The Man Who Left Too Soon: The Life and Works of Stieg Larsson (36 page)

‘In the final analysis, it’s Lisbeth who is really the engine of the books. In fact, the aspect of the books that Blomkvist represents is really a little old-fashioned. All the surrounding accoutrements are the new and cutting-edge – and Lisbeth really is a new figure – but there’s nothing particularly new in the narrative in relation to Blomkvist. If Larsson is doing something new, it really does relate to the utilisation of cyberspace for the narrative, which he clearly knew about, and that is all really concerned with his heroine. And that notion that science fiction at some point is indistinguishable from magic – well, to a degree, it’s true of Lisbeth, whose use of cyberspace gives her this astonishing prescience.’

And Larsson’s relationship to his Scandinavian contemporaries and predecessors?

‘Oh, he’s undoubtedly part of that tradition. And I go back to that suggestion of a slightly chilly exterior, but an underlying moral warmth. I suppose you could say that about the English, which might account for the incredible enthusiasm with which the books are being received in this country. But we are different as nations – for a start, the English are much more ready to moan about things – that’s certainly true. Scandinavians just get on with it. Of course, the yardstick by which I judge all Scandinavian crime fiction is the marvellous Martin Beck series by Sjöwall and Wahlöö. There are ten perfect books, with not a wasted word – they are all exactly as long as they need to be. And that was crusading stuff, too, in the form of a socialist conscience – you could say they were progenitors of Stieg Larsson, although he moves much further away from realism.

‘I’m not worried by something which is problematical for some readers – the fact that, despite Larsson’s feminist credentials, the books are almost pornographically violent and extreme in every sense. And it would appear the majority of his women readers are not worried by this fact. This is striking; apart from anything else, Larsson has a massive female readership. But then so does crime fiction in general, doesn’t it? And, of course, pornography is, to some extent, in the eye of the beholder. I’m not sure quite why Larsson wrote the way he did in this area – was it simply commercial imperatives? Or did he think about the effect of this approach – and was fully aware that he would have us musing about exactly where he was coming from in writing about these extremes of sexuality?’

WRITERS ON STIEG LARSSON: JOHAN THEORIN

The prize-winning Johan Theorin (whose
Echoes from the Dead
is another of the seemingly inexhaustible stream of exemplary Nordic crime novels) has reservations about Stieg Larsson – but of a different order from those of Lauren Milne-Henderson. Speaking to him in Göteborg, I found that the
Millennium Trilogy
is the source of much debate in Sweden.

‘I never knew Stieg Larsson,’ said Theorin, ‘but before his novels were published I had noticed his name for many years, since he was working as a journalist and illustrator for the largest news agency in Sweden, called TT, which sent out news articles to the newspapers were I was working. Larsson is a very common name in Sweden, but when his name appeared as a by-line I noticed it because his first name was spelt just like a mystery writer called Stieg Trenter, who wrote stories about Stockholm in the 1950s and 1960s. [Usually, the Swedish name Stig is spelled without an ‘e’, as was Larsson’s when he was born, but he changed it to Stieg to avoid confusion with another author called Stig Larsson.]

‘The early death of Larsson was of course very tragic, and his friends and family have my deep sympathies. He was an admirable and brave journalist who worked for
Expo
and
Searchlight
and wrote a ground-breaking book about Swedish neo-Nazi groups, and his commitment would certainly be needed today when these groups have changed their party name, put on a suit and a tie and are ready to get into the Swedish parliament.

‘When it comes to the novels of Stieg Larsson, my Swedish friends and I have had big debates about whether they are recommendable or not. I think they are gripping and entertaining as thrillers, but I do have issues with them. They are a bit too long and detailed and preoccupied with computers, for my taste. More importantly, I think their world view is grim and callous, which is a problem I have with many modern thrillers. The world is portrayed as a battleground where there are evil enemies who have to be attacked and destroyed without mercy. I think we have had too many extremists and world leaders preaching that gospel to us lately – we don’t need it in our books as well.

‘And as for the routine promiscuity which Blomkvist and the women around him practise, please spare me. I’ve heard that the sex is something Stieg Larsson added to the plot to make it more commercial, but I wish he hadn’t. For the last 40 years, after a Swedish film called
I Am Curious (Yellow)
became an unexpected hit in the US, we Swedes have had to live with a wanton reputation. We have tried to persuade Americans that Swedes don’t have casual sex any more than anyone else in the world, and just as I think they were starting to believe us, along comes Mikael Blomkvist who routinely beds female colleagues in his stride…’

WRITERS ON STIEG LARSSON: VAL MCDERMID

In some ways, she could be said to be ‘The Woman Behind the Man Behind the
Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
’. Val McDermid, one of the UK’s most accomplished crime writers, is one of the authors name-checked in Larsson’s first novel, and several of the elements that characterise her best-selling crime fiction may be found in the Swedish writer’s work – notably in the beleaguered-but-capable female protagonist obliged to confront the darkest extremes of human behaviour, and graphically described scenes of sexuality and violence. Ironically, McDermid has been on the receiving end of some flak for this element of her work herself, unlike many a male practitioner. There is, of course, the element of political commitment which both writers share, and which is the motivating force in the books. To her pleasure and surprise, McDermid says that when reading
Dragon Tattoo
she noticed that Blomkvist’s reading progress in the book is from Sue Grafton through Sara Paretsky to McDermid’s own work – reflecting, in some way, the darkening tone of the book – as might be seen in the progression of the work of these three best-selling women crime novelists.

‘I know it’s been said that I was an inspiration for Stieg Larsson,’ says McDermid, ‘in fact several people have pointed that out to me. It’s a flattering idea, but I don’t really want to take credit for it. After all, there are only so many ideas out there, and all crime writers are going to end up dealing in that lingua franca of the genre, with all its overlappings. He may have read my books, but then he undoubtedly read a lot of other authors, too. After all, he had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the genre (and not just the crime genre – he knew as much about science fiction as about crime fiction).

‘My book
A Place of Execution
, the book that people routinely compare to Larsson, for instance, has been described as having been inspired by
Murder on the Orient Express
, but familiar as I am with that and with the entire Christie canon, I think I can safely say that that was not the case. As I said, there are only so many ideas, and the fact that there is a congruence between
A Place of Execution
and
Dragon Tattoo
doesn’t mean that he ripped me off – we’re just moving in the same territory, as writers often do.

‘It’s interesting to me that women like myself have been writing edgy, conflicted, complex and strong female characters for quite some time – often with a feminist slant. But generally speaking, and I know there are exceptions, men do not read crime fiction written by women. So it’s salutary that it took a male writer – Stieg Larsson – to move this concept onto a whole new level, in terms of book sales and popularity. I’m not saying I resent it – the fact that he is read by both men and women accounts for the phenomenal popularity – but it is instructive. When a man like Larsson writes a book dealing with misogyny (it’s interesting that the original Swedish title of
Dragon Tattoo
was
Men Who Hate Women
) everybody suddenly exclaims “Bloody hell! There’s misogyny out there!”

‘One of the reasons for his popularity – and it’s definitely part of his achievement – is the fact that in several ways, he broke the rules. Certainly in terms of the creation of a totally original protagonist in Lisbeth. Those of us who toil in the crime fiction field usually don’t set out to break the rules – my agenda is simply to tell the story which is in my head and if it sometimes breaks the rules, well, that’s fine, isn’t it? When
The Wire in the Blood
came out, people said you can’t have a serial killer whose identity is announced on page 2, and now everybody is doing it! Similarly, Stieg will no doubt be the progenitor of a whole legion of socially challenged (but brilliant) young women heroines.’

Val McDermid, of course, is not the only author who might be said to have influenced Stieg Larsson. There is the American writer Sara Paretsky, also name-checked alongside McDermid in the first book. And as well as being an influence on Larsson, Paretsky certainly had a powerful effect on the author of
A Place of Exclusion
.

‘There is no question that Sara Paretsky was an important ground-breaker for many writers such as myself,’ said McDermid, ‘Although we ended up in different places. Paretsky’s protagonist, V I Warshawski, was a strong and capable woman, but was out in the world living out certain feminist values, not living in some little feminist ghetto. She had intelligence, independence and bravery – and a certain foolhardiness (obviously characteristics that also belong to Lisbeth Salander).’

Of course, it could be argued that Larsson is able to deal with some very tricky subject material for a male writer because of his impeccably established feminist credentials – though there are those who have accused him of being somewhat gloating in his treatment of sexual violence.

‘I’ve been accused of being gloating in such matters,’ said McDermid, ‘And I’ve been called a misogynist too! But frankly, even a cursory reading of both Stieg’s books and mine will show that is hardly a justified accusation.’

While McDermid is clearly an admirer, does she regard the three books as a complete unified achievement?

‘I think the first one is really interesting – a really striking book. He’s drawn widely upon elements from right across the genre, and synthesised those elements beautifully. He understands the elements of the genre totally, but he is drawn into those elements and interesting positions on feminism and obviously a political position which is left-of-centre and anti-corporatism, as well as, of course, men who hate women. In this regard, I would draw in Sara Paretsky’s whole oeuvre, where those elements are crucial plot mechanisms. But it’s particularly intriguing to have a male perspective on misogyny – after all, with the best will in the world, a woman will have a certain take on this which will be different from a man, and he is able to articulate this position with great clarity and feeling. As I said, I think that first book is beautifully achieved, but I must admit to having more reservations regarding the second book,
The Girl Who Played with Fire
, which I do feel rather sags in the middle and really is in need of a good edit. For instance, when the superhuman half-brother comes in, alarm bells start ringing. For me, this is similar to the point at which Patricia Cornwell started to go off the rails, introducing a werewolf. A guy suffering from hirsutism! You can’t allow the reader to suddenly feel “Come on, this is silly!” It does hurt the book. Larsson never loses the narrative grasp, but for me it’s problematical.

‘And then we get to the third book,
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest
, and he is firmly back on track. This one has a really strong and interesting idea about the individual against the state, and it’s particularly interesting for those of us in Britain who had always regarded Sweden as a bastion of liberalism in the best possible sense – it’s accordingly more shocking for us to think that the conspiracy like the one described in the book could be possible in Sweden. To be honest, though, I do feel that there are elements in this book – as with its predecessor – which are not really plausible: for instance, the notion that Salander could be controlling events from her hospital bed; for all that we are prepared to accept about her, that really strains credulity.

‘She almost becomes a kind of Moriarty figure, although admittedly you don’t think such things at the time of reading. I know for a fact that much that she does in the technological sense is actually within the realms of possibility, but Larsson doesn’t really quite get us to buy it. When we are enjoying a writer, as here, we don’t need much persuasion to take on board a lot of very fairly outrageous premises, but we do have to be given the basic building blocks. In Ian Rankin’s novel
The Complaints
, for instance, there is a great deal about surveillance, but Ian allows us to accept everything in the book that he talks about. He gives us enough information and detail to allow us to buy everything we read about. I’m not saying that Stieg Larsson doesn’t do that – he’s a very persuasive writer – but we are obliged to go some distance with him to take on board premises that he throws at us.