One of the major literary sensations of the early century was Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy, which was a phenomenon of infinite complexity and yet known mostly for the general character of Lisbeth Salander. It is in fact safe to say that the general reading public that bought these books up paid little attention to anything but Salander.
Larsson’s ambitions covered everything from the state of Sweden to investigative journalism, hacking, the lingering effects of geopolitical intrigue, biking clubs, and last and most importantly violence against women. The successor trilogy written by David Lagercrantz tackled this legacy ably, while centering the storytelling on breakout character Salander and concluding her efforts to find personal justice.
Earlier this year I became aware that there was another attempt to revisit Larsson’s work, a comic book called The Girl Who Danced with Death, written by Sylvain Runberg, who had also written one of several graphic novel adaptations of Larsson’s books.
As only the second person to tackle original material based on Larsson’s work, Runberg had a tall task ahead of him. I’m not sure he succeeded, but he was certainly ambitious.
His story takes place in the Trump era (clearly he’s okay with fudging the Salander timeline, which originally began unfolding more than a decade before Trump’s election). Runberg also tackles the media leaks from the likes of Assange and Snowden, sort of recontextualizing Salander’s hacker interests. I would need to revisit Larsson and Lagercrantz, but it seems, at least to me, to be an aberration. If this were a goal of hers, it would seem she’d always be far more interested in working openly with Millennium magazine.
Anyway, the results are rapid (originally playing out in the span of three issues), not overly complex (which is the opposite of how Larsson and Lagercrantz tended to write), though covering thematic ground that at least feels connective, which is why I will say they’re worth considering in the overall legacy. Not essential by any means, and I would feel quite uncomfortable if anyone put forth the argument that Runberg truly grasps the material, the challenge left by Larsson to expose what so often feels as if the mainstream would vastly prefer to ignore, bury, dismiss, obfuscate, belittle, downplay…He doesn’t get any of that. At the heart of Larsson and Lagercrantz is the belief that these stories are about the people, like Salander, who have a chance to be something other than the victim, if things play out differently, if journalism truly does exist that looks out for them.
Runberg gets the surface elements down, what the general reading public was amused by, fascinated by, and then discarded and forgot, moving on to material that means less even as the world around it spirals ever deeper into matters Larsson and Lagercrantz wanted desperately to avoid, as these same readers lament this state but have no idea the complicity with which they help create it.
Something about a girl like Lisbeth Salander, if we just stopped turning away. She’s the accident we pass on the road, and forget all about later. Telling her stories is an attempt to change that. Someone like Runberg doesn’t get that, but at least he’s still reminding us that she exists.