Jüri Kolk calls cooperation humanity’s superpower

People’s superpower is cooperation, while their “superdisease” is the glorification of important old men, writer and translator Jüri Kolk said in an interview published by Sirp and reported by ERR.

Kolk is a man of letters in the broadest sense, working as a philologist, writer, translator and columnist. He has also earned a living in various jobs at the A. Le Coq brewery and enjoys taking on the challenges of nature at his country home.

His work is varied in both life and literature. Kolk made his debut in 2009 with the poetry collection Barbar Conan peeglitaguses maailmas (ja mis ta seal rääkis). Since then, he has written in almost every genre and received recognition for his work.

His 2023 poetry collection Fuuga won the annual award of the literature endowment of the Cultural Endowment of Estonia. His short-story collection Täiesti tavalised inimesed is his 20th book.

Kolk has been even more prolific as a translator, working in both fiction and popular non-fiction. He translated several books that are popular among Estonian children, and received the Tower of Babel Award in 2021 for his Estonian translation of Sally Harris’s Topelt-Felix.

In the interview, Kolk discussed his work and his new book, Täiesti tavalised inimesed, during a conversation held in his kitchen over food, drinks and a view of the surrounding landscape.

What do cooking and writing have in common?

To start writing, it is useful to go for a walk. It is not essential, but sometimes it helps establish a rhythm and clarify a thought.

I grind coffee with a hand mill. That is one of my peculiarities. I actually have quite a few things like that. For example, a razor should last for several generations. Unlike an electric shaver, it does not need to be replaced every few years.

When I cook, I like having a sharp knife that cuts through a tomato. Writing and other kinds of work are similar in their preparation. They are also similar in that you simply have to start, rather than tell yourself that you cannot do it.

I have a poem about this called Valik, or Choice. It goes: “to jump into water / in an unknown place / or remain / dry in a familiar place.” I am an overthinker, but I have actually very often jumped, in a flash, through some window into a strange situation or onto a new path.

You seem to like old-school things.

I like things that last. A kettlebell never wears out. If I have not shaved for a month, a razor is better than an electric shaver. My wristwatch is mechanical.

I remember once needing to call you about some work. During the call, there was a constant swishing sound in the background. It turned out you were mowing the grass with a scythe.

I have left several scythes in different places. An old scythe forgotten under the eaves can often be restored with a little sharpening and mowing. The rust comes off and a very good tool emerges.

If you work with a computer, mowing with a scythe is very good for your shoulders and back. If you do not need to mow an exceptionally large field, it is a good change of pace.

It sometimes seems to me that we spend more time working to acquire things than it would take to walk to the spring, as stated in one of the most popular books of all time.

I am not a Luddite, of course. During that phone call, I was wearing a hands-free headset. I am not saying that we should go back in time, but with some things we have gone too far. Enthusiasm for gadgets is understandable, but sometimes we forget about good, fully functional solutions.

There is something genuinely satisfying about making things with your own hands. It does not necessarily have to be replaced by a faster machine and more screen time.

Tell me about the mechanics of your writing.

I wrote the poetry collection Fuuga with a pen in a notebook.