The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

“Lately, a new client group had arisen: affluent women seeking protection from former boyfriends or husbands or from stalkers…but not infrequently his business clients would drag in private problems that had a tendency to create unwelcome turmoil. I want to know to know what sort of creep my daughter is going out with…I think my wife is being unfaithful…Armansky often gave them a straightforward no.”

Armansky acknowledges two types of clients that seek Milton Security’s services: women who seek protection from men, and men who seek to monitor women. Both relate to the ways men assert power over women, and Armanksy’s “no” to the latter group reveals that he does not condone the ways men feel entitled to surveil women, regardless if they are daughters or wives. The two client types also highlight intimate partner violence and the class dynamics that afford “affluent women” options to seek protection but leave other women vulnerable. Larsson includes this small scene to reference the novel’s larger themes of misogyny and women’s agency.

“It was at Milton Security’s Christmas party one evening in December, and for once he was not sober. Nothing inappropriate had happened—he had just tried to tell her that he actually liked her. Most of all he wanted to explain that he felt protective towards her, and if she ever needed help with anything, she should not hesitate to come to him. He had even tried to give her a hug. All in friendliness, of course.

She had wriggled out of his clumsy embrace and left the party. After that she had not appeared at the office or answered her mobile.”

Larsson describes an encounter where Armansky makes a pass at Salander while he is drunk. The narrative is ironic, as, from Armansky’s point of view, he believes his actions are harmless. Oblivious to the inappropriateness of his behavior and the power he holds as her superior, he excuses his actions by insisting that “he actually liked her” and the hug was “[a]ll in friendliness, of course.” Salander, on the other hand, feels uncomfortable and leaves the party. She later confronts Armansky and tells him directly that she has no interest in having an affair with her married boss. The two come to an understanding, as Salander acknowledges that he has supported her growth at the company. Armansky learns to respect boundaries and promotes her as a freelance researcher with complete control over her work.

“’Everyone has secrets,’ she replied neutrally. ‘It’s just a matter of finding out what they are.’”

Salander’s troubled past leaves her with very few people in her life she can trust. However, distrust plays a distinct role in her success as an investigator, as no one is free from her scrutiny. Unlike Blomkvist, who tends to group people into categories of the ethical versus the corrupt, Salander takes a democratic approach and asserts that everyone has something to hide. Her statement is “neutral” since she not only refers to people who have done something illegal but also to people who rely on privacy for their protection. Indeed, the statement refers to her own secrets that she has not revealed to anyone.

“That’s his trust capital, so to speak. His image is to appear as the guardian of robust morality as opposed to the business world, and he is invited pretty regularly to pontificate on television.”

Blomkvist relies on his image as a credible journalist with the highest ethical standards. This “trust capital” is what gives him value in his professional career, especially since he juxtaposes himself against corruption. When he loses the libel case, he struggles to restore his damaged reputation. Salander’s characterization of him as a “guardian of robust morality” reflects Blomkvist’s moral idealism at the beginning of the novel; he is virtually an angel of good. By the end, Blomkvist struggles with moral ambiguity and his own betrayal of being a purveyor of truth.

“His contempt for his fellow financial journalists was based on something that in his opinion was as plain as morality. The equation was simple. A bank director who blows millions on foolhardy speculations should not keep his job. A managing director who plays shell company games should do time. A slum landlord who forces young people to pay through the nose and under the table for a one-room apartment with a shared toilet should be hung out to dry.”

Although Salander and Vanger characterize Blomkivist’s moral idealism as naïve, Blomkvist’s attack on financial corruption is persuasive and strategic. By framing corporate exploitation in simple terms of right and wrong, Blomkvist exposes how the logic of capitalism prioritizes profit margins over basic human rights. Blomkvist appeals to common decency, and his “plain” and “simple” language is a rhetorical device that challenges the type of legalese and obfuscating backdoor policies that many industries employ to legitimize their practices.

“In the center of Hedestad, snow clearing was in full swing, and Frode wove his careful way through the narrow streets. High banks of snow presented a picturesque contrast to Stockholm. The town seemed almost like another planet, yet he was only a little more than three hours from Sergels Torg in downtown Stockholm.”

The difference between the small town of Hedestad and the bustling city of Stockholm highlights the theme of false impressions and reverses assumptions of tradition and modernity. Hedestad is initially considered a place of natural beauty and quiet solitude. Blomkvist is attracted by the idea of getting away from the stress and urban bustle of Stockholm when he agrees to Vanger’s assignment. However, Larsson reverses the connotation of the charming small town. The scenic snowbanks lose their beauty when Blomkvist struggles to stay warm in the bare guesthouse. Most drastically, Hedestad is the site of multiple acts of brutality from at least three generations of Vangers. Tradition in Hedestad represents the perpetuation of crimes. Rather than experiencing peace, Blomkvist survives a harrowing, near-death experience in the small town.

“For a moment, the mask of the good-natured patriarch slipped, and Blomkvist could see the ruthless captain of industry from his days of power confronted by a setback. His mouth curled in a grim smile.”

Despite Henrik Vanger’s reputation as an ethical businessman, Blomkvist’s training as a financial reporter makes him attuned to the characteristics of competition and greed that lay behind the old man’s demeanor. Vanger may play the part of the benevolent employer, but he is also a man who always gets his way. For Blomkvist, Vanger’s offer to provide him with incriminating evidence against Wennerström represents a form of vindication and justice, but for Vanger himself, it is business as usual. Wennerström is just another competitor that he is more than willing to destroy.

“I detest most of the members of my family. They are for the most part thieves, misers, bullies, and incompetents. I ran the company for thirty-five years—almost all the time in the midst of relentless bickering. They were my worst enemies, far worse than competing companies or the government”

Throughout the novel, families are portrayed as being far from a protective environment. The theme of dysfunctional families addresses the ways that domestic violence and child abuse are minimized and unreported. Vanger despises his family more than his professional competitors, yet no one in his family faces consequences for their crimes. Salander also has a history of abuse from her family life, and as a youth, Harriet tries to keep up appearances that her family is normal. Cecilia likewise struggles with the stigma of an abusive family and marriage. By having Vanger characterize his family members as “enemies,” the novel addresses the taboo and silencing of domestic violence and child abuse as well as the assumption that perpetrators of violence are strangers.

“The article was written by a columnist who had previously worked for Monopoly Financial Magazine, making a name for himself as one who cheerfully ridiculed everyone who felt passionate about any issue or who stuck their necks out. Feminists, antiracists, environmental activists could all reckon on receiving their share. The writer was not known for espousing a single conviction of his own…Blomkvist…[was]…described as a complete idiot. Erika Berger was portrayed as an incompetent media bimbo.”

Blomkvist reads an article that attacks him and Berger from a writer known for his extreme, right-wing opinions. The scene highlights the rise of right-wing extremism in Sweden and the role the media plays in platforming their politics. The Monopoly Financial Magazine is a publication owned by Wennerström, connecting corporate corruption with right-wing beliefs of white supremacy, extreme Christianity, and sexism. Not incidentally, these beliefs are also held by some members of Vanger’s own family. The scene implicates the role of some corporations in funding right-wing extremism and foreshadows the subsequent ethical dilemma Blomkvist faces when he agrees to Vanger’s partnership in Millennium.

“I’ve had many enemies over the years. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s never engage in a fight you’re sure to lose. On the other hand, never let anyone who has insulted you get away with it. Bide your time and strike back when you’re in a position of strength—even if you no longer need to strike back.”

Vanger advises Blomkvist to wait for an opportune moment to strike back at Wennerström, and his statement emphasizes the theme of revenge in the novel. Vanger himself wishes to avenge Harriet’s murder, and Blomkvist sorely wishes to recover his credibility and return to Millennium in full force against Wennerström. Vanger’s advice also mirrors Salander’s own assessment of her enemies in Chapter 12. She states how she never forgets an injustice and always gets revenge. Vanger’s advice foreshadows Salander’s revenge on Bjurman and Wennerström. The final line about striking “even if you no longer need to strike back” is particularly applicable to Wennerström. Already defeated and in hiding from Blomkvist’s exposé, Salander remembers the woman that Wennerström abused and chooses to strip him of his finances and incite his murder.

“Gottfried Vanger died childless in 1901. Or rather, may I be forgiven, he was the father of four daughters, but in those days women didn’t really count. They owned shares, but it was the men in the family who constituted the ownership interest. It wasn’t until women won the right to vote, well into the twentieth century, that they were even allowed to attend the shareholders’ meetings.”

Larsson uses Vanger’s outdated language to emphasize how the fight for women’s agency still exists in the present despite over a century of reforms. Vanger follows his correction that women “didn’t really count” with the rationalization that laws were not in place to change the family’s own practices. His logic assumes that unequal rights are legitimate until legislation changes. Vanger is oblivious to the reverse idea—that legislation reforms happen because people fight for change and challenge laws that deprive basic human rights. His attitude demonstrates the novel’s criticism of how social injustice has been normalized and institutionalized.

“He was no more Nazi than I was, but for the convenience he was a member of the party. His membership card opened doors and facilitated opportunities for the Vanger Corporation—and business was precisely what we did. We built freight wagons for their trains—I’ve always wondered whether any of our wagons were destined for Poland.”

The Vanger family has profited from the suffering of others, and their fortunes reveal how opportunism and greed outweigh taking a moral stance of resistance. Vanger claims that he and his business associate are not Nazis in their ideology, but their capitalist ideology had no problem with cooperating with the regime. The ethical ambiguity of their business in Germany is further complicated when Vanger helps a young, Jewish woman escape. The plot is similar to the central story of Harriet Vanger; Blomkvist betrays his journalistic ethics by covering up the story of the family’s murders in order to save Harriet from the damage of its exposure. Vanger likewise saves the life of one woman, but wonders to what extent his overall involvement has facilitated the regime’s crimes.

“’Mikael and I have fought hard so that we could be completely independent.’

‘Nonsense. No-one is completely independent.’”

Vanger believes that complete independence in the media is impossible and his statement challenges Blomkvist and Berger’s idealism and belief that Millennium can remain objective. Especially in the context of globalization and late capitalism, pure independence appears unrealistic, as industries are inextricably woven with various entities around the globe. Millennium may not be able to extract itself from the multiple networks that modern communication depends on, but the magazine can exist as a conscientious and responsible publication that acknowledges its place in the matrix. Blomkvist’s insistence on critical reflection allows him to navigate the faults he sees in his own profession. Vanger’s comment also mirrors Salander's own negotiation of the world and the grey areas of ethics that she occupies. As staunchly self-reliant as Salander is, she too cannot escape her legal status and the ways she is circumscribed by the state.

“A report would have presumably resulted in Salander being given a proper lawyer, someone well-versed in assaults on women, which in turn might have led to a discussion of the very heart of the problem—meaning the reason she had been declared legally incompetent. Since 1989, the term “legally incompetent” has no longer been applied to adults.”

Larsson’s treatise on the status of “legally incompetent” individuals points to the institutional flaws in Salander’s treatment by both the legal and medical professions. In theory, Salander should have been able to find justice through social welfare and legal systems by reporting Bjurman to the authorities. However, these systems are “at the very heart” of Salander’s state of dependency and lack of agency. Larsson demonstrates the failures of institutions to protect individual rights, particularly the rights of people who have mental illnesses or other disabilities and are declared “legally incompetent.” The acknowledgment that the term “legally incompetent” was abolished in 1989 draws attention to the ways in which reforms are still necessary. Larsson argues that in Salander’s case, having more professionals “well-versed in assaults on women” would have given her more just representation.

“In all other respects he had treated Salander like any other normal being, and he had not interfered with her choice of lifestyle or friends. He did not think it was either his business or that of society to decide whether the young lady should have a ring in her nose or a tattoo on her neck.”

Holger Palmgren is one of the few people in Salander’s life that she trusts, and he earns her esteem by respecting her for who she is. He acknowledges that her lifestyle and manner of appearance are her “choice.” The comment refers to the sexist ways that discussions of violence against women are often framed to attribute blame to women. As a compassionate advocate who values Salander’s agency, Palmgren represents the way reforms in social welfare systems can effect positive change.

“By the time she was eighteen, Salander did not know a single girl who at some point had not been forced to perform some sort of sexual act against her will. Most of these assaults involved slightly older boyfriends who, using a certain amount of force, made sure that they had their way. As far as Salander knew, these incidents has led to crying and angry outburst, but never to a police report.”

Salander’s personal experiences attest to the ubiquity of sexual violence against women. Her assessment brings attention to the prevalence of intimate partner violence, as boyfriends are the common perpetrators against her peers. Her comment also emphasizes how many girls experience assault during adolescence, and a combination of normalization and insufficient support and services for youth factors into the lack of reporting. Salander’s own encounters with the authorities confirm her distrust in institutional support and explain why she opts to defend herself on her own terms.

“He had kind eyes. She decided that whatever else he might be, he did not seem to be a malicious person. And there was nothing in the PI she had done that would indicate he was a vicious bastard who abused his girlfriends or anything like that. She reminded herself that she was the one who knew everything. Knowledge is power.”

When Blomkvist invites himself into Salander’s apartment for the first time, she is initially alarmed but gradually reassesses that he is not a physical threat. Salander relies on the knowledge she gains from investigating people as a form of power. The power takes shape as control over her situation, as she uses her information on Blomkvist to navigate whether she is safe or in danger. Conversely, Salander gains power through her own ability to remain enigmatic and anonymous. Blomkvist’s appearance does not represent bodily harm, but he feels very much like a threat to her since he knows about her. He knows where she lives, who she is, and most importantly, that she is a hacker. Blomkvist assures her he has no intention of harming her, but Salander remains skeptical. As their relationship develops, Salander struggles to feel intimacy and trust with Blomkvist since the more he knows about her, the more she feels a loss of control.

“In that case, it might amuse you to know that I also have principles comparable to your ethics committees. I call them Salander’s Principles. One of them is that a bastard is always a bastard, and if I can hurt a bastard by digging up shit about him, then he deserves it…But the thing is that when I do a PI, I also look at what I think about the person. I’m not neutral. If the person seems like a good sort, I might tone down my report.”

Salander offers her own version of ethics by arguing that if people do something harmful, their right to privacy is revoked and they should be punished. Salander also makes an important distinction that differentiates her from Blomkvist’s model of ethics when she states, “I’m not neutral.” Contrary to Blomkvist’s principles in running Millennium, she does not claim to be objective. The statement points to her belief that laws cannot be universally applied to every person but should instead take into account different contexts and conditions. Blomkvist believes in a larger, ideal concept of morality, but Salander holds a more flexible and contextualized definition of right and wrong.

“[T]here was also a rumour that a group of ‘thieving gypsies’ had carried out a series of raids. Why they should have committed a savage, sexually related murder without stealing anything was never explained.

For a time suspicion was directed at a neighbour in the village, a bachelor who in his youth was suspected of an allegedly homosexual crime—this was back when homosexuality was still a punishable offence—and according to several statements, he had a reputation for being ‘odd.’ Why someone who was supposedly homosexual would commit a sex crime against a woman was not explained either.”

In her research on Magda’s murder, Salander finds several accounts of other people suspected of the crime. The logic of their motives makes little sense, but the police continue to follow their leads. The examples demonstrate how racist and homophobic prejudices inform the police investigation, as the individuals appear culpable by virtue of their difference from the dominant society. In contrast to the suspects’ treatment is the way wealthy members of the dominant class are able to evade scrutiny by the media despite being guilty of crimes. The novel as a whole emphasizes the ways people are marginalized and demonized in society based on the intersections of gender, class, ethnicity, disability, and sexuality.

“There’s always someone willing to believe malicious rumours.”

Blomkvist learns from Frode that Isabella, Harriet’s mother, has been organizing a campaign to remove him from Hedeby Island. She spreads rumors about his character and insinuates that Blomkvist not only is taking advantage of Vanger but also caused his heart attack. Frode’s comment that she will always find an audience implicates the role of society in the media’s sensationalism. From Frode’s perspective, news outlets will continue to publish shocking stories to capitalize on the public’s demand for scandal over accuracy. This is the second time that Blomkvist has fallen prey to the this phenomenon; earlier in the book, he describes the false information Wennerström used to entrap him as “blockbuster material” (567). In contrast to the public’s taste for spectacle, Salander has no desire to spread rumors, but she has the resources and acumen to dig up secrets from people’s past with irrefutable evidence.

“‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ she said. ‘I’m just a freak, that’s all.’

Mikael sat in silence for a long time. What am I supposed to say? You’re a perfectly ordinary girl. What does it matter if you’re a little different? What kind of self-image do you have, anyway?

‘I thought there was something different about you the instant I saw you,’ he said. ‘And you know what? It’s been a really long time since I’ve had such a spontaneous good impression of anyone from the very beginning.’

Some children came out of a cabin on the other side of the harbour and jumped into the water.”

When Blomkvist discovers that Salander has a photographic memory, she runs away in anger. Blomkvist is puzzled by her severe reaction, but he does not know how traumatic Salander’s past has been. Salander experiences shame when he notices that she is different and calls herself a “freak.” The scene recalls the abuse Salander faced as a child and suggests that her undiagnosed cognitive skills may have partly contributed to her silence in school. Blomkvist attempts to assuage her anxiety by framing her difference as a positive trait. Later in the novel, he wonders if her keen analytical skills are associated with Asperger’s syndrome, but the novel leaves the hypothesis unconfirmed. Symbolically, at the same moment as Blomkvist’s encouragement, children appear out of a cabin to enjoy a swim. Salander slowly meets up with Blomkvist, and they walk back to his guesthouse together. The scene establishes a compassionate context for Salander’s emotional isolation and Blomkvist’s genuine concern for her welfare.

“Her voice was as rough as sandpaper. As long as Blomkvist lived, he would never forget her face as she went on the attack. Her teeth were bared like a beast of prey. Her eyes were glittering, black as coal. She moved with the lightning speed of a tarantula and seemed totally focused on her prey as she swung the club again, striking Martin in the ribs.”

In a series of similes, Larsson describes Salander as a fierce animal with the tenacity to fight off Martin’s attacks and save Blomkvist’s life. The description alludes to the many ways Salander’s rough and abrasive attitude has been the subject of criticism by those who interact with her. She is deemed by the general public as distinctly “unfeminine” in her lack of grace and cordiality, but in the instance where she can defend herself and protect a life, her rage is an asset to her strength.

“I’m satisfied with the solution. Nothing we do can repair the harm that Martin Vanger did to his victims…So my question to you is: which is worse—the fact that Martin Vanger raped her out in the cabin or that you’re going to do it in print? You have a fine dilemma. Maybe the ethics committee of the Journalists Association can give you some guidance.”

Salander argues that if Blomkvist reveals the horrors of the Vanger murders, the media’s coverage of Harriet will act as another violation. For Salander, it is enough that Martin Vanger is dead and that Henrik Vanger finds ways to compensate the victims’ families and donate to women’s clinics. The novel’s resolution emphasizes the theme of moral ambiguity, as Blomkvist is forced to re-think his earlier claim that when it comes to morality: “the equation is simple” (70). Salander’s certainty in the decision is in sharp contrast to Blomkvist’s feeling of despair and betrayal of his life’s work. Her decision focuses on immediate repercussions and direct compensation, whereas he believes that covering up the truth is a form of corruption.