Meet Olle Bergman - 4 x SWF Attendee
Olle Bergman - in all weather running gear.
Olle Bergman works as a freelance writer in the fields of science, technology, and medicine. Additionally, he is a communications coach and workshop leader, with a focus on early-career scientists. As a non-fiction author, Olle has published two titles in the popular medicine genre, and six titles in the popular history genre. Currently, he is working on a handbook for a science publisher: “Communicating Science - a practical handbook.”
It was Olle’s Swedish high school teacher who first inspired him to become a writer, though he initially chose to study chemical engineering at university, and worked for three years as a research assistant in a lab.
After working in the publishing industry, corporate communications, and advertising, Olle eventually became a freelance writer in 1998 and has enjoyed life as a free soul ever since.
Olle’s wife is also a writer and editor, and their five children are all interested in language and communication in different channels.
You can explore some of Olle’s work on his website: http://endjeflaman.se or connect with him on Instagram at @generalblom.
A fairly common thread in the SWF community is that many of us have dreamed of writing for years before we ever had the time, resources, or ability to sit down and actually do it. When did you first decide writing was something that you wanted to actively pursue, and then how long was it before you started writing seriously?
It was my high school teacher who demonstrated the power of literature to me and my classmates. Being an author himself, he conveyed his own passion in a way that inspired us all. This was when I started writing poetry and decided that one day I would become a fiction writer. It has taken some time, but I’m well on my way.
What is your primary creative writing genre, and did this change over the years, or has this always been your main focus?
I have always written poetry, but I also like writing short stories and am currently working on a novel.
Can you tell us about some of your favorite SWF moment(s) and what really stuck with you after the festivals?
For me, SWF has mostly been a source of practical information, opening new doors and convincing me that you can find your own path through the world of literature and publishing.
When it comes to inspiration at SWF, I love the networking and conversations during the breaks and lunches and have made some personal friends in the SWF community throughout the years.
What would you say were the biggest takeaways for you from SWF?
That you don’t have to play by the old rules set by the publishing industry anymore.
Do you recall any moments that helped clarify things in a new way, or provided new insights into specific areas of the craft?
I am fascinated by the way some writers have made their own creative niche, supported by a platform for communication/distribution/revenue that they themselves control.
It’s also interesting to learn how things work in the Anglo-Saxon world of books.
How have you evolved as a writer since attending your first Stockholm Writers Festival, and what part did the festival itself play in that evolution?
Yes, I have evolved. Partly for other reasons, but SWF has been both a source of inspiration and a booster to my self-esteem – so many great role-models, and so much insight on how to succeed!
Can you tell us a little about a piece you’ve written in the past that you are particularly proud of, published or not — just something that still moves you every time you revisit it?
I have written a collection of poems paraphrasing the book “Spoon River Anthology“ by the American author Edgar Lee Masters (1868–1950). Instead of telling the individual stories of the inhabitants of a small town in Illinois, it brings us close to the lives of the people in a Swedish biotech company, Pectoris.
Overall, has attending SWF helped you in pursuing the “path to published," and if so, how?
Yes, definitely – I intend to self-publish some of my work.
Is there anything specific that you hope to learn more about at SWF22?
It would be interesting to have a discussion on the differences between the publishing industries in the Anglo-Saxon world and in Scandinavia.
We asked Olle to include a short piece that he’s written — a short poem, a 100-word story, something creative that we could share with you all for inspiration. This is a poem from his collection about the lives of the people at Pectoris, as mentioned above!
Editor’s Note: After Olle’s untimely passing in December of 2023, we’ve added the opening introduction he shared with us a number of years ago, as well as additional poems.
Pectoris Corp.
or
The infinite sadness
of the alienated engineer
Poems by Olle Bergman
“The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.”
Thomas Gray (1716–71), Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard
Preface
In this book, you will meet a number of employees from a fictional Swedish MedTech (medical technology) company. Using a poetic format, they try to clarify what became of their lives. Many of them do this by recounting a key moment that serves as a metaphor for their fate – chosen or not.
One detail may seem peculiar at first: you will notice that they are all dead. There’s a special reason for that.
This collection of poems is, in fact, a paraphrase of the book Spoon River Anthology by the American author Edgar Lee Masters (1868–1950), who spent most of his days in Illinois.
Spoon River Anthology is described by Wikipedia as “… a collection of short, free verse poems that collectively narrates the epitaphs of the residents of Spoon River, a fictional small town”. Wikipedia then explains that the aim of the poems is “to demystify the rural, small town American life”. In total, the 244 poems sum up the “lives, losses, and manner of death” of 212 separate individuals from this town (which is actually Lewistown, situated 250 kilometers southeast of Chicago).
I can no longer recall when I first held Spoon River Anthology in my hands. It was probably in the late eighties or in the early nineties. Anyhow, it is by now apparent that Mr. Lee Masters’ descriptions of the longing, egotism and shame hidden within the human heart made a deep impression on the young tech student and research assistant who once was me. Little did I know that I would soon enter a context that would inspire me to build my own fictional version of a social system, just like Edgar Lee Master did.
The context in question was an international business environment which I became a part of during the early nineties. I spent a couple of years working with scientific training and corporate communication in this professional community which contained a teeming mix of backgrounds, outlooks, and personalities.
A phenomenon that soon came to fascinate me was the tribalism of the corporate environment. I observed that each of the various departments – representing the different functions of the company – seemed to harbor a body of colleagues who developed (or brought along) their own values and culture. Hence, there was a marketing tribe, an R&D tribe, a manufacturing tribe, and so on. Most of them left me indifferent, the way most people do. On the other hand, many of them were fine people who deserved respect. A few made me feel a slight disdain whereas a handful, unfortunately, were brutes in a suit.
At some point, I turned my observations into notes, reflections, and sketches which became the basis of the poems you find in this book. The first drafts were written in Swedish during the late nineties. In 2017, I found the manuscript in a dusty binder, wrote some translations into English, followed up with some new poems – also in English – and finally made the decision to produce a whole collection.
So here we are, dear reader – mon semblable, – mon frère! This book – for better and for worse – continues to write itself.
Olle Bergman, Eskilstuna
(Version 1.0, 2020-04-30)
Klas Stjerna, Coordination Officer, Marketing
Monsieur Migraine,
as I named my
longtime companion,
always reminded me
when I had pushed myself
too far.
While my colleagues
had the constitution
to manhandle themselves
towards the quarterly goals
of the company
in the long evenings
of the office in shadows,
I had to give in
to the devilish pulsating pain
behind my left eye,
the nausea and the weird numbness
in my arm.
Many times I fell asleep
under my office table
or in the backseat of my car
in the corporate parking lot
instead of fighting in the peloton
on the road leading upward.
I remember the day
when the CEO turned to me
to address his disappointment.
And I looked at him
and saw the beauty of it all:
his stern face veiled by a
glorious, flickering aura
– like a vision of saints.
Zaim Hasić, Transport coordinator, Logistics
When I was a boy,
my best friend was Ivan.
His family Orthodox, mine Muslim.
Little did we care.
Some years later
we were in the same firefight
on a hilltop outside Goražde.
How awful that morning
to discover his corpse,
covered by early frost
and dressed in an Adidas jacket
and rubber boots.
Someone picked up
a half-filled mag
that Ivan had dropped
while I took a sip
from my water bottle
and spat on the ground.
My comrades thought
I showed my contempt.
But it was to clear
the taste of vomit
from my mouth.
Later I came to
this new and generous land.
I pitied them and I envied them
for their belief:
that peace is normality.
But I and Arash know one thing:
each human who trods the earth
may one day be caught
by the streams and whirls
of the cruel and heavy flood
of History.
Nils Masberg, Quality Engineer, Manufacturing
Someone put a 25-cent gasket,
in a million-dollar design.
And microbes multiplied,
because that’s what microbes do.
And frail old patients perished,
because that’s what frail old patients do.
And lawyers came running,
and newshounds came running,
because that’s what lawyers and newshounds do.
And stockbrokers turned their backs on our brand,
because that’s what stockbrokers do.
The process was unstoppable.
Like ripping up the stomach of a whale
and watching tons of guts spilling out:
– a moment of dreadful exhilaration,
an aftermath of stinking misery.
Bertil Ekstam, CEO, Pectoris Group
I soared high above the rest of you,
but unlike the eagle, my eyesight was poor;
I saw neither your smiles nor your tears –
just your actions.
Olle Bergman - Rest in Peace - December, 2023
I was a small-town boy
with mild manners
and perfect taste
in suits, neckties, and shoes.
Half a head taller than my peers,
manicured hands
inherited from miners and forest workers,
eyes the color
of a Västerbotten January morning sky.
I had honored
my father and my mother,
finished my homework
before I played,
connected with my peers
at business school,
burned gallon after gallon
of midnight oil
to slog the extra miles
and prove my worth and rights.
Until people of my kind
put me in this high place
where the kingdoms of the world
can be seen.
And so it came to be
that mine was the power
of the shining flag
with our logo
on the roof of our HQ –
insubstantial but essential.
I was the bolt
which kept it all together
in an undefined way,
a unifying power,
a ghost of pure ethos.
Used by the system
Without anyone knowing
The mechanism
Also to myself
I was an enigma.
⦿