized by a similar concept of media purity put forward by Lagerkvist.17 Moreover, the concept of media purity can be seen as the guiding principle in the typographic poetics of Jääpeili. Although there are some more or less obvious typographic allusions to the visual poetry of F. T. Marinetti and Guillaume Apollinaire in Jääpeili, its poetics is essentially different from theirs.18 In their urge to transgress the boundaries between literature and visual art, Marinetti and Apollinaire frequently resorted to photographically engraved plates when the medium of conventional typography restricted their expression.19 In contrast, Hellaakoski worked within the constraints of letterpress typography and is in this respect more akin to such poets as Stéphane Mallarmé and Ilya Zdanevich.20 For example, Hellaakoski never infringes the so-called quadrature principle of letterpress typography, i.e. he never asks the typesetter to set text in curved lines or other forms that are against the nature of types and other typesetting material, which are mostly angular-shaped objects.21 The typographical devices that Hellaakoski uses in Jääpeili can be divided into two main categories. The first is the use of the page’s white space. It can be further divided into two subcategories: horizontal and vertical spacing. The former includes indentation and letter 5 spacing. The latter concerns stanza breaks or so-called blank lines. The second category is the use of type that can be divided into the choosing of typeface and type size. The most remarkable feature of Jääpeili as a typographically experimental work is that the body text of the four sections of the collection is set in different typefaces. To my knowledge, this is quite an original idea. The manuscript of Jääpeili is handwritten. It was a habit of Hellaakoski to use the proofing process as a genetic stage of his writing. However, one publisher once forbade Hellaakoski to revise the proofs although they had previously agreed upon the matter. This unpleasant surprise was the reason why Hellaakoski bought his first typewriter in 1940 in order to deliver his poems to the print house in a more finished state.22 From a technical perspective, a typewriter is a rather restrictive typographical device since it has only one typeface and type size. This is perhaps the reason why typewriters were rarely used in early twentieth-century visual poetry, e. e. cummings being one of the most notable exceptions. According to Willard Bohn, it was not until the 1950s that the typewriter became more commonly used in visual poetry, especially by the Concretists and Letterists.23 In the manuscript of Jääpeili Hellaakoski has marked the text with digits that refer to the numbered typefaces in the type specimen book of the printing house, Kirjakenäyte kustannusosakeyhtiö Otavan kirjapainosta (1926) (Type Specimen from the Otava Publishing Company’s Print House).24 This facilitates significantly the identifying of the typefaces of Jääpeili. The first section is set with a sans serif typeface called Lapidar (cast by the Genzch & Heyse type foundry). The second section is printed with a roman typeface called Sorbonne (H. Berthold). The third section is set with roman italics that in the type specimen book bear only the generic name Ranskalainen kursiivi (French Italics) (J. G. Schelter & Giesecke). This typeface is also used for typographic contrast in the other three sections. In the third section, the passages with typographic contrast are set with Sorbonne. The last section of Jääpeili is set in a black letter typeface, also gen- erically named Fraktuura (Fraktur) (Monotype Corporation). By setting the body text in different typefaces of letterforms, Hellaakoski uses the historical, national, religious, and aesthetic connotations of typefaces to enhance the thematic content of the sections. Take, for example, the typeface of the last section. As in Germany, many Finns considered fraktur to be a national typeface. It was not until the early 1920s that roman typefaces became more commonly used than fraktur. Especially before the 1880s almost all Finnish literature was printed in fraktur, whereas roman typefaces were reserved for Swedish and foreign-language literature. Roman had an academic and upper class status whereas fraktur was the letterform of the common people. Religious literature in particular was printed in fraktur, which makes it the perfect embodiment for the last section of Jääpeili that is characterized by a vanitas vanitatum theme.25 The flight of the swallows “Kesien kesä” is a remembrance of a past summer condensed into a series of visual and aural sensations: the quivering of trees, the singing of birds, the movement of a curtain, the 6 flight of swallows in the sky, and the sound of a distant airplane. However, the speaker of the poem is not experiencing all of these sensations at the present moment. The first line and the last two stanzas are in the present tense, but the lines in between are written in the past tense. As such, the poem thematizes the interplay between past and present, tradition and modernism, that characterizes the poetics of Jääpeili. “Kesien kesä” can be interpreted as a form of reflection on a process of idealization as it builds a temporal interplay or tension between the past, the present, memory, and the senses. Although the present sensations may seem to be only a pale reflection of the summer of summers, they have a crucial role in evoking the ideal summer, and thus enabling the speaker of the poem to keep his memory alive. The poem itself is a sort of memory trace. It has been noted that Hellaakoski used to refer to the summer of 1928 as “the summer of summers”. It was special to Hellaakoski for many reasons: his doctoral thesis on geology had just been approved, and it was the first time in years that he had the possibility of spending a holiday in the countryside with his wife and daughter. Moreover, most of the poems in Jääpeili were written during that summer, including “Kesien kesä”.26 As a memory, the poem’s dealing with the senses inevitably reflects its own character as a piece of writing. Writing has been associated with memory at least since Plato’s Phaedrus. It is thus not so hard to see a metapoetic level at work in “Kesien kesä”. In this respect, the synesthetic expression of the flight of the swallows that draws a glittering tune in the sky (lines 10–13) is particularly interesting. Synesthesia is a phenomenon in which sensations from one sense modality are triggered by another sense modality. Synesthetes may, for example, experience sounds, numbers, or letters in color. Aristotle was familiar with this sense-related metaphor as a literary device, and it is well known, for example, from Charles Baudelaire’s “Correspondances”.27 The traditional divisions of art are usually based on the medial qualities and constraints of art forms, which are determined by different sense modalities. In this respect, synesthesia has been related to modernist and avant-garde art, which tends to transgress the boundaries between art forms.28 An interesting example that links with “Kesien kesä” is the painting Flight of the Swallows (1916) by the Italian Futurist Giaccomo Balla. The painting is one of his famous experiments depicting speed and physical movement in painting. Taking their cue from cinematography, Balla and other futurists wished to free painting from the fixed spatial moment by representing dynamic and temporal sensations on a two-dimensional medium.29 In “Kesien kesä” the physical movement of the birds elicits a mixture of aural and visual sensation of a glittering tune. With this synesthetic metaphor, the linguistic code of “Kesien kesä” draws our attention to the iconicity of the page, or, to be precise, to the interplay between the verbal, aural (the tune) and visual (glittering) properties of the poem. Here, almost at the center of the poem, “Kesien kesä” “thinks” of its typography already at the level of its linguistic code. An interesting detail is the birds that are described as “dots.” The Finnish word “pilkku” (pl. pilkut) is a dot, spot, or speck, but it is also the word for the comma. Thus the text seems to allude to its almost complete absence of punctuation (the poem contains only four question marks). Punctuation is normally invisible in the sense that 7 it does not catch our attention when it functions as it is expected to do.30 The same is true for typography. The often-repeated maxim is that good typography is invisible, i.e. when it does not divert the attention of the reader from the content of the text.31 It is their unorthodox use that makes the black marks jump out from the white page. It is a well- known feature of modernist poetry to transfer the function of punctuation to the spatial organization of the text.32 Thus, the flight of the swallows not only refers to the missing punctuation but also to the role of typography and the use of the white space of the page in visual poetry. At first glance, the synesthetic metaphor of the flight of the swallows seems to be in contradiction with Hellaakoski’s aesthetics of media purity, especially if we associate it with avant-gardist tendencies to transgress the boundaries between different art forms. But if we keep in mind his statement that poetry is also a print product as well as a linguistic and aural form of art, the synesthetic metaphor of “Kesien kesä” underlines the proper medial qualities of poetry rather than questions them. If poetry is both aural and visual, leaving one or the other out would not fully embrace its medial nature. However, the visual aspect of poetry should not be confused with pictorial art. As the synesthetic metaphor of the flight of the swallows across the sky seems to suggest, the visual medium of poetry is strictly restricted to the role of typography. The sensations depicted in “Kesien kesä” offer an opportune analogue to genetic criticism as a field of study. All of these sensations, except the flight of swallows, represent their object in an indirect way. The speaker of the poem wonders whether the quivering of trees represented day and whether the singing birds represented night. The movement of the curtain revealed the wind and the invisible airplane is recognized by its distant voice. In the semiotics of Charles S. Peirce, this mode of representation is reserved for indexical signs. According to Peirce, an index is: A sign, or representation, which refers to its object not so much because of any similarity or analogy with it, nor because it is associated with general characters which that object happens to possess, as because it is in dynamical (including spatial) connection both with the individual object, on the one hand, and with the senses or memory of the person for whom it serves as a sign, on the other hand.33 In other words, an index is not an icon that resembles its object like a portrait, for example. Neither is it a symbol, such as a word or a number that refers to its object solely by convention, rule, or habit. An index is a sign that has a contiguous, temporally and spatially determined relation to its object, for instance, the causal relation between fire and smoke.34 The object of the sign does not have to be actually present. It can be a memory, like in Hellaakoski’s poem. As such, the index is a trace of a bygone event. In this sense, the index can also be considered to define genetic criticism. As a field of study, genetic criticism is concerned with the reconstruction of a past process. The relation between the surviving genetic documents and the genetic process is indexical. The documents provide the material, i.e. diverse sensory traces that enable the researcher to interpret the past process as if evoking a memory.35 8 To approach the typography of a visual poem from a genetic perspective, we have to be able to distinguish it from its material manifestation in a particular document. This does not mean that we should not be concerned with the singularity of the material document. Quite the contrary, it is upon the material traces of these documents that we base our interpretations of the genesis. This interplay between the material and more abstract dimension of typography can be demonstrated with the help of the manuscript of “Kesien kesä”. It is a holograph manuscript written with a pen on a ruled sheet of paper (figure 2). As a material object, the manuscript is an index of its author’s past presence, for the writing on the document is actually produced by the hand of the author. As a linguistic message or text, the manuscript is a symbolic sign. Besides the text of the poem, the manuscript contains additional pencil markings and writing. These inscriptions are symbolic descriptions of the typography of the poem concerning typefaces and type sizes. The spatial organization of the text is demonstrated by iconic means. These are the verbal and graphic directions for the realization of the typography of the poem. Obviously, a holograph manuscript is not a typographic object materially. Nevertheless, the manuscript of “Kesien kesä” represents the first stage of the typography of the poem, that is, typography in a more abstract state of becoming. [Figure 2. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Kesien kesä” (1928). Manuscript. Helsinki, Literary Archives of the Finnish Literature Society, SKS (scan SKS). Only available on the final published version.] The manuscript of “Kesien kesä” has actually served as the printer’s copy for two different publications of the poem. “Kesien kesä” was first published in July 1928 in a magazine called Aitta (Granary) together with another poem called “Sade” (Rain) (figure 3).36 In November, both poems were published again in Jääpeili, and we can thus separate two different sets of symbolic descriptions for the typography of “Kesien kesä” in the manuscript. For example, the second line from the top of the page says “Kaksi runoa” (Two poems), which is the title under which the poems were published in Aitta. The title has been crossed out since it became obsolete in Jääpeili, where the poems were placed in different sections. On the top of the page is an underlined note to the typesetter: “Huom! — Ladontamalli liitteessä” (NB — The type- setting model is in the appendix). The note is presumably directed to the typesetter of Jääpeili, given that it is not crossed out. Unfortunately, this typesetting model has not survived. Although the hypotheses about the missing document are for the most part only projected elements from later genetic stages, it should be taken into account in the reconstruction of the genesis of the poem’s typography.37 There are reasons to believe that the typesetting model was a more or less modified clipping of “Kesien kesä” from the Aitta magazine. First, Hellaakoski used such typesetting models for other poems in Jääpeili although these were not clippings from magazines, but models cut and pasted made from the sheets of the first proof.38 Second, the typographic layout of the first proof of “Kesien kesä” differs considerably from the manuscript, especially concerning the use of white space (figure 4). In contrast, the typographic realization of “Kesien kesä” in the first magazine publication of the poem is quite faithful to the manuscript, which indicates that the lost typesetting model was a modified version. 9 Figure 3. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Kaksi runoa,” Aitta 7 (July 1928) (scan V. P.). [Figure 4. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Kesien kesä” (1928). First proof. Helsinki, the Literary Archives of the Finnish Literature Society, SKS (scan SKS). Only available on the final published version.] Typography in context George Bornstein has pointed out that the other contents of a publication are often a relevant part of the bibliographic code of a poem.39 The bibliographical code is a concept coined by Jerome J. McGann to stress the significance of the sociohistorical context and material means of production of a work, such as the binding of a book, its quality of ink and paper, its typography, etc.40 “Kesien kesä” shows that besides the other contents the overall typographic style of the publication pro- vides significant information for the interpretation of the poem. If we wish to understand the changes that took place between the two typographic versions of “Kesien kesä” published during Hellaakoski’s lifetime, we have to extend our examination to the overall typographic design of Aitta and Jääpeili. In this section, I will explore the typographical variance of “Kesien kesä” in the Aitta version and first proof of Jääpeili. Among the manuscripts of Jääpeili there are two copies of the first proof. The first copy does not contain any additional markings, but the other includes Hellaakoski’s pencil correc- tions. To save space, I have included only a picture of the latter (see figure 4). For the 10 moment, I will focus only on the printed features of the first proof and suspend the examination of the pencil corrections to the next section of this article, as they represent a later genetic stage. The Aitta and first proof versions of the poem differ in both their use of type and the white space of the page. Besides the normal line spacing or so-called leading, there is no vertical spacing in the manuscript or Aitta versions. Instead of the normal blank lines between stanzas, the stanzas have been separated by different degrees of indentation. The indentation in Aitta matches the graphic or iconic directions of the manuscript. There are three different degrees of indents, which I have termed single, double, and triple indent. Being aligned to the left margin, lines 1, 2, and 7–9 have no indent. The single indent is reserved for the last four lines. The double indent occurs in lines 3, 5, and lines 10–13. Lines 4 and 6 are the only ones with a triple indent. A notable difference between the Aitta version and the first proof is the blank line between lines 6 and 7. This break was probably introduced in the missing typesetting model since it is not indicated in the manuscript. As to the indentation, there are still three different degrees of indents in the first proof. The unintended and single indent lines are the same as in the manuscript and Aitta. However, lines 10–13 have shifted from double to triple indents. This shift was perhaps triggered by the change in the type size of lines 10–13, or vice versa. Whatever the truth, we have to take the use of type into consideration if we wish to gain a grasp of the changes in the use of white space and their impact on the interpretation of the poem. In Aitta “Kesien kesä” is set in two typefaces: the body text is a sans serif typeface and the typographic contrast is created with roman italics. In the first proof, the body text is printed with roman capitals. Lower-case roman and roman italics are used for typographic contrast. All of these three roman types of the first proof are actually different typefaces, i.e. they belong to different font families. When a text reappears in another publication, it is quite natural that the typeface changes, since it is usually determined by the typographic style of the publication. Visual poetry, however, is a special case, where typography can be considered an essential part of the work. There are reasons to believe that Hellaakoski was responsible for the choice of the typefaces of the Aitta version of “Kesien kesä”. It differs remarkably from the typographic style of Aitta, especially with its use of the sans serif typeface. In Finland in 1928, sans serif was still considered suitable only for job printing. This can also be seen in the Aitta issue in question, where sans serif is only used in a couple of advertisements. The body text of the magazine is set in a roman typeface, italics are used for contrast and many of the titles are hand-lettered. The attitudes towards sans serif changed drastically a few years later, when the modernist style of the New Typography arrived in the early 1930s.41 Moreover, Aitta magazine was printed and published by the same company, Kustannusosakeyhtiö Otava, that published Jääpeili. It is the overall typographic design of Jääpeili that explains the use of capitals in the first proof of “Kesien kesä”. As mentioned earlier, Jääpeili is divided into four different sections and the body text of each section is set in different typefaces. The sans serif used in the Aitta version is actually the same Lapidar that the first section of Jääpeili is set in. The second section where “Kesien kesä” is situated is set in roman. As the first proofs of Jääpeili show, 11 Hellaakoski initially planned to print the second section with roman capitals. This typeface, too, bears a generic name: Kapiteeli (Capitals) (Monotype Corporation). “Kesien kesä” was eventually set in capitals in the first proof like the rest of the second section. As for the type size, there is an overall decrease from the Aitta to the Jääpeili version of “Kesien kesä.” This has to do with the change of format from a magazine (page size 18.2 x 24.2 cm) to a collection of poetry (12.1 x 19.1 cm). Although there are two poems fitted on the same page in Aitta, they are still printed with a larger type size. The body text changes from corpus to petit and the contrasted lines from petit to nonpareil. Knowing this overall change in the type size from one format to another we can put it aside and focus on the variance between these versions in the corresponding relation of type sizes of the body text and the contrasted lines. The first proof introduces such a type size variant contrasting the italicized lines with the body text. These are the same lines whose indentation changed in the first proof. In Aitta, the type size of these lines is the same, but in the first proof the italics are printed with a smaller size than the body text. I will proceed to analyze these changes and their impact on the poem’s interpretation in the next section. Font variance: analysis and interpretation The changes in the typefaces and sizes in “Kesien kesä” have a significant impact on the visual structure of the poem. Like rhymes and alliteration, typographic contrast can associate and juxtapose lines and words with each other. To help analyze the variance of the typographic contrast between the versions of “Kesien kesä,” I have ordered the lines of the poem according to the different fonts, i.e. the different combinations of typeface and type size.42 I have emboldened the same type sizes and italicized the same typefaces that appear in different fonts in order to highlight the typographic associations between the lines of the poem. In this way, the lines in the Aitta version of “Kesien kesä” can be divided into three different fonts (table 1). The first font is a combination or synthesis of fonts 2 and 3. It shares the same typeface with font 2, but not its type size. Font 3 has a different typeface, but its type size is the same as font 1. Fonts 2 and 3 are antitheses. They do not have a common typeface or type size. It is the first font that relates them to each other and ties the lines of the poem together visually. Although the first proof has one typeface more than the Aitta version, it does not have more fonts (table 2). Table 1. Fonts of the Aitta version of “Kesien kesä”. 1. Corpus + Sans serif (1–3, 5, 7–9) 2. Corpus + Italics (10–13) 3. Petit + Sans serif (4, 6, 14–17) 12 Table 2. Fonts of the first proof of “Kesien kesä”. 1. Petit + Capitals (1–3, 5, 7–9) 2. Nonpareil + Roman (4, 6, 14–17) 3. Nonpareil + Italics (10–13) Interestingly, the use of type in the first proof is almost an inversion of the Aitta version. In the proof, the first font is dissociated from fonts 2 and 3, whereas in Aitta the first font was associated with both of them. The only connection rests now between fonts 2 and 3. In this sense, the addition of a typeface has resulted in a more incoherent visual structure. The associations between the lines run in opposite directions in these two versions of the poem. In Aitta, lines 1–3, 5, and 7–9 are associated with the rest of the poem by their typeface or type size, but in the first proof they are separated by the use of type. These typographic changes influence the interpretation of the poem as an interplay between memory and past and present sensations. The first half of the poem, which is mostly written in the past tense, can be understood as the realm of memory, whereas the rest of the poem is written in the present tense and thus represents the present. From this perspective, lines 4 and 6 on the past side are of special interest since they are visually connected with the present side of the poem by their matching type size in both versions (lines 14–17 in Aitta, and 10–17 in the first proof). In Aitta, these lines are set with the same sans serif typeface as the body text. Only the type size is smaller. This can be interpreted as an iconic representation of quantitative difference between the past and present sensations. Typeface can be considered the qualitative and primary property of a font, whereas the type size is a quantitative and secondary property. It is thus the typeface that defines the identity of the font. In this perspective, the temporal difference between past and present sensations can be interpreted as a mere quantitative difference. These curious lines are like shadows on the curtain or voices that echo the same tone (typeface), only with less volume (type size). Thus the typography of Aitta builds a bridge between past and present sensations, as if they were in interplay evoking and intensifying the significance of both temporal dimensions. In the first proof, this bridge between the past and the present and between memories and sensations is broken down by the use of type and typographic space. Stanza breaks have much latent iconic potential that can be thematized in the interpretation of the text.43 The stanza break divides the poem spatially into two distinct parts in the first proof of “Kesien kesä”. Situated above line 7 it looks as if the blank line is meant to be an iconic representation of “the side of a white curtain” that separates the past from the present. The past is further estranged from the present by the dissociation of font 1 and the rest of the poem. The typographic contrast between the body text and lines 4 and 6 is steeper than in Aitta. Printed in a different typeface and size they differ both qualitatively and quantitatively from the body text of the first proof. In the manuscript and Aitta, lines 4 and 6 had their own indent, whereas in the first proof they share it with lines 10–13. Lines 4 and 6 are thus also spatially more connected to the present than in the former versions. It looks as if these interrogative lines are cutting through the white curtain between the present and 13 the past, leaving holes shaped like question marks. They are like arrows or knives that penetrate into the realm of the memory. Instead of connecting the past and the present, the iconic typography of these lines seems to question the representative value of the past sensations. Waving the curtain: iconicity revealed I will now turn to Hellaakoski’s pencil corrections on the first proof. Besides the correction of the misplaced question mark in line 6, all of these marks concern the spacing of the text. In line 9 he directs the typesetter to narrow the spaces around and between the question marks. Another instance of horizontal spacing is found on the last four lines, which have been circled. The abbreviation “harv.” translates into English as “space out”. The arrow under the last line shows the direction where the lines should extend. There are also markings indicating vertical spacing. The word “riviväliä” (line spacing) between lines 9 and 10, and 13 and 14, indicates that a blank line should be added. The corrections to the first proof of “Kesien kesä” do not indicate any changes in the typeface. However, there is a note on the title page of the second section on the first proof of Jääpeili that all capitals are to be reset with corpus size Sorbonne. This means that the typeface of the body text of the entire second section, including “Kesien kesä”, is going to be changed. [Figure 5. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Kesien kesä” (1928). Second proof. Helsinki, the Literary Archives of the Finnish Literature Society, SKS (scan SKS). Only available on the final published version.] The second proof shows how these changes in type and spacing were realized by the typesetter (figure 5). At this stage, the bibliographic code is very close to the first edition of Jääpeili. The only difference is the left alignment of the first line. The alignment was corrected in the third proof of the poem, which is practically identical to the first edition.44 The most striking difference between the second proof and the earlier versions is probably the added stanza breaks dividing the poem into four distinct stanzas. On the one hand, these white spaces complicate the visual structure of the poem and it emphasizes the disconnectedness of the depicted sensations. On the other hand, these breaks could be interpreted as an elaboration of the icon of the white curtain. The latent iconicity of stanza breaks can thus be thematized through a genetic interpretation where they are associated with the production process of the poem’s typographic design. The curtain simply does not separate the past from the present, but waves between the different sensations registering their movement from one temporal domain to another. It seems as if Hellaakoski tried to balance the complexity created by the blank lines by reducing the number of typefaces and indents. From the perspective of typefaces, the number of different fonts remains the same as in the earlier versions (table 3). 14 Table 3. Fonts of the second proof of “Kesien kesä”. 1. Petit + Roman (1–3, 5, 7–9) 2. Nonpareil + Roman (4, 6, 14–17) 3. Nonpareil + Italics (10–13) The second proof is a step backwards to the Aitta version of the poem. Obviously, the typeface of the body text is different in these versions, but a similarity lies in the fact that the typographical contrast between the body text and lines 4 and 6 is based only on type size. Thus Hellaakoski restores the bridge between the past and the present and the temporal interplay of sensations that was broken down in the first proof by resetting the body text of the second section of Jääpeili in lower-case roman typeface. As to the type sizes, Hellaakoski keeps the smaller size for the four lines in italic that were introduced in the first proof. The same type size strengthens the connection between the last eight lines, which are written in the present tense but printed with two different typefaces. It supports the idea of the two coexisting realms of sensory experience that intercept each other in lines 3 to 6. Somewhat surprisingly, the indentation changes quite remarkably in the second proof, although there were no indications of this in Hellaakoski’s corrections to the first proof. The changes to the second proof reduce the number of indents and, thus, simplify the visual structure of the poem. The non- indented lines are again the same as in the earlier versions. The most remarkable change is the shift of the last four lines to the same single indent as in lines 3 and 5. In the earlier version the last four lines had their own indent as a sort of landmark of the present. When the last stanza is distinguished from the other stanzas not only by the blank line but also by letter spacing, it is the indentation that keeps it connected with the poem. With the same indentation as lines 3 and 5 the last stanza is now visually associated with the past and thus takes part in the temporal interplay of the poem. The indent of lines 4, 6, and 10–13 is the same in the first and second proof with the proviso that the lines are not perfectly aligned with each other in the second proof. I think this is probably an accidental rather than an intentional design because the difference is so small that it does not really create any contrast. In the first proof, the alignment of these lines is exact. Moreover, there was no indication that these lines should be changed. The indentation of the second proof gives the poem a coherent and somewhat logical structure. All the separate stanzas are indented differently: the second stanza is aligned to the left margin, the third stanza has a double indent and the last stanza has a single indent. However, the first stanza includes all of these horizontal variations: lines 1 and 2 are associated with the second stanza, lines 3 and 5 with the last stanza, and lines 4 and 6 with the third stanza. As such, it sums up the different summery sensations represented by the separate stanzas under a common denominator, which, of course, is the first line of the poem: “The summer of summers”. The genetic examination of the typography of “Kesien kesä” reveals a multiphase process where Hellaakoski strove to achieve a satisfactory visual rendering for his poem. The process could be described as a trial-and-error method. Although typography in a state of becoming is a more 15 abstract entity, the process itself is characteristically material: Hellaakoski needed to try out different typographic layouts and execute them in a material, visible form to judge whether they worked or not. In particular, the use of white space that does not convert easily into a symbolic description occupies Hellaakoski in the proof stage of the work’s genesis. The various genetic stages offer a context for the interpretation of the poem. They form a series of alternative renderings — a sort of paradigmatic axis — of the visual layout of “Kesien kesä” that produces meaning through their differences. The genetic approach to typographically experimental poetry can thus enable new interpretations. Like some modernist painter advancing from a figurative embryo towards more abstract forms, the later stages of a genetic process of a typographically experimental poem may conceal earlier, more iconic features of its visual layout. The choice to hide or omit is as important as the choice to keep, as it provides us with information about the aesthetic and poetical “thinking” of the poem. In this sense the genesis of a poem forms the roots of its poetics as practical writing. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This work was supported by the Academy of Finland (project number 251025); the Finnish Cultural Foundation (grant number 00110730); and the Finnish Literature Society, SKS. NOTES 1. Aaro Hellaakoski, Runon historiaa (Helsinki: WSOY, 1964); Jääpeili (Helsinki: Otava, 1928). 2. Hellaakoski, Runon, 61, 63. Translated by V. P. 3. The typographic arrangement of my rough translation of “Kesien kesä” is an interpretation based on the version printed in the first edition of Jääpeili. For want of the original typefaces I have had to settle with Gill Sans light in the title and Garamond in the body text, where it is used in both the roman and italic. 4. The manuscript and proofs of “Kesien kesä” are deposited in the Literary Archives of the Finnish Literature Society, SKS. 5. See, for example, Word & Image 13 (1997) a special issue devoted to genetic criticism; Genesis 14 (2000) a special issue devoted to architecture; Genesis 28 (2007) a special issue devoted to cinema; William Kinderman and Joseph E. Jones, eds., Genetic Criticism and the Creative Process: Essays from Music, Literature, and Theater (Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2009). 6. For a more theoretically elaborated account of this genetic approach to the study of typography, see Veijo Pulkkinen, “A Genetic and Semiotic Approach to the Bibliographical Code Exemplified by the Typography of Aaro Hellaakoski’s ‘Dolce far Niente’,” Variants 10 (2013): 163–86. 7. Fredrik Herzberg, Vesa Haapala and Janna Kantola, “The Finland- Swedish Avant-Garde Moments,” in A Cultural History of the Avant-Garde in the Nordic Countries 1900–1925, ed. Hubert van den Berg, Irmeli Hautamäki, Benedikt Hjartarson, Torben Jelsbak, Rikard Schönström, Per Stounbjerg, Tania Ørum and Dorthe Aagesen (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2012), 445–61, here 445–59. 8. Kai Laitinen, Suomen kirjallisuuden historia (Helsinki: Otava, 1997), 389; Markku Envall, “The Period of Independence 1, 1917–1960,” trans. Ritva Poom, in Histories of Scandinavian Literature, 5 vols, ed. Patricia Conroy, Eric Johannsson, Harald Naess, Sven H. Rossel and George C. Schoolfield (Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1993–2007), vol. IV: A History of Finland’s Literature, ed. George C. Schoolfield (1998), 145–207, here 154–55; Satu Grüntahl, “Vapautuva runokieli,” in Suomen kirjallisuushistoria, 3 vols, ed. Yrjö Varpio, (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1999), vol. II: Järkiuskosta vaistojen kapinaan, ed. Lea Rojola, 202– 209, here 208; Hertzberg, Haapala and Kantola, “The Finland-Swedish Avant-Garde Moments,” 456. 16 9. Envall, “The Period of Independence 1, 1917–1960,” 157; Hertzberg, Haapala and Kantola, “The Finland- Swedish Avant-Garde Moments,” 456–57. 10. Pertti Lassila, Uuden aikakauden runous: ekspressionistinen tematiikka 1910- ja 1920-luvun suomenkielisessä lyriikassa (Helsinki: Otava, 1987), 75, 109. 11. Aulimaija Viljanen has found a well-thumbed copy of Ordkonst och bildkonst in Hellaakoski’s library (“Nykyaikaa etsimässä Apollinairesta Paavolaiseen,” Kirjallisuudentutkijain seuran vuosikirja 26 (1972): 210–20, here 215. 12. Pär Lagerkvist, Ordkonst och bildkonst (Stockholm: Bröderna Lagerström, 1913), 21, 24–25, 44–50, 56–60; Rikard Schönström, “Pär Lagerkvist’s Literary Art and Pictorial Art,” in A Cultural History of the Avant-Garde in the Nordic Countries 1900–1925, ed. Hubert van den Berg, Irmeli Hautamäki, Benedikt Hjartarson, Torben Jelsbak, Rikard Schönström, Per Stounbjerg, Tania Ørum and Dorthe Aagesen (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2012), 435–44. 13. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Vieraitten kulttuurien plastiikka,” Aika (1921): 343–54; “Kubismista klassisismiin,” in Taiteilijaseuran joulualbumi (Helsinki: Suomen Taiteilijaseura, 1925), 61–77. 14. Elias Lönnrot, Kanteletar: taikka Suomen kansan vanhoja lauluja ja virsiä (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1840); Keijo Holsti, “‘Hauen laulu’ — yhteyksiä ja tulkintaa,” Kirjallisuudentutkijain seuran vuosikirja 24 (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1969): 68–75, here 69. 15. For the relation between nineteenth-century print technology and visual poetry see, for example, Alain- Marie Bassy, “Forme littéraire et forme graphique: les schématogrammes d’Apollinaire,” Scolies: Cahiers de recherche de l’école normale supérieure 3–4 (1973–1974): 161–207, here 163–65; David Cundy, “Marinetti and Italian Futurist Typography,” Art Journal 41, no. 4, Futurism (Winter 1981): 349–52, here 349; Edward Kasinec and Robert Davis, “Russian Book Arts on the Eve of World War One: The New York Public Library Collections,” Journal of Decorative and Propaganda Arts 14 (Autumn 1989): 94–111, here 103–105; Jean-Gérard Lapacherie, “Typographic Characters: Tension Between Text and Drawing,” Anna Lehmann trans., Yale French Studies 84, Boundaries: Writing & Drawing (1994): 63–77, here 76; Linda Goddard, “Mallarmé, Picasso and the Aesthetic of the Newspaper,” Word and Image 22, no. 4 (October– December 2006): 293–303, here, 298–99; Johanna Drucker, “Book Production of Russian Avant-Garde Books 1912–1916,” Journal of Artists Books 26 (Fall, 2009): 39–45. 16. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Kirjojen ulkoasusta ja koristamisesta,” Iltalehti (March 5, 1923). The essay was republished in Aaro Hellaakoski, Kuuntelua: Esseitä teoksista ja tekijöistä (Helsinki: WSOY, 1950), 11–19. 17. The concept of media purity also detemined Hellaakoski’s view of painting. For example, in his essay “Kubismista klassisismiin” Hellaakoski states that the Cubist collage transgressed the medium of painting because it did not settle for applying paint on a canvas with a brush (“Kubismista,” 69–70). 18. For example, the poem “Sade” (Rain) is obviously influenced by Apollinaire’s “Il pleut” (It’s Raining) not only by its title, but also by its use of diagonally ascending letters to represent rain (see figure 3). 19. Cundy, “Marinetti,” 350; Willard Bohn, The Aesthetics of Visual Poetry 1914–1928 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 50, 62–64; John J. White, Literary Futurism: Aspects of the First Avant Garde (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 128–29; Johanna Drucker, The Visible Word: Experimental Typography and Modern Art, 1909–1923 (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1994), 118, 137–38, 153. 20. Drucker, The Visible, 176; “Book,” 43–44. 21. K. Malmström, Kirjapainotaidon oppikirja, latomis-osa (Helsinki: Otava, 1923), 581; Lauri Hendell and V. A. Vuorio, Kirja ja kirjapainotaito (Helsinki: Otava, 1942), 135; Drucker, “Book,” 43. 22. Hellaakoski, Runon, 57. 23. Bohn, The Aesthetics, 3. 24. Kirjakenäyte kustannusosakeyhtiö Otavan kirjapainosta (Helsinki: Otava, 1926). The type specimen book is held in the archives of Otava Publishing Company. 25. Yrjö A. Jäntti, Kirjapainotaidon historia (Helsinki: WSOY, 1940), 431–32; Karl-Rudolf Gardberg, Kirjapainotaito Suomessa, 3 vols, trans. Eino Nivanka (Helsinki: Helsingin Graafillinen Klubi, 1949–1973), vol. III: Turun palosta vuoteen 1918 (1973), 464–66; Sirkka Havu, “Suomalaisen kirjan tyylihistoriaa,” in Kirja Suomessa: Kirjan juhlavuoden na ! yttely Kansallismuseossa 25.8.– 31.12.1988, ed. Esko Häkli (Helsinki: Helsingin yliopiston kirjasto, 1988), 119– 36, here 129. 26. Unto Kupiainen, Aaro Hellaakoski: Ihminen ja runoilija (Helsinki: WSOY, 1953), 195–96. 17 27. Yi-Fu Tuan, “Sign and Metaphor,” Annals of the Association of American Geographers 68 (1978): 363–72, here 366–67; Crétien van Campen, “Artistic and Psychological Experiments with Synesthesia,” Leonardo 32 (1999): 9–14, here 9; Sean Allen-Hermanson and Jennifer Matey, “Synesthesia,” in Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, http://www.iep.utm.edu/synesthe/ (accessed October 10, 2013). 28. Van Campen, “Artistic,” 11. 29. Edward Aiken, “The Cinema and Italian Futurist Painting,” Art Journal 41 (1981): 353–57, here 354. 30. Anne Toner, “Introduction,” Visible Language 45 (2011): 7–19, here 7. 31. Paul C. Gutjahr and. Megan L. Benton, “Introduction: Reading the Invisible,” in Illuminating Letters: Typography and Literary Interpretation, ed. Paul C. Gutjahr and Megan L. Benton (Amherst and Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 2001), 1–15, here 1–3. 32. R. A. York, “Mallarmé and Apollinaire: The Unpunctuated Text,” Visible Language 23 (1989): 45–62, here, 45. 33. Charles S. Peirce, Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce, 8 vols, ed. Charles Hartshorne, Paul Weiss and Arthur W. Burks (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1931–1958), 2:305. 34. Ibid., 2:248, 4:447. See also James Jakób Liszka, A General Introduction to the Semeiotic of Charles Sanders Peirce (Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1996), 38–39. 35. Daniel Ferrer, “Le Matériel et le Virtuel: Du Paradigme Indiciaire à la Logique des Mondes Possibles,” in Pourquoi la Critique Génétique? Méthodes, Théories, ed. Michel Contat and Daniel Ferrer (Paris: CNRS Éditions, 1998), 11–30, here 12–18; “The Open Space of the Draft Page: James Joyce and Modern Manuscripts,” in The Iconic Page in Manuscript, Print, and Digital Culture, ed. George Bornstein and Theresa Tinkle (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1998), 249–67, here 251. 36. Aaro Hellaakoski, “Kaksi runoa,” Aitta 7 (July 1928): 47. 37. For a discussion about missing documents of genetic stages, see Daniel Ferrer, “The Interaction of Verbal and Pictorial Elements in the Genesis of Eugène Delacroix’s Sultan of Morocco,” Word & Image 13, no. 2 (April–June 1997): 183–93, here 184. 38. For a fascinating instance of Hellaakoski’s cut and paste method, see an examination of “Dolce far niente” in Pulkkinen, “A Genetic.” 39. Bornstein, Material Modernism: The Politics of the Page, 6, 9–13. 40. Jerome J. McGann, Textual Condition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991), 12–15, 56–62. 41. Armas Pajatti, “Painotuotantomme ulkoasun vaiheita vuosisatamme aikana,” in Suomen kirjapainotaidon historiaa 1900–1942, ed. Einari Teräskivi and Olavi Suominen (Helsinki: Helsingin Graafillinen Klubi, 1942), 93–148, here 112–28; Markus Itkonen, Kadonneet kirjaintyypit: Suomalainen kirjainmuotoilu 1920–1985 (Helsinki: RPS-yhtiöt, 2012), 34–39. 42. According to Robert Bringhurst, the concept of font designated the unit of a typeface and type size in metal type typography. The Elements of Typographic Style. Version 2.5 (Vancouver: Hartley & Marks, 2002), 291. 43. Max Nanny, “Iconicity in Literature,” Word & Image 2 (July– September 1986): 199–208, here 202–203. 44. To save space I have not included pictures of the third proof and first edition versions of “Kesien kesä” because of the minimal amount of variance between them and the second proof of the poem.