What I’m Reading and Drinking: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest

Recently I read most of the Millennium series, starting with The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo—I’m on the last book now. And I love Lisbeth Salander as a heroine. One of the reasons I picked up these books is that I’m writing my own bad-ass woman-warrior heroine in a fantasy project—and I feel I have a lot to learn from Stieg Larson.

Tough, stoic warriors of Lisbeth Salander’s type are hard to write. Lisbeth is withdrawn and antisocial—to the point where other characters in the book speculate she has Asberger’s Syndrome. It’s hard to draw a reader in when writing that kind of character. You need a foothold for the reader to relate to her—and start to care about her.

Larson does this through action. Lisbeth is a scary person in a lot of ways—she makes Katniss Everdeen look like a cuddly baby sloth. But you also see some terrible things happen to her. Some of these scenes can be tough to read.

There’s a really graphic rape scene in the first book, and for that alone I wouldn’t recommend this series for a YA audience or even squeamish adults. But that’s an important scene. It establishes Lisbeth’s vulnerability early on. She’s bad-ass, yes. But terrible things also happen to her. She can’t always protect herself. This is a great way to make readers care without drawing us into the character’s emotional life.

Salander expresses herself through action, not a reflective voice. Despite her innate reserve, she makes the story come alive. She drives the plot forward. Whenever we see Lisbeth, she is acting, not reacting. She’s unpredictable. That makes her exciting. And while she’s not introspective, her voice is very human when we do hear it.

The female warrior in my project, who is quite different from Lisbeth in a lot of ways, is also withdrawn and stoic. I’ve struggled to make readers care about her as a character while keeping that stoic personality. I want her to function like Lisbeth—fuelling the plot forward every time we see her, like the burning heart of a freight train. Notes I’m taking from Stieg Larson: Make her an actor, not a reactor. And make her vulnerable in what happens to her—don’t be afraid to show her losing.

As for what to drink while I read this book—I’m thinking port. It’s blood-red and heavy. Like this book, it catches up on you slowly—but when it does, there’s no stopping it. And it’s a little old-fashioned, matching perfectly with the restrained language of the translation.

So: Enjoy!