The Man Who Left Too Soon Page 9
After the striking introduction of Lisbeth Salander, Larsson does not waste much time in introducing us to the character who will share the narrative with her, and who is in many ways a surrogate figure for the author himself. Arriving at work one day in a T-shirt with a picture of Steven Spielberg’s ET transformed into a fanged monster, Salander is to attend a meeting with a client, Dirch Frode, a lawyer who has made a point of meeting the member of the firm who has prepared a report he requested. Despite Armansky’s best attempts, the meeting takes place, with Frode (a man in his late sixties) looking at Lisbeth Salander with undisguised surprise. She has placed a folder labelled ‘Carl Mikael Blomkvist’ on Armansky’s desk.
It is in this chapter that Larsson introduces another element that is to be a leitmotif throughout the novel: the difficulty which people with more ‘normal’ lives find in dealing with Lisbeth Salander. This can be read in two ways: firstly, that she does not care how she affects people – which is certainly the rationale we are most likely to accept – but, secondly, it may be pointed out that she is far too intelligent not to know how people will react to her appearance, and this could all be part of a strategy for gaining a kind of advantage in a world that she sees as threatening and unsympathetic. Salander begins a dispassionate account of her findings with regard to Blomkvist, and readers who pick up the novel knowing that it is the first part of a trilogy will be intrigued by her cool response to the man who we know will be the most important ally she is to have. She points out that it has not been a particularly complicated assignment, finding out things about him, such as the fact that he is 43, being born in 1960, and that both his parents are dead. He has a sister some years younger than him who is a lawyer. He graduated from Blomma with decent marks, and played bass in a rock band (even putting out a single) before travelling abroad, hitching his way around India and Thailand before finding his way to Australia. He had begun to study to be a journalist in Stockholm in his twenties but then did military service in Lapland. Since then he has completed his journalism degree.
As the client listens attentively, Salander compares him to Practical Pig in the ‘Three Little Pigs’: he is an excellent journalist, with many temporary jobs, and his first big, attention-grabbing story was about bank robbers he identified, the Bear Gang. It was here that he got the nickname that he so hates, ‘Kalle’ Blomkvist (the name, from the children’s books of Astrid Lindgren, leads to another reference – the first in the book – to Pippi Longstocking. Salander says she would greet such nicknames with violence).
Armansky is thinking at that moment that Pippi Longstocking is exactly how he has always thought of Salander. Blomkvist’s original intention was to be a crime reporter, but he seems to have ended up as a political and financial specialist. He now works for a monthly magazine called Millennium, with its editorial offices a few blocks from Armansky’s company. It is a left-wing magazine; Salander says it is generally viewed as critical of society, but is held in contempt by anarchists, who do not take it seriously, while more moderate students regard it as a Bolshevist mouthpiece. Salander points out that there are no indications that Blomkvist himself has ever been politically active, even during his secondary school phase when such affiliations were de rigueur. He has always, it seems, been devoted to journalism, even when living with a girl who was active in the Syndicalists, who today is a member of parliament on the Left. Salander points out that he has been identified as left-wing simply because his prime targets are corruption and double-dealing in the corporate world, with some of those in his sights being among the most prestigious names in politics and business – and that drawing attention to such matters is hardly an indication of left-wing political sympathies. She also notes that he has written two books and is not rich but is relatively comfortably off.
At this juncture in the novel, not for the last time, art imitates life. Salander notes that Blomkvist is part owner of the magazine Millennium, and that any money he is obliged to pay out because of various settlements will cripple him – it is impossible not to see echoes of Larsson’s own sometimes parlous state when working for Expo, which similarly took on unpopular causes. After the legal judgement against him, Salander decides that Blomkvist has really made a fool of himself, and then she allows herself a direct comment on the Wennerström affair, noting that she has followed the trial and is surprised that Blomkvist published something that was so ill-advised and, as she puts it, off the wall. She believes that Blomkvist was set up.
Those who have re-read the Millennium Trilogy after their first acquaintance with this initial book will be struck by the phrase ‘set up’ – almost a game plan for all three books, with Salander being comprehensively set up again and again. At this point, however, she is standing outside events, and commenting coolly on the luckless Blomkvist. Her reason for believing him to be innocent is the extreme care with which she treats each case, which leads her to suppose that he may be right about Wennerström, who has acted, it seems, dishonestly. So far, Larsson has not revealed the interest of the client Frode in the affair, but the latter now asks if the trio are speaking in confidence. After Armansky nods assent, Frode says that he knows that without any shadow of a doubt Wennerström has acted dishonestly in certain other circumstances, and he, Frode, has a pronounced interest in the legal judgement against Blomkvist.
This strikes Armansky as slightly alarming, as his company is being required to look into a case that has already been concluded. He knows perfectly well that Wennerström has an army of solicitors who will descend on him en masse, and he is particularly aware that utilising Salander (who is, to put it mildly, the loosest of cannons) in such a scenario could potentially be disastrous. On the other hand, she has said that she requires no special treatment or protection, and was not to be given any special privileges. However, Armansky replies that such an investigation could become very expensive, but Frode is already, it seems, convinced of Salander’s competence.
She agrees, without much enthusiasm, to look into Blomkvist’s case. She notes that his private life is unexceptional. He was married with a daughter, but the couple were divorced and the daughter hardly ever sees her father. However, Frode learns something more about Blomkvist from Salander: she tells him that he is something of a ladies’ man, with a succession of love affairs and many one-night stands. There is one particular relationship that seems to be a steady presence: Erika Berger, who is the editor-in-chief at Millennium. She is an upper-crust woman (with a Belgian father and Swedish mother). The two met while studying journalism, and have enjoyed a casual relationship over the years. She, however, is married to an artist who appears complacent about the relationship and the affair appears to be a contributing factor to the ending of Blomkvist’s marriage.
Readers encountering Stieg Larsson for the first time with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo will have realised by Chapter 3 that one of his specialities is to pay out chunks of information which are then expanded on when appropriate. And having introduced Erika Berger in the text, Larsson presents us with the woman herself in the third chapter. Blomkvist, shivering from cold, enters the editorial offices of Millennium, and talks to her. We learn that he is not in a good place. Leaving aside the legal disaster which has just befallen him, we discover that the magazine is living beyond its means, and that the rent on its offices (in the fashionable district of Götgatan above the offices of Greenpeace) is a little too steep for the magazine. The couple glumly discuss the bad news of the judgement which has gone against Blomkvist, and Erika mentions someone else involved: Christer, the art director and designer of Millennium, is also a part-owner of the magazine, along with Erika and Blomkvist.
Blomkvist suggests that Christer may have to take over as publisher, and again we are reminded of the real-life decisions that Larsson himself would have had to have made, working on the staff of a magazine which risked legal entanglements. Erika persuades Blomkvist that he needs to stay on, as he is essential to the running of the magazine, and it’s difficult not
to see a certain wish fulfilment on Larsson’s own part (in the sense that he would desire to be similarly missed from any magazine he might be involved in).
The couple end their discussion by deciding to forget their problems in a relaxing sexual encounter. After they have made love, Blomkvist finds himself thinking about this unconventional relationship that he is part of, not the old-fashioned kind which leads to love, a home shared together, children, and so forth. Once again, it is clear to see that the life that the author chose for himself is reflected in his protagonist. Erika, however, is a sympathiser with this point of view, which possibly echoes Larsson’s relationship with Eva Gabrielsson, and as Millennium is their mutual creation, it might be read as something of a surrogate child for the couple. Certainly, they lavish a great deal of love and dedication on the magazine. A press release is prepared in which it is pointed out that the journalist Mikael Blomkvist will be leaving his post as publisher of the magazine Millennium. Erika feels that the magazine will survive and not be affected by his voluntary stepping down. He persuades her that it is time to take a step backwards, but promises that some day they will be able to prove their allegations about Wennerström – and they will create a furore on Wall Street.
By now we have the classic scenario of the protagonist somewhat cut adrift and on the receiving end of an unjust accusation. The stage is set for Blomkvist to be handed the most significant assignment of his career. And it happens while he is cleaning out his desk at the office of Millennium. The phone rings and it is the lawyer Dirch Frode who tells Blomkvist that he is representing a client who is anxious to contact him for a talk. Unusual conditions are given. It is pointed out to Blomkvist that the client would like to be visited in Hedestad, which is three hours away by train. Blomkvist begins to be suspicious and makes it clear that he is not interested. But then he is told the name of Frode’s client: no one less than Henrik Vanger. This information takes Blomkvist by surprise, as it is the name of a powerful industrialist with a massive portfolio of interests in a family-owned company. His interest aroused, Blomkvist asks why Vanger wants a meeting – is a press secretary required, perhaps? He is told that he will hear more when he visits Hedestad, with (naturally) all expenses paid. Blomkvist decides that it is necessary to tell the lawyer something that he is not sure the latter knows: the disgrace that has followed the decision in the Wennerström affair. But rather than being a disincentive, this, according to Frode, is precisely the reason why Herr Vanger has contacted him.
At this stage, Larsson has intrigued the reader sufficiently with narrative possibilities for his male protagonist, so that we are now able to move to the company of Lisbeth Salander who is spending Christmas Eve at a nursing home in Upplands – Väsby. She is gazing at the woman she knows as her mother, thinking (not for the first time) that they bear no physical resemblance to each other. The woman, confused and ill-focused after being given a present, says, ‘Thank you, Camilla.’ To which Salander replies, ‘Lisbeth. I’m Lisbeth.’
Blomkvist similarly spends time with his family, who largely avoid discussing the verdict which has gone against him, but he is now intrigued by his meeting with Frode, even though he has considered cancelling it. He asks Frode if the invitation bears any relation to Wennerström, to which he receives the reply that Herr Vanger is most definitely not a friend of the man who has won the judgement against Blomkvist. Frode drives Blomkvist along frozen roads for his meeting with Vanger, which lead to an isolated island.
Henrik Vanger lives in the family’s stone-built farmhouse, and on entering, Blomkvist encounters a remarkably youthful-looking 82-year-old man with a weathered face and thick grey hair. He is made to feel welcome and Frode takes his leave. Blomkvist, the eternal journalist, reaches into his pocket as his new acquaintance begins to talk and turns on a tape recorder. He has not formed a conception of what Vanger wants, but has learnt to be ultra-cautious on such occasions. Vanger assures him after the preliminaries that he will get to the point, and the couple move to a massive, imposing office lined with a remarkable collection of books. Vanger shows him a picture of a strikingly attractive young woman with dark hair, and asks (using Blomkvist’s first name) whether he remembers her. And, for that matter whether he remembers being in this room before.
Blomkvist replies that he doesn’t, and is told that the photograph is that of Harriet Vanger, the granddaughter of his host’s brother Richard. She looked after him when he was two years old and she was 13. Blomkvist admits to having no idea whether this is the truth or not. But more photographs are produced, showing Blomkvist’s parents (he is struck by the fact that his mother is clearly pregnant – with his sister). It becomes clear that Vanger knows much about Blomkvist and his family and has followed his career as a journalist on Millennium, which he claims to read. Blomkvist decides that it is time to ask him what it is that he requires.
This is the moment where the novel most resembles one of the authors that Stieg Larsson read (and who so impressed him) – the American master of the detective novel, Raymond Chandler. This meeting with an elderly client is reminiscent of (among other books) The Big Sleep, and if Larsson lacks Chandler’s nonpareil skills at evoking character, there is no question that he has the reader comprehensively engaged at this point. Vanger points out that he would like to make an agreement with Blomkvist. He says that he will tell him a story in two parts, the first about the Vanger family and the second part will address his objective. Blomkvist will be surprised at what he hears and may even doubt the sanity of what he is being told. But by this point the journalist is thoroughly engaged. What he says, however, is designed to expedite matters. He points out that he has been in the house for 20 minutes and says that he will allow 30 minutes more before calling a taxi and going home.
Vanger is not fooled; he is aware that the journalist is without a job and undoubtedly in dire financial straits. He talks about Martin Vanger, who currently runs the Vanger Corporation – and sums him up in relatively unenthusiastic terms. It’s a family company, but the 30 family members are (as Vanger perceives it) both the strength and the weakness of the organisation. He makes it clear that he particularly despises most of the members of his family – and regards them as crooks, bullies and incompetents.
Then Vanger gets to the main issue: the assignment he wants Blomkvist to take on. Vanger tells Blomkvist that he wants to commission him to write a biography of the Vanger family (which may be called his own auto-biography, that is to say Henrik Vanger’s), and for this he will put all his journals and archives at Blomkvist’s disposal. He also makes it clear that there is to be no whitewash. All skeletons in closets may be dragged into the light. Blomkvist is intrigued by the fact that his host is not concerned with ultimate publication. He says that his motive is a simple one: revenge. Vanger explains that his name is synonymous with honour. He is a man who is true to his word, and he is particularly disgusted by the behaviour of his relatives, which is, as he perceives it, one of the reasons the company is experiencing such difficulties in the present. Blomkvist says he is not interested, pointing out that it would take many months and that he lacks either the impetus or the physical resources, but Vanger is not prepared to give up and suggests that he approaches the assignment with the unforgiving eyes of a journalist. But then he drops the bombshell.
Vanger’s clandestine agenda is the solving of a mystery, which is Blomkvist’s real mission. This particular plot point has been reserved by Larsson till nearly a sixth of the way into the book, and is rather similar to the sleight of hand displayed by such detective story masters as Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett: that is to say, introduce what appears to be the principal plot of the novel, but withhold the revelation of the real plot until somewhat later. Larsson is a master of this, and uses the tactic repeatedly throughout the three books of the Millennium Trilogy.
Vanger talks about his brother, the unpleasant Richard, who – at the age of 17 – was a fervent nationalist and an anti-Semite. He joined the Swedish Nati
onal Socialist Freedom League, which was one of the first attempts in Sweden to move into neo-Nazi territory. For those who read this book unaware of Stieg Larsson’s background, presumably this would have come across as simply a way of establishing a character’s negative aspects, but as many of Larsson’s readers are by now familiar with his days as an anti-Nazi journalist, it’s not hard to see the personal impulse behind this particular authorial choice.
Blomkvist is shown pictures of Richard with a variety of prominent Nazis, and Vanger remarks how (against the wishes of their father) he made contact with the Nazi groups in the country. Vanger enquires of Blomkvist how much he knows about the history of Swedish Nazism. The latter replies that he is not a historian but has read a few books – and what follows is a lengthy and fascinating discussion of some of the more ignoble aspects of Sweden’s involvement with Nazism (tied in, of course, to the fictional story of Richard Vanger). One of the strengths of the Millennium Trilogy is, of course, the way it ties in so specifically with the author’s own particular preoccupations, principally a combative engagement with the far Right, and it is intriguing to speculate how the ten-book sequence he was apparently planning might have progressed.
Certainly, within the confines of the trilogy, there is only intermittently a sense that Larsson is repeating himself in what might be described as his various hobbyhorses (the exploitation of women, extremist groups, etc), but it is probably true that had he lived, further books featuring Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist would have had to move into new territory to sustain the energy – rather in the fashion that the cult American TV series The Wire moved into such areas as politics and education to keep fresh for the writers and directors what had inspired them to create something innovative in the first place.