This post isn't going to focus on Ragtime. Sorry. I needed a break from Doctorow's post-modernist head and confusing time and space jumps. I wanted something clear and fairly straightforward; I wanted a book that I knew what was going to happen, but was still enjoyable no matter how many times I reread it. I turned to Steig Larsson's The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. I turned to one of the best examples of post-modern fiction of the decade. (Please forgive me, this is going to be quite a long post, and may not make much sense to those who haven't read the series.)
It took about three chapters for me to realize that I was never going to be able to look at this book the same way. It was in the middle of an examination of Blomqvist's massive court case that I realized that dammit, Larsson had freaking made up a multi-international corporate empire known as Wennerström Enterprises. You can't just do that! The book literally pivots on the egregious crimes that Wennerström has committed and there are several chapters dedicated solely to picking apart how this corporation functions and specifically what parts of its operations are being scrutinized. And what works so well about making up this corporation is that for American audiences we know next to nothing about Swedish business.
I mean, yes of course we get the idea that this industry isn't real. But we've been so intimately involved in it that there is a part of us thinking "God, you can't make this stuff up. Somewhere there has to be some massive business we can substitute in for this fake one and we'll see that all of these crimes have actually been committed!" It feels too real to be fake, and Larsson's previous endeavors in the field of political journalism certainly help to bolster these fictional accusations that he makes.
Then there is the post-modernist idea of thinking on a global scale while acting on a local one. There is nothing more perfect than this. Much of the novel focuses on the small village of Hedeby. There, Blomqvist and his private researcher, Salander, begin to uncover a string of horrendous murders that took place both in the village and in the surrounding areas. Okay, act locally-- check. But these murders are called into question by the sheer anti-semitism of them. They're all literal but warped interpretations of passages of Leviticus, calling into question religious-fanaticism. Better yet, several members of a prestigious family (some of the suspects) were deeply involved in Nazism during the Second World War, and you can't get more global than that. It's the same matter as with Younger Brother or Coalhouse-- who's to say these things didn't happen?
The globalization really takes off in the second and third books, when Larsson goes above and beyond in making things up. He creates a small branch of government that "technically does not exist" and yet is able to function in any number of illegal ways and quietly manipulate most aspects of Swedish international security. There are no records of it, and apparently the Prime Minister didn't even know it existed (at least until s*** hits the fan, or basically the entire plot of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest). Way to cover your butt, Larsson. It's ridiculous and completely over the top, and yet it plays so much on our 21st century distrust in political policy that it works. I wouldn't be surprised if people didn't at least consider scrutinizing Swedish policy in the aftermath of the book. And again, as an American audience, who are we to question this? Honestly, can you say that you know how Swedish government works?
There are still a lot of unformed ideas in my head that I may or may not continue writing about later. In the meantime though, I think I'll sit on my bed glaring at the trilogy (and two graphic novels) trying to decide if I want to continue the series for the fifth time. Thanks so much postmodernism; now that I've been intimately acquainted with you, I don't know if my relationship with Lisbeth Salander will ever be quite the same.
No comments:
Post a Comment