The tales of Lisbeth Salander, the 23 year old hacker girl, with the dark past and temperament, has been on a role for nearly a decade now. And heck, if you can snag Daniel Craig for the U.S. film, you're rolling in the big time, sweetie.
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 the second question, popular speculation has rather run rampant. Young in life Larsson signed on as a true follower of the Communist cause. And Communism has a long history of the conspiratorial temperament: both in its machinations and worldview. It hardly ought to be surprising then that much of the 80s and 90s saw Larsson embroiled in unveiling the alleged skullduggery of neo-fascists, plutocrats and assorted crypto-Aryans.
Toward the end of exposing these villains, Larsson established a foundation and magazine, which he also edited, dedicated to the cause. I don't want to be misunderstood, here: I'm not denying that these kinds of people exist. What I am denying is that they're of any importance. Rather, the real conspiracy to my mind is the conspiracy between such plotters and their avowed foes (such as Larsson), to pretend that they're of great historical importance. That way everyone involved get's to bask in delusions of awesome self-importance. I'm quite confident that the next time barbarism descends on the West there'll be no jackboots or swastikas anywhere in sight.
And, no, the fact that Larsson died of "a heart attack" on the "anniversary" of Kristallnacht doesn't strike me as especially compelling evidence of anything. Now, if they'd waited until 2008 to execute this KGB-style hit, celebrating the...what...70 year anniversary? I mean, 70 years would be symbolic, right? Of something? I'm sure. 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.
Perhaps there's a lesson in this (perhaps even one from which Larsson might have benefited): even a paranoid old commie can tickle the zeitgeist and crack open the jackpot. Though it may be wise for the rest of us to not ponder too carefully what the popularity of such paranoia says about 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 the second question, popular speculation has rather run rampant. Young in life Larsson signed on as a true follower of the Communist cause. And Communism has a long history of the conspiratorial temperament: both in its machinations and worldview. It hardly ought to be surprising then that much of the 80s and 90s saw Larsson embroiled in unveiling the alleged skullduggery of neo-fascists, plutocrats and assorted crypto-Aryans.
Toward the end of exposing these villains, Larsson established a foundation and magazine, which he also edited, dedicated to the cause. I don't want to be misunderstood, here: I'm not denying that these kinds of people exist. What I am denying is that they're of any importance. Rather, the real conspiracy to my mind is the conspiracy between such plotters and their avowed foes (such as Larsson), to pretend that they're of great historical importance. That way everyone involved get's to bask in delusions of awesome self-importance. I'm quite confident that the next time barbarism descends on the West there'll be no jackboots or swastikas anywhere in sight.
And, no, the fact that Larsson died of "a heart attack" on the "anniversary" of Kristallnacht doesn't strike me as especially compelling evidence of anything. Now, if they'd waited until 2008 to execute this KGB-style hit, celebrating the...what...70 year anniversary? I mean, 70 years would be symbolic, right? Of something? I'm sure. 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.
Perhaps there's a lesson in this (perhaps even one from which Larsson might have benefited): even a paranoid old commie can tickle the zeitgeist and crack open the jackpot. Though it may be wise for the rest of us to not ponder too carefully what the popularity of such paranoia says about us.
About the Author:
To keep taps on the latest in the Stieg Larsson posthumous empire, you need to read Mickey Jhonny's writing on the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo blog. Mickey's latest writing includes an insightful review of the Michael Apted's amazing 7 Up documentary series for Best Documentaries on Netflix -- you don't want to miss it!
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