【好好学习：第10弹】关于《维兰德》的深度安利-1
前情提要：
【4】【海总+丹布+法鲨】关于RUSH和 Formula 1
【7】【抖森+Andrew Scott+铁叔】《背叛》广播剧
据读者妹子说，我被限流了。上次更新体验了一把刚入lofter都没体验过的冷清。因为不知道限流是个什么机制，所以我也没办法改变之。那么，以后更新能不能被看见就随缘啦。
接下来的一段时间内，《好好学习》系列会更我一直想写的《维兰德》系列，重点内容会是原著小说的背景故事、原著小说安利，还有抖森的角色Martinsson在原著中的故事和走向。此外，我还会写一下一直想深八的抖老师当年的广播剧《罗马最后一个凯撒》。
废话到此结束。
正文：关于《维兰德》的深度安利-1
《维兰德探案》是我喜欢的侦探小说系列之一。准确点说，它是我最喜欢的关于侦探的系列小说。
我不是在玩文字游戏。按照严格的侦探小说标准来看，《维兰德探案》的推理和迷局并不像福尔摩斯探案那样令人称奇，甚至都比不上日本某些本格推理的诡计。维兰德本人也完全不具备任何一个著名侦探的个性和魅力，笨拙沉闷的像位邻家大叔。
但是，这套书还是以超凡的魅力迷住了我，维兰德也超越波罗，直逼福尔摩斯，成为了我最在乎的侦探之一。
我在几年前开始追BBC的《维兰德》系列，为其呈现的故事和肯叔在其中的演技深深着迷，却一直没想着去读原著小说。直到差不多两年前，我听了肯叔的一个访谈，他在现场读了一段One Step Behind的原文。
书中写到维兰德的父亲去世了，他在同事 Martinsson 的陪伴下将父亲不重要的遗物丢弃。做完这一切的维兰德暗暗想到：“一个人的人生，总是终结在他家附近的垃圾场。”
我被这个有点抑郁的老男人触动了，忽然想去了解他更多，看一看原著的他和肯叔呈现的他有何不同。我从肯叔朗读的One Step Behind开始读，没想到，翻开第一页之后就再也没能停下来，直到一口气读完了全部的《维兰德探案》系列。
《维兰德探案》系列有多好其实不需要我来赞颂，作者曼凯尔在文坛的地位也不用我来评价。作为站在全世界犯罪小说巅峰的人之一，他曾获瑞典犯罪小说奖、斯堪的纳维亚犯罪小说作家协会奖、英国犯罪小说作家协会“金匕首奖”等无数奖项，作品被译成三十五种语言，全球销量超几千万册。
但是，无论一个作家有多少殊荣，具体到每一个读者，他都是要靠才华来慢慢征服的。
在我看来，曼凯尔对维兰德的书写是疏离而冷淡的，他的笔触像一场安静的冬雪，平常、寒冷而克制。他从来不会美化他，毫不留情地把他的脆弱、缺点甚至吃喝拉撒心头意淫都剥离出来，呈现在读者面前。他的文笔谈不上特别优美，讲述故事的方式也并没有很卖弄玄机，但你会发现，就算是曼凯尔在开篇就为你揭晓了凶手和谋杀动机，你还是会想去品读这个故事，跟着维兰德一起经历案件。
我想，我是被维兰德的真实迷住了，被曼凯尔的观点和眼界迷住了。《维兰德》的故事从来都不是单纯的凶杀案，而是瑞典甚至整个世界的缩影。作者对世界、对人生的看法都凝结在文字里，通过老警探维兰德的碎碎念和沉思传达出来。这些真实和睿智有超越时间和国别的力量，远比某些侦探小说中曲折的计谋和夸张的噱头动人。
《维兰德探案》系列完结得干脆而无情， The Troubled Man 之后维兰德凄然退场，曼凯尔未撰写任何后记。若干年后，另一个荷兰语单行本An Event in Autumn以英文出版，他在书末写了此文，像老朋友一样谈论了维兰德，讲述了自己创造他的缘起，也交代了终结《维兰德》的原因。
目前，这本书没有中文译本，故出于爱好自翻、留存，欢迎捉虫。
译文：
关于维兰德——肇始，终结，和途中
我地下室的一个纸板箱里有一堆落满尘土的日记。它们可以追溯到很久远的时光。我从1965年开始写日记，这些年来写写停停。日记里有各种各样的东西：从试图遣词造句而未成的格言警句到提醒第二天别忘事儿的简单笔记。当然还有很多空白，有时一个月或更久都空无一字，也有时每天都写。
比如1990年春天，我从非洲返回，结束在彼地长达六个月的居留。回到家中，我很快察觉到，在我离开期间，种族主义倾向已开始以最令人不快的方式在瑞典蔓延。瑞典虽从未远离社会之恶，但在我看来，很明显如今邪恶气焰更炽。
几个月后，我决定写些关于种族主义的东西。那时我本有不同的写作计划，但我想，写这个很重要。
更重要。
当我开始思考这会是个什么样的故事时，我很快意识到，自然而然的选择便是部犯罪小说。在我的世界里，种族主义行为是犯罪暴行，那必然的结果便是：故事需要一名侦探，一位犯罪专家，一个警察。
1990年5月的一天，我在日记中写到（抱歉，这些字迹对他人来说恐怕太过潦草，难以辨认）：今春最温暖的日子，去田野中散步，鸟鸣声声。在我看来，我将描绘的那位警探深知做为一名优秀的警官有多么艰难。犯罪的变化正如社会的变化，如果他能够做好他的本职工作，那他必须了解自己所生活的社会正在发生什么。
当时，我住在斯科讷，也就是后来所谓的“维兰德之乡”。我住在Trunnerup村边缘的一座农场里。从花园里看出去，可以看到大海，还有许多教堂塔楼和尖顶。散步回来，我翻开了电话簿。首先，我找到了库尔特（Kurt）这个名字。它很短，听起来很朴素平实。那么……需要搭配个较长的姓氏才比较合适。我找了挺长一会儿，最终选中了维兰德（Wallander）。
这个姓氏既不太稀有，也不是很常见。
所以，这就是我的警探的名字了：库尔特·维兰德（Kurt Wallander）。我安排他出生在我出生那年：1948年。（有些细节控读者坚称并非所有维兰德系列的书年龄都对的上，我相信他们说得有理。不过，人这辈子又有什么一直是真实无误呢？）
一切的书写都是传统的一部分。那些坚称自己完全脱离文学传统的作者是在撒谎，没人能在无人区成为艺术家。
当我开始思考应如何写《无面杀手》时，我意识到自己能想到的最好、最基本的“犯罪故事”便是希腊古典戏剧。希腊戏剧传统可以追溯到两千多年前。像《美狄亚》这样的戏剧，故事讲述一个因为嫉妒丈夫而谋杀孩子的女人，实则通过犯罪这面镜子映射了人类。故事是关于我们之间、我们内部，个人与社会之间，梦想与现实之间的矛盾。有时，这些矛盾通过暴力形式，例如种族冲突表达出来。犯罪这面镜子可以把我们带回希腊作家身边。
古希腊的作家们仍然启迪着我们。当时与现在唯一的真正区别在于：那时几乎没有任何类似警察部门这样的组织。冲突以不同的方式得到解决; 通常，由众神主宰人类命运。不过，总的来说，那时与如今并没有太大差别。
伟大的丹麦-挪威作家阿克塞尔·桑德莫塞（AkselSandemose）曾说，（大意如下）“唯一值得写的东西是爱情和谋杀。”他很可能是对的。如果再加上金钱，他会创造一个“三件套”，它们总以某种方式存在于文学中，过去如此，现在如此，或许永远都会如此。
我写了那本书，完全没想到将来会有更多关于总督察维兰德的小说。但是我在书出版后（那书出版后得了个奖）意识到——我可能创造了一个可以后续发展的故事。于是，我又写了一本《里加之犬》（The Dogs of Riga，中译《杀人狗》），讲述柏林墙倒塌后欧洲发生的事。我飞到了里加，后来，我总觉得自己应该写一本书记录在拉脱维亚度过的那几周，那真是一段不寻常的时光。当时，俄罗斯人和拉脱维亚人之间的紧张局势尚未达到顶峰，但当我想和一位拉脱维亚警察谈话时，必须得去个昏暗的啤酒屋里秘密会面。于我而言，小说中的大部分情节、环境都像是唾手可得的别样礼物——我书写时，只需重现自己在应对拉脱维亚紧张局势时遭遇的困难即可。
第二本书之后，我仍然不认为会有一系列以库尔特·维兰德为主角的小说。1993年1月9日，我坐在马普托的小公寓里写第三本书。它名为《白色母狮》，主题将是关于南非的情况。几年前，纳尔逊·曼德拉已从监狱获释，但南非仍有可能爆发内战并使国家陷入混乱。不难想象，可怕的事可能会发生，曼德拉可能被刺杀，再没有什么可以阻止其后的血腥屠杀、流血漂橹。
然而，就在动笔之前，我病倒了。我在马普托生活有一段时间了，确实是有感觉不舒服。我感到疲惫，脸色苍白，无法入睡。我会不会是患了疟疾？但血液检查显示没有疟原虫感染的迹象。然后有一天，我偶遇一位好友，他看了我一眼就喊道：
“你的脸都变黄了！”
我已经不记得自己被送医的细节。我被紧急送到约翰内斯堡的一家医院，一到那里，我就被诊断出患有急进型黄疸，而且已经患病好长时间。
我躺在医院病床上，在长夜中构思那个故事。待到我康复返回马普托家中时，差不多可以直接落笔了。如果没记错的话，我当时先写完了最后一页，知道那是我书写的方向！
我将小说提交给了出版商。那年4月10日，我获知自己竟然不幸预言了部分现实。在耶稣受难日那天，一个狂热的种族隔离支持者开枪打死了南非共产党主席、南非非洲人国民大会第二号人物克里斯·哈尼。得益于纳尔逊·曼德拉的政治智慧，南非才没有爆发内战。
但我仍在想，如果死的是曼德拉，那将会发生什么。
人们有时会说，维兰德系列里发生的事情后来在现实生活中成真。我想，这话没错。我毫不怀疑，从某种层面上来说，未来是可以预测的，而且可能会预测得很准确。我曾猜想，当苏联解体，东欧各国开放，瑞典和西欧必定将遭遇某种新的犯罪行为。而后来事实果真如此。
《微笑的男人》一书出发点便是这样一种可怕罪行，一个人所能犯下、或者遭遇的涉及财产的最严重罪行——而那并不是被抢劫，或者失去财产、一无所有。在那个案子里，被盗的是人体的一部分，是可以售卖的、用于移植的器官。当我开始写那本书时，我毫不怀疑那种犯罪还会持续增加。
如今，器官买卖已是一个蓬勃发展的行业。
为什么维兰德会在不同国家和文化中如此受欢迎？究竟是什么让他成为这么多人的朋友？这也是我想知道的。当然，我没有明确的答案。但是，可能有如下几个解释。
先来说一个我看来最优的答案吧！
从一开始，当我在那个春天穿过田野时，我就很清楚，我会创造一个很像我自己，也很像未来读者的人。一个在精神和身体上不断变化的人。我一直在改变，所以他也会。
这最终催生了我将之调侃为“糖尿病综合征”的东西。完成第三部小说后，我询问一位读过这套书的医生朋友维多利亚：“如果我要让这个男主角患上一种常见病，它会是什么？”
她毫不犹豫，立刻答道：“糖尿病。”
于是，下一次我再写维兰德，他便患了糖尿病。那让他更受欢迎了。
难以想象詹姆斯·邦德在追捕罪犯或其他什么人的时候，会在街上停下来，只为给自己注射点胰岛素。但维兰德却会如此，他变得像任何患有糖尿病的人一样。他本可能会患有风湿病、痛风、心律不齐或是高血压。但他患上了糖尿病，如今虽然病情平稳，但却仍为其所扰。
库尔特·维兰德有这么多读者当然还有其他很多原因。但我想，个中最关键的还是他总是在变化。关于这一点，这背后也有个很重要但也很简单的原因：我只会写自己想读的书。如果在一本书里，我读了一页之后就可以完全了解主角，或者，在接下来的几千页中没有任何事能改变他/她，这种书我可读不下去。
在艺术的世界里，你会吸引很多朋友。福尔摩斯至今仍会收到寄往伦敦贝克街的信。我也收到了来自许多国家的信、电子邮件和电话。我在哥德堡和汉堡的街道上常常被人叫住，人们问我一些友好的问题，我则尽力回答它们。
大多与我联系的都是希望能给维兰德慰藉的女性。我很少回复这些信件。当然，我也不认为来信者期望得到回复。不过，总的来说，读者们还是很理智的。无论你多想，你都不能跟一个文学人物一起生活。你可以将他们作为想象中的朋友，在需要时呼唤他们。艺术的任务之一便是为人们提供陪伴。我当然也期待有朝一日能在街头遇见自己看过的画中人。有些书籍和电影中的人物如此鲜活，以至于我们会期待转过街角，就能看见他们。维兰德就是个会站在街道转角的人，可惜他从未现身。至少，我还没能遇到他。
我曾经有一次差点无话可说。那是1994年，瑞典将就是否加入欧盟进行公投。我正在斯德哥尔摩沿着瓦萨加坦（Vasagatan）街散步，一位老人停在我身边。他非常友善、彬彬有礼，问我是不是作家曼凯尔。我说是的。然后他问了下面这个问题：“我想知道针对入欧这件事，库尔特·维兰德会投支持票还是反对票？”
我毫不怀疑，他的问题很严肃，他是真得想知道答案。但我该怎么回答呢？我从未想过这事。我拼命地思考，我是不是知道瑞典警察部队是否支持入欧。最后我答：“我认为，他的选票将与我的相反。”在那位友好的老人有机会提出下个问题之前，我溜掉了。
后来我就入欧投了反对票。所以我相信，维兰德会投赞成票。
我经常被问到的一个问题是维兰德读什么书。
这是个很棒的问题，因为它很难回答。 我有时认为他会读我写的书，但我并不太确定。而且很遗憾，我觉得维兰德恐怕不是个爱看书的人——他应该不会读诗歌，但或许喜欢阅读历史书，包括史实书籍和历史小说一类。我还认为他一直都喜欢福尔摩斯系列。
有些人会认为我即将要说的话是捏造的，但它们是事实。它确曾发生，不是一个玄幻故事。
大约十五年前，我开始写一本以维兰德为主角的书。我写了大约一百页，真挚地相信我正在写的东西注定要成为一本书。
但后来事实并非如此。又写了若干页之后，我放弃了，烧掉了打印好的全部成稿，又删除了计算机里的原始文件。等我买了一台新电脑之后，还销毁了旧硬盘。我很确信，没有任何东西能重现那几百页稿件。
我之所以没有写完那本书，是因为它让我感到不适，我还没有相应的力量。那本书是关于儿童虐待的。当然，现在我意识到我当时应该写完它的。儿童虐待是当今世界上最令人不快的罪行之一。瑞典也未能幸免。但那也正是该书让我如此不适的原因，我根本无力应对。
人们可能会对我坚称的上述事实有所质疑，这我能理解。我在书中描述了很多可怕的东西。我可以毫不犹豫地说，其中有很多东西很难书于笔端。我当然知道，现实生活中发生的事情总是比我在书中描述的要糟糕许多。我的想象力永远无法超越现实。因此，有时候，我必须写出令人厌恶的事情，以保持和现实一致。
写完《白母狮》一书后，我意识到，“维兰德现象”可以给我创造最大的条件，让我表达自己想表达的东西。同时，我也意识到，我需要敬畏我创造的角色。从现在开始，我需要警惕，时刻谨记我的小说应该是由管弦乐队共同演奏的旋律，而不是专注于男主角的小号独奏。我需要一直记得：故事才是最重要的。我要首先牢记这一点，然后问自己，维兰德是否适合作为一件独奏乐器来增强这首特定的和弦。
我会时不时地提醒自己：现在去做些别的事。于是，我去写了没有维兰德出现的文字，非犯罪小说、戏剧剧本。然后，我又可以回到他身边，书写他，然后再放下他，写些不同的东西，如此周而复始。
一直以来，我内心深处都有个声音在说：“你要确保在适当的时候让他离开。”我很清楚，有一天我可能会拿起《维兰德探案》系列，狠狠地盯着他，问自己：“我现在能让他做些什么呢？”当他变得比故事本身更重要的时候，便是让他离开的时候。我想我可以坦诚地说，到系列完结为止，维兰德从来没有比故事更重要。
维兰德从未成为负担。
我内心还有另一个定时警报：我必须避免程式化写作。如果我那样做，就会陷入一个危险的陷阱。对我的读者和我自己来说，那都是一种不尊重。如果发生那种情况，读者们为我的书花了钱，却发现作者已经厌倦了，只是随便地完成了定制动作。而对我而言，那会使写作变成我不再能全情投入的东西。
所以，趁着写作还有趣的时候，我选择停下来。完结维兰德系列的决定是缓慢、悄然而至的，起始于我准备写最后一本书之前的若干年。
为全系列画上句点的其实是我妻子。当时我写完了最后一句话，请她帮我按下“句号”键。她按下它，故事就这样结束了。
那么之后呢？当我书写完全不同的其他书时，人们常问我是否想念维兰德。我如实回答：“我不是那个想念他的人，读者才是。”
我从未想到过维兰德。对我而言，他一直存在于我脑海中。有三位演员在电视和电影中扮演了他，他们各自以精彩的演技创造了高度个性化的版本。我对此感到无限欢欣。
我并不思念维兰德。我没有重复阿瑟·柯南道尔爵士的错误，他犹豫不决地杀死福尔摩斯先生。而福尔摩斯被复活之后的最后系列是整个故事里最不成功的。大概在他内心深处，柯南道尔也知道自己在做一些将来会后悔的事。
偶尔，人们会在街上叫住我，问我是不是会写另一个故事。维兰德的女儿琳达不是也成为了一名警官吗？她会有怎样的故事？你不是说过，她会成为故事的主角吗？你十年前不是还写了一本以她为主角的《冰霜将至》吗？
我不想排除那种可能性，或许会有一本甚至几本以琳达·维兰德为主角的书，但我真的不确定。在我这个年纪，能做的事已经不那么多了。一如既往，时光飞逝——但岁月如今却比以往更加催人。我必须很明确自己该放弃哪些事，做我最想做的——这将是我度过自己剩余时间的唯一方式。
对于我写过的《维兰德探案》系列，那数千数万字符，我无一字后悔。那些书在多个方面反映了瑞典和欧洲在20世纪90年代、21世纪前十年所发生的事情，它们已经有了自己的生命。正如我曾经描述《维兰德探案》系列时说过的：它们记录了瑞典的动荡与不安。当然，那些文字能继续存在多长时间取决于不同的因素，取决于这世界上将发生什么，以及人们的阅读习惯如何改变。
时间的流逝实在令人困惑。我还记得，维兰德的第一本有近一半都是在一台旧的霍尔达打字机上写出的。而如今我几乎不记得打字机的按键是什么样子了。
书籍世界正在发生巨变。当然，它一直在变，但我们应该记住，是书籍的印刷、售卖等方式在发生变化，而不是书籍本身。读书的本意依然是手捧两页封面，书页嵌于其中。越来越多的人会在睡前阅读电子书，但纸书这样的传统书籍永远不会消失。并不保守地说，我相信，越来越多的人会回归阅读纸书。
只有时间能证明我的论断正确与否。
无论如何，维兰德的故事已经结束了。维兰德很快会退休，不再担任警探。他将和他的黑狗尤西一起徘徊于暮色之中。我不知道他的生命何时终结，那只有他自己才能决定。
亨宁·曼凯尔
2013年春季
原文：
MANKELL ON WALLANDER
HOW IT STARTED, HOW IT FINISHED AND WHAT HAPPENED IN BETWEEN
In a cardboard box down in my cellar is a collection of dustydiaries. They go back quite a long way in time. I’ve been keeping a diary sinceabout 1965. Regularly on and off, you might say. They contain all kinds ofthings from attempts to create aphorisms to straightforward notes reminding meabout things I’d prefer not to have forgotten about the following day. Theycontain a lot of gaps, sometimes a month or more long, but there are alsoperiods when I have written every day.
Such as in the spring of 1990. I had returned from a long,unbroken stay in Africa, where I lived for six months at a time. When I gothome I soon realized that while I had been away racist tendencies had startedto spread in Sweden in a most unpleasant way. Sweden has never been totallyfree from this social evil, but it was obvious to me that it had increaseddramatically.
After a few months, I made up my mind to write about racism. I hadquite different plans at the time for what I was going to write about, but Ithought this was important.
More important.
When I began to think about what kind of story it would be, itsoon dawned on me that the natural path to follow was a crime novel. This wasobvious because in my world racist acts are criminal outrages. A logicalconsequence of this was that I would need an investigator, a crime expert, apolice officer.
One day in May 1990 I wrote in my diary—unfortunately more or lessillegible for anyone but me: The warmest day this spring. Went for a walk round thefields. A lot of birdsong. It seemed to me that the police officer I shalldescribe must realize how difficult it is to be a good police officer. Crimechanges in the same way that a society changes. If he is going to be able to dohis work properly, he must understand what is going on in the society he livesin.
I was living in Skåne at the time, in the middle of what could becalled “Wallanderland.” I lived in a farmhouse on the edge of the village ofTrunnerup. From the garden I could see the sea and a lot of church towers andsteeples. When I got back from my walk I took out the telephone directory.First I found the name Kurt. It was short and sounded fairly usual. A longersurname would be appropriate. I spent quite a while looking, and eventually hitupon Wallander.
That was also neither too common, nor too uncommon.
So that was what my police officer would be called: KurtWallander. And I let him be born in the same year as me: 1948. (Some pedantsmaintain that this isn’t consistently true in all thebooks. I’m sure they areright. What is consistently true in this life?)
Everything one writes is part of a tradition. Authors who maintainthat they are totally divorced from literary traditions are lying. You don’tbecome an artist in no-man’s-land.
When I started thinking about how Faceless Killers shouldbe written, I realized that the best and most fundamental “crime stories” Icould think of were classical Greek dramas. The tradition goes back more thantwo thousand years in time. A play like Medea, which is about a woman who murdersher children because she is jealous of her husband, reflects human beingsthrough the mirror of crime. It’s about contradictions between us and insideus, between individuals and society, between dream and reality. Sometimes thesecontradictions express themselves in violence, such as racial conflict. Andthis mirror of crime can take us back to the Greek authors.
They still inspire us. The only real difference between then andnow is that in those days there was hardly anything corresponding to our policeforce. Conflicts were resolved in a different way; often, gods held sway overhuman destiny. But generally speaking, that is the only basic difference.
The great Danish-Norwegian author Aksel Sandemose once said,liberally translated, “the only things worth writing about are love andmurder.” He may well have been right. If he had added money, he would havecreated a trinity, which in one way or another is always present in literature,then as now, and presumably always will be.
I wrote that novel without ever thinking that there might be morefeaturing Chief Inspector Wallander. But I realized after the book had beenpublished—and even won a prize—that I might have created a set-up that could bedeveloped further. Another book was written, The Dogs of Riga, dealing with whathappened in Europe after the collapse of the Berlin Wall. I flew to Riga, andafterward often felt that I ought to write a book about those weeks I spent inLatvia. It was a remarkable time. Tensions between Russians and Latvians hadnot yet reached bursting point. When I wanted to speak to a Latvian policeofficer it had to be a secret meeting in a dimly lit beer house. Much of theatmosphere in the novel was a gift as far as I was concerned—I merely had toreproduce the difficulties I had in finding my way around with politicaltensions red-hot on all sides.
But I was still not convinced that there would be a series ofnovels featuring Kurt Wallander. However, on January 9, 1993, I sat down in mylittle apartment in Maputo to write a third book. It was to be called The White Lioness,and would be about the situation in South Africa. Nelson Mandela had beenreleased from prison some years previously, but there was still a real dangerthat civil war might break out and plunge the country into chaos. It did nottake long to work out that the worst thing that could possibly happen
would be for Mandela to be murdered. Nothing could prevent thatfrom leading to a bloodbath.
But just before I actually started writing I became very ill. Ihad been wandering around Maputo for some time feeling out of sorts. I wastired out, pale, couldn’t sleep. Could I be suffering from malaria? But bloodtests showed no sign of parasites. Then one day I bumped into a good friend ofmine who took one look at me and said:
“Your face is all yellow!”
I don’t remember much about being rushed into a hospital inJohannesburg, but once I got there I was diagnosed as suffering from an aggressivetype of jaundice, and had been doing so for far too long.
I lay in my hospital bed, working out the story in my mind duringthe nights. By the time I had recovered sufficiently to travel back home toMaputo, it was more or less ready for writing down. If I remember rightly, Iwrote the last page first. That was the point I was working toward!
On April 10 that year, when I had already submitted the text to mypublisher, I received worrying confirmation of how my thoughts on the subjecthad been only too right. On Good Friday a fanatical apartheid supporter shotdead Chris Hani, the chairman of South Africa’s Communist Party, and number twoin the ANC. There was no civil war, thanks largely to Nelson Mandela’sintelligent politics. But I still wonder what would have happened if he hadbeen the victim.
People sometimes say about the Wallander books that they deal withevents that later happen in real life. I think that is true. I have no doubt thatin some respects it is not impossible to foresee the future, and actually to beright. I thought it went without saying that when the Soviet Union collapsedand the eastern states opened up, we would be plagued by a new kind ofcriminality in Sweden and Western Europe. And that is what happened.
The starting point for The Man Who Smiled is about the worstcrime involving property one could possibly commit or be a victim of—and it isnot being robbed of one’s possessions. What is stolen in such cases is a partof a human being, an organ that can then be sold for transplantation. When Ibegan writing the book I had no doubt that it was a crime that would increase.
Today it is an industry that is flourishing and expanding.
Why did Wallander become so popular in so many different countriesand cultures? What exactly was it that made him so many people’s friend? It issomething I have wondered about, of course, and there is no definite answer.But there might be several partial explanations.
Here is the one I believe in preference to all others!
From the very beginning, when I made that spring walk through thefields, I was clear that I would create a human being who was very like myselfand the unknown reader. A person who is constantly changing, both mentally andphysically. I am changing all the time, and so he would also do the same.
That led eventually to what I somewhat ironically call “thediabetes syndrome.” After the third novel, I asked Victoria, a friend and adoctor who had read the books: “What disease that a lot of people suffer fromwould you give this man?”
Without a trace of doubt she replied immediately: “Diabetes.”
And so the next time I wrote about Wallander, he was diagnosed ashaving diabetes. And that made him even more popular.
Nobody can imagine James Bond stopping in a street, while chasingafter some criminal or other, in order to inject himself with insulin. ButWallander does, and so he becomes like any other person who suffers from thatillness, or something similar. He might have been afflicted by rheumatism orgout, a heart with an irregular beat or soaring blood pressure. But in fact hehas diabetes, and he still suffers from it, although he has it under control.
Needless to say there are other reasons why Kurt Wallander hasattracted so many readers. But I think the fact that he is always changing iscrucial. There is a major but simple reason for this: I can only write booksthat I would want to read myself. And a book in which I either know all thereis to know about the main character after just one page, or realize thatnothing is going to change him or her in any way for the next thousand pages,is not a book I would have the patience to read.
You attract a lot of friends in the world of art. Sherlock Holmesstill receives letters written to him in Baker Street, London. I get letters, e-mailsand telephone calls from many countries. I am stopped in the streets ofGothenburg just as often as in Hamburg. The questions people ask me arefriendly, and I try to answer them as best I can.
Most of the people who contact me are women who hope to cureWallander’s loneliness. I seldom answer those letters. Nor do I think that thewriters expect an answer. People are sensible, despite everything. You can’tlive with literary characters no matter how much you might like to. You canhave them as imaginary friends that you can call up when you need them. One ofthe tasks of art is to provide people with companions. I have seen people inpaintings who I hope to meet in the street one of these days. There arecharacters in books and films who become so alive that we turn a corner andexpect to see them standing there. Wallander is one of those characters whohides behind corners. But he never emerges and shows himself. Not to me, atleast.
I was once almost lost for words. It was 1994. There was to be a referendumin Sweden about whether or not we should join the EU. I was walking alongVasagatan in Stockholm when an elderly man stopped by my side. He was veryfriendly and well mannered, and asked if I was who he thought I was. I saidyes. He then asked the following question:“I wonder if Kurt Wallander will votefor or against the EU?”
His question was serious. I had no reason to doubt that. Hiscuriosity was genuine. But how should I answer? I had never thought about it,of course. I tried desperately to think whether or not I knew if the Swedishpolice force as a whole was in favor of membership or not. In the end I said:“I think his vote will be the opposite of mine.” And I walked away before thefriendly man had an opportunity to ask a follow-up question.
On that occasion I voted against membership. And so I am convincedthat Wallander voted in favor.
A question I am often asked is what books Wallander reads.
It is a good question, because it is difficult to answer. Isometimes think he reads the books I write. But I’m not entirely convinced.
Unfortunately I don’t think Wallander is much of a reader—and whathe does read is unlikely to be poetry. But I imagine that he likes readingabout history, both factual books and historical novels. And I think he hasalways been fascinated by books about Sherlock Holmes.
Some people think that what I am about to say is completelyuntrue. But it is true. It is not a myth. It really did happen.
About fifteen years ago I started writing a book that would haveWallander as the main character. I wrote about a hundred pages, which is thepoint at which I start to believe seriously that what I am writing is destinedto be a book.
But it didn’t turn out that way. After a few more pages I gave upand burned—literally—every page that had been printed out. I also erased thecomputer file, and when I bought a new computer shortly afterward I destroyedthe old hard disc. I think I can say with confidence that there are no ones andzeros left that could be used to re-create those hundred pages.
I didn’t finish writing the book because I was uncomfortable withit. I didn’t have the strength. It was about the abuse of children. Now, ofcourse, I realize that I ought to have written it. Child abuse is one of themost unpleasant crimes in the world nowadays. And Sweden is no exception. Butthat is precisely why I became so uncomfortable with it. I simply couldn’tcope.
I understand that people query the truth of what I have justmaintained. I have described a lot of things in my books that could certainlybe considered horrendous. And I have no hesitation in saying that I found itextremely difficult to put a lot of pages down on paper. But of course I amaware that what happens in everyday life is always much worse than what Idescribe in my books. My imagination can never exceed reality. And so,sometimes, I must also write about disgusting things so as not to becomedivorced from credibility.
After The White Lioness, I realized that the Wallander phenomenon wassomething I could exploit to make the most of what I had to say. At the sametime I also realized that I needed to be afraid of the character I had created.From now on there would always be a danger of my forgetting to write my novelsto be performed by a full orchestra, and instead to concentrate on his hornsolos. What I always needed to bear in mind was: the story is the mostimportant thing. Always. And then to ask myself if Wallander would be asuitable solo instrument to enhance this particular story, or not.
Over and over again I would tell myself: now I’m going to dosomething different. I wrote texts in which he didn’t appear—novels that werenot about crimes, plays for the theater. Then I could return to him, drop him,write something different, then return to him again.
All the time I could hear a voice deep down inside me saying: “Youmust make sure that you drop him at the right moment.” I was well aware thatone day I might pick up Wallander, stare hard at him and ask myself: “What canI think of for him to do now?” A point when he rather than the story was themost important ingredient. That would be the time to drop him. I think I cansay in all honesty that Wallander has never been more important than the actualstory.
Wallander never became a burden.
But there was also another warning alarm ticking away inside me. Imust avoid starting to write as a sort of routine. If I did that, I would havebeen caught in a dangerous trap. It would be showing insufficient respect forboth my readers and myself. If that happened, readers would pay good money fora book and soon discover that the author had grown tired and was simply goingthrough the motions. As far as I was concerned, my writing would have beentransformed into something to which I was no longer fully committed.
And so I stopped while it was still fun. The decision to write mylast book about Wallander crept up on me slowly. It was a few years before Iwas ready to write the final full stop.
It was actually my wife Eva who wrote that final full stop. I hadwritten the last word, and I asked her to press the “full stop” key. She didso, and the story was finished.
And what now, afterward? When I am working on totally differentbooks? I am often asked if I miss Wallander. I answer truthfully. “I’m not theone who will miss him. It’s the reader.”
I never think about Wallander. For me he is somebody who exists inmy head. The three actors who have played him on the television and in filmshave portrayed their own highly individual versions in brilliant fashion. Ithas been a great joy for me.
But I don’t miss him. And I didn’t repeat the mistake made by SirArthur Conan Doyle, who halfheartedly killed off Mr. Holmes. That last SherlockHolmes story is one of the least successful. Presumably because deep down,Doyle was doing something that he knew he would regret.
I am occasionally stopped in the street and asked if I’m not goingto write another one, despite everything. And what will happen to his daughterLinda who also became a police officer? Didn’t I once say she was going to playthe leading role? Didn’t I write the first book about her, Before the Frost,ten years ago?
I don’t want to exclude the possibility that there might be one orpossibly even several books in which Linda Wallander plays the leading role,but I am not sure. At my age, the limits of what I can do have narrowed. Asalways, time is short—but more scarce now than it has ever been. I have to makeincreasingly definite decisions about what I shall not do. That is the onlyway to use the time I have—and nobody knows how long that is—to do what I wantto do most of all.
But I don’t regret a single line of the thousands of lines I wroteabout Wallander. I think the books live on because in many ways they are areflection of what happened in Sweden and in Europe in the 1990s and the firstdecade of the twenty-first century. They are novels of Swedish unrest, as Iused to call the series of books about Wallander. How long the texts willcontinue to live on depends on quite different factors. On what happens in theworld, and what happens to reading habits.
The passage of time is in many ways bewildering. I wrote at leasthalf of the first Wallander book on an old Halda typewriter. Nowadays I canhardly remember what tapping the keys of a typewriter was like.
The book world is changing dramatically. It always has done, butone should bear in mind that it is the distribution of books that is changing,not the books themselves. The basic idea of reading a book is holding in yourhands two covers containing pages. To be sure, more and more people are goingto bed with their e-readers, but traditional books with paper pages will neverdisappear. Without being reactionary in any way, I am convinced that more andmore people will go back to reading traditional books.
Whether or not I am right, only time will tell.
In any case, my story about Kurt Wallander has now come to an end.Wallander will soon retire and cease to be a police officer. He will wanderaround in his twilight land with his black dog Jussi. How much longer he willremain in the land of the living, I have no idea. That is presumably somethinghe will decide for himself.
Henning Mankell
Spring 2013
