farewell to Stieg was Eva.
Deep down inside me I could hear Stieg’s voice repeating the last words he ever said: “I’m fifty, damn it!”
His last words which I didn’t actually hear myself. Nevertheless, I could hear them echoing inside me. This was the end of his fifty-year-long journey. A journey that began in Skelleftehamn and continued through his childhood in Bjursele and Sandbacka, and his youth in Umea, with a few excursions to Eritrea, Morocco, Algeria, Gibraltar, Grenada.
A journey that came to an end one chilly November night at St Goran’s Hospital in Stockholm.
No. November is not a month to be relied upon. But, I thought, the considerate Stieg Larsson no doubt had a good reason for leaving when he did. As he almost always had. As usual, I realized that I trusted him, no matter what happened. It could quite simply be, I thought to myself, that his mother, Vivianne, his grandfather Severin and his grandmother Tekla had been kept waiting for him far too long.
Yes, I know, Stieg, it may be a naive thought, but as I write these words I think that despite everything, one of these days we can win peace. We can. All of us. I hope so.
Sleep well, Stieg.
Afterword
This is not a blind tribute to a friend. Everybody who met Stieg Larsson will have their own picture of him. The same applies to those who were close to him.
For more than ten years Stieg and I met almost every day. I was with him during his most difficult times, and I was present and able to share in his successes and happiness.
Despite the fact that he was eleven years older than I, we were colleagues and friends. You could almost say that we were each other’s boss. Stieg was the most unassuming person I have ever met, and the unconditional friendship he gave me is irreplaceable.
As his enormous success as a novelist grows, there is a danger that his single-minded fight does not receive the attention it deserves. That fight was such an important part of him, both as a person and as a writer. My hope is that to some extent this book has succeeded in describing it.
It is only now, after almost five years of mourning, that I have been able to summon up enough courage to write about my friend and colleague. This book is my picture of Stieg Larsson.
In conclusion I would like to thank Hakan Bravinger and Eva Gedin at Norstedts for all their help and advice.
Kurdo Baksi
