Estonian

Later, some said that Tõll had said: “If you are in trouble, call me. I will come back and help.” But this is highly doubtful, since Tõll was never a man of words

The Estonian absurd does not stop at naive artists and everyday life, but also permeates high art

Unlike Latvians, who share their smiles sparingly, Estonians really like absurd humor

When Estonia became independent in 1920, the Danish government, in the spirit of Baltic solidarity, donated a Danish flag to Tallinn—the city where the flag was said to have been born—and it was proudly raised in the council church

“The Three-Handed Mother of God is the patron of the innocent abused, and who is more innocently abused today, if not nature?”, says Anatoli, explaining the iconography of the painted saints

The 11th-century Hamburg chronicler Adam of Bremen, who sailed the Baltic Sea on ships of Viking princes, mentions in his Gesta that the pagan people of the Aesti kept snakes as protectors in their homes, and offered sacrifices – sometimes human sacrifices – to the winged snakes, for the safety and wealth of the tribe

The cemetery is also located in the woods, surrounded by a low stone wall. Its unique feature are the “sun crosses”, in Estonian rõngasrist, i.e. stone crosses inscribed in a circle

A 14th-c. Last Judgment fresco on the town hall wall warns the merchants that one day they will be held accountable for everything. For the two piglets roasted on the skewers of the eating-house set up right under the fresco, this moment is already the present; for the chef, who is not ashamed to ask fifteen euros for a portion, only the future threatens

A former user of the pocketbook marked two places with pencil crosses. The smaller cross falls between the questions “Do they [that is, the enemy] have war dogs?” and “Do they have carrier pigeons?”, perhaps slightly closer to the dogs. The larger cross stands beside the question “Where is the general staff (headquarters)?”