by Stieg Larsson
I’m a longtime fan of this blog, so I’m excited to be a guest blogger here. I’ve never been a guest blogger before, and I hope I don’t spill food on the carpet. But now that I’m here, I want to talk about The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the first installment of Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy.
Published posthumously in 2005, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was an international smash hit. It sold 15 million copies in the US and spawned two well known films, one featuring James freaking Bond. Even before reading it, I knew this series was a big deal. Having read the first two novels, and preparing to start the third, its easy to see why.
Dragon Tattoo’s plot begins when wealthy industrialist Henrik Vanger summons crusading journalist Mikael Blomkvist to his family’s private island in Sweden. He hires Blomkvist to live on the island and investigate the decades old murder of his beloved niece, Harriet. After a while, Blomkvist teams up with anti-social researcher Lisbeth Salander, and together they search for answers in a web of corruption, brutality and horrible familial relationships. To top it off several of the Vangers are former Nazis, in case all of that wasn’t twisted enough for you.
Larsson begins the novel at a crawl, which is why almost anybody who has read the book will tell you about its lengthy exposition (for the record, I actually enjoyed the exposition). He gives a crash course in Swedish politics and economics, as well as a detailed history of the horribly demented Vanger family. Then, he makes us study the lead characters, Blomkvist and Salander, illustrating their backgrounds, personalities and motivations. Eventually, this meticulous setup gives way to a crime drama so captivating that you’ll be unable to stop reading it.
Larsson refuses to give us the bulk of the plot until we understand Dragon Tattoo’s two leads and world they occupy. Blomkvist and Salander do not meet until halfway through the novel, and the narration alternates between them as their paths gradually converge. It is an unusual but effective narrative trick, one that makes their collaboration feel like a seismic event that launches the story into overdrive. We know they will join forces, but watching the pieces fall into place is nonetheless captivating. And once they come together, all the reader can do is hang on for dear life.
I thought the novel’s strengths came from its lead characters. Blomkvist is a righteous man in a dark world, following the truth at all costs, cracking unsolvable puzzles and seducing almost every woman with whom he exchanges words. Larsson was a journalist himself, and Blomkvist seems like Larsson’s personal ideal. I remember being amused that Daniel Craig, in all his Bondian majesty, was chosen to plan a journalist. By the end of the book, I felt like he was the only choice. If James Bond had inexplicably gone to journalism school, he would’ve been Mikael Blomkvist. He’s an excellent lead character in every way.
I found Salander even more compelling. She comes from a broken home and horrible circumstance, but survives on the strength of her intellect and guile. She refuses to play nice with anybody, but does so in a way that doesn’t feel contrived. I spent most of the novel trying to understand her, eventually sympathizing with her and rooting for her. Salander is the eponymous Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and as Larsson reveals more and more of her character, I came to realize she, not Blomkvist, is the moral center of the story. She and Blomkvist often reach the same moral conclusions, but Salander does so in a much more interesting way. They complement each other in the strangest ways, and it’s impossible not to admire their characterizations.
The novel’s third central character is Sweden itself. Larsson pulls back the curtain of universal healthcare and high quality of life and scrutinizes every hole in Sweden’s fabric. He condemns the systemic misogyny, the shortcomings of the welfare system and the corruption of some of Europe’s model industries. He even weaves a fierce critique of the global financial system into the novel’s final act. Had he been alive when the market crashed in 2008, Larsson would’ve no doubt been among the first to say he told us so.
Somehow, Larsson takes this detailed characterization, meticulous exposition and pointed social criticism and weaves it into an intense, mesmerizing novel. It’s startlingly violent in spots, but each instance feels like a necessary piece of the lurid puzzle Larsson is creating. Many of its characters seem to serve no purpose other than to advance the plot, but Salander and Blomkvist are such dynamic and compelling leads that I didn’t even care. And without spoiling it, I can assure you that the novel’s final act is harrowing and well designed. All said, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo made me eagerly anticipate the rest of the trilogy, even if it makes me never want to live in Sweden.
It’s dark, intense and violent, but The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is an immersive and well-crafted saga with two captivating characters at its center.