Literary phenomena, by their very nature, are slowly fading into obscurity. Whether it be due to declining interests in literacy, debasement of subject matter or simple the death of the printed word, more often than not the passion to grab a book and read it cover to cover seems to have dissipated from our cultural reality.
When such a work comes along which makes the reader put their life on pause for the duration of the narrative, we may question the content of said work. In the case of the last work I can think of, the ongoing “Twilight” series by Stephanie Meyer, what was produced and vaunted by tweens and soccer moms the world over left much to be desired in the greater literary community. What has succeeded Meyer’s series may be the most socially conscious group of novels to arise to such worldwide fervor since religious texts were made on Gutenberg’s press.
Enter Stieg Larsson. The erstwhile editor of Swedish geopolitical anti-racist magazine, Larsson wrote the “Millenium” trilogy and outlined up to seven more novels in the series before his untimely death at 50 in 2004 after a massive heart attack. Throughout his career of three decades in the political investigative journalism sphere, Larsson built a reputation as an unerring, ethical man whose work often yielded death threats and more than likely factored into his early demise. However, his fictional prose and its dual protagonists read much like an amplified version of Larsson’s life in the news biz.
The story of hacker Lisbeth Salander and bumbling but vigilant reporter Mikael Blomkvist seems odd to have sold millions of copies worldwide. After all, the series’s underlying theme is one of gender equality, most notably in terms of physicality. Salander, though pint-sized at 4-foot-1 and 90 pounds, can tackle a brute who weighs three times as much and stands nearly two feet taller. Her mind, one of the main topics of discussion throughout the trilogy, is razor sharp and juggles such complex ideas as industrial computer codes and Fermat’s Last Theorum to Mensa symbology exercises with equal finesse and largesse. In short, Salander is a genius in the body of a caustic punk whom society would deem incompetent.
What makes Larsson’s work so phenomenal on a level beyond its sales and popularity lies in the casually excogitative conversations and plot structures that range from gender violence, post-Soviet European economic trends, Internet piracy and the sex trade in the Eastern bloc. While readers bite their nails in pursuit of the numerous boogie men of the trilogy, they are also digesting a plethora of astounding facts on many different levels, and if unwittingly entering into social conversations which may have escaped their knowledge previously.
As a caveat, rabid readers who take the time to dig a little dirt probably know that much of a fourth novel exists, yet hangs in limbo due to a dispute between Larsson’s biological family and Eva Gabrielsson, his girlfriend and life partner of 30 years. Due to Larsson’s inflammatory dedication to breaking the truth, he refused to marry his girlfriend for her safety. At the time of his death, the first three novels had already been given to a publisher, while roughly 70 percent of the fourth lay in Gabrielsson’s laptop. The legal battles that ensued due to Gabrielsson’s lack of binding familial status with Larsson have put an indefinite seizure on the fourth piece. But this reporter predicts that as with anything valuable, if it can be sold, some agreement will be made.
Would a person of Larsson’s reputation want a piece of his canon finished by a third party or released unfinished? That answered is unobtainable, but as a fan of the man’s work, I can only hope that someone of social valor can step up to the plate and take on the helm of the man and his already terrific work.
