The adventures of Lisbeth Salander, a brooding 23 year old hacker babe, with a murky and disturbing past, have set pop culture ablaze for close to a decade now. I mean, darn, snagging Daniel Craig for the U.S. film: kind of enuf said, no?
This has become a true pop culture cottage industry - with three books (a fourth on the way), films in both Swedish and English, a TV miniseries and graphic novels. The allure of this cottage industry, generally recognized as The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series (or, in some circles, the Millennium trilogy), is not only in the quirky protagonist. The perhaps even stranger tale of the originating creator, Stieg Larsson, has something to do with the series' popularity.
In Larsson's story one discovers a narrative rich with irony: where everything is "just before." Just before being crowned a mega-successful novelist, Larsson was a prominent crusader, battling what he saw as insidious tumors of Fascism and plutocracy festering in Swedish society. And, just before his novels' mega-success, and the resulting mega-personal fortune, he inconveniently died.
This poses two questions to the inquiring mind. First, if he had lived, would he have remained quite as suspicious of wealth as a marker of evil? And, second, might the prior two facts be related?
On this latter question, there has been some considerable speculation. Larsson seems earlyish in life to have embraced Communism and that creed has always had something of the conspiratorial about it. So it isn't surprising that much of the 80s and 90s for him were dedicated to uncovering the cabal of right wing plotters and crypto-Aryans.
He eventually created a foundation and magazine, which he would also edit, called Expo, dedicated to ferreting out these blackguards and villains. Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt such people exist, I just think that their influence on the actual world is far less than either they or their avowed foes suppose.
And, for the record, I certainly do not accept that Larsson's death by "heart attack" (as some insist on putting it) on the "anniversary" (my scare quotes) of Kristallnacht means anything. This is just the conspiratorial mind out of control. Now, I grant you, if they'd waited to whack him in 2008; that would have been 70 years since the original night of broken glass. I mean, 70s years. Now, that would be meaningful, right? I mean, it must mean something? Right? Excuse my sarcasm; perhaps you get my point?
Despite my disregard for conspiracy theory, though, strictly from the vantage point of entertainment marketing, Larsson's obsession with extreme right plotters enabled his literary legacy to cash-in big time, providing the sinister milieu for his bestselling and cinematically adapted books. Weirdly, this political paranoia seems to have at least as much currency in America.
The plots and debauchery of Larsson's crypto-fascists and aspiring plutocrats (though, really, one ought to explain actual Nazi economic policy to the Larsson's of the world) provide the fodder for his super-hero, girl of all trades, Lisbeth Salander. She wields her photographic memory, chess-like strategic mind, mathematical talents that would make Godel weep, and hacker skills that make a mockery of computer security at any bank or police department, to bring down the blackguards and villains, along with her trusty journalist sidekick, Mikael Blomkvist. Indeed, in one of the sequels, it appears that returning from the dead may need to be added to her "remarkable abilities" inventory.
Okay, it is all a bit far-fetched. But whatever stretches of suspended disbelief (or plausible deniability) Larsson may ask of us, the protagonists and their virtuous mission makes for fun reading and viewing. And, hey, there's no success like market success.
It just goes to prove that even a paranoid commie can brush the zeitgeist and hit the jackpot. Probably best though to not ponder too closely what that says about the rest of us.
This has become a true pop culture cottage industry - with three books (a fourth on the way), films in both Swedish and English, a TV miniseries and graphic novels. The allure of this cottage industry, generally recognized as The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series (or, in some circles, the Millennium trilogy), is not only in the quirky protagonist. The perhaps even stranger tale of the originating creator, Stieg Larsson, has something to do with the series' popularity.
In Larsson's story one discovers a narrative rich with irony: where everything is "just before." Just before being crowned a mega-successful novelist, Larsson was a prominent crusader, battling what he saw as insidious tumors of Fascism and plutocracy festering in Swedish society. And, just before his novels' mega-success, and the resulting mega-personal fortune, he inconveniently died.
This poses two questions to the inquiring mind. First, if he had lived, would he have remained quite as suspicious of wealth as a marker of evil? And, second, might the prior two facts be related?
On this latter question, there has been some considerable speculation. Larsson seems earlyish in life to have embraced Communism and that creed has always had something of the conspiratorial about it. So it isn't surprising that much of the 80s and 90s for him were dedicated to uncovering the cabal of right wing plotters and crypto-Aryans.
He eventually created a foundation and magazine, which he would also edit, called Expo, dedicated to ferreting out these blackguards and villains. Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt such people exist, I just think that their influence on the actual world is far less than either they or their avowed foes suppose.
And, for the record, I certainly do not accept that Larsson's death by "heart attack" (as some insist on putting it) on the "anniversary" (my scare quotes) of Kristallnacht means anything. This is just the conspiratorial mind out of control. Now, I grant you, if they'd waited to whack him in 2008; that would have been 70 years since the original night of broken glass. I mean, 70s years. Now, that would be meaningful, right? I mean, it must mean something? Right? Excuse my sarcasm; perhaps you get my point?
Despite my disregard for conspiracy theory, though, strictly from the vantage point of entertainment marketing, Larsson's obsession with extreme right plotters enabled his literary legacy to cash-in big time, providing the sinister milieu for his bestselling and cinematically adapted books. Weirdly, this political paranoia seems to have at least as much currency in America.
The plots and debauchery of Larsson's crypto-fascists and aspiring plutocrats (though, really, one ought to explain actual Nazi economic policy to the Larsson's of the world) provide the fodder for his super-hero, girl of all trades, Lisbeth Salander. She wields her photographic memory, chess-like strategic mind, mathematical talents that would make Godel weep, and hacker skills that make a mockery of computer security at any bank or police department, to bring down the blackguards and villains, along with her trusty journalist sidekick, Mikael Blomkvist. Indeed, in one of the sequels, it appears that returning from the dead may need to be added to her "remarkable abilities" inventory.
Okay, it is all a bit far-fetched. But whatever stretches of suspended disbelief (or plausible deniability) Larsson may ask of us, the protagonists and their virtuous mission makes for fun reading and viewing. And, hey, there's no success like market success.
It just goes to prove that even a paranoid commie can brush the zeitgeist and hit the jackpot. Probably best though to not ponder too closely what that says about the rest of us.
About the Author:
To follow developments in the Stieg Larsson posthumous empire, you need to follow Mickey Jhonny's writing on the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo blog. Mickey's latest writing includes a provocative review of the Michael Apted's remarkable 7 Up documentary series for Best Documentaries on Netflix -- you don't want to miss it!
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