You have been warned. This will contain spoilers, but beyond those I plan to discuss a plot hole so massive I’ve continually tried to find ways to rationalize it, thinking, “There’s no way Stieg could have missed this.” I still have not. I have discussed it with other people — it hasn’t always destroyed the experience for them, but it certainly has damaged it.  Still with me?  Let’s forge ahead.

I’ll start out by saying this is based on the Swedish film version, not the novel — if that ties everything together, lemme know.  For those unfamiliar, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a mystery about the disappearance of the grandniece of Henrik Vanger many decades ago. Henrik is the former CEO of Vanger Enterprises, a company that’s generated sufficient wealth to allow much of his extended family to reside together on an island, where they amuse themselves by acting sinister. Henrik suspects his grandniece was murdered, as every year on his birthday he is sent pressed flowers. He brings in a disgraced journalist to investigate, the journalist enlists a hacker who is way more interesting than everyone else in the film (possibly because she’s usually naked), and they begin their quest for the truth.

Here’s the truth: it turns out that many members of the family are Nazis, and within this Vanger Nazi subset there is a smaller group of serial killers. So far, so good. The Nazi serial killers are eventually discovered, suspense ensues, and it seems like we’re at the end…but we’re not because the grandniece was never murdered at all! Nope, Harriet Vanger was being raped by her father and brother — a lot of people are raped in this story — and then killed her father in a way that appeared to be an accident but her brother saw her do it so she fled Scandinavia until the journalist found her…at which point she and Henrik have a very sweet reunion.

Okay, here’s my problem: why the hell didn’t Harriet give the authorities a heads up on her brother? You know, a little call: “Hey, Martin Vanger’s a Nazi serial killer — thought you might want to know. Bye.” Because that just seems a common courtesy to everyone else. And sure, it was a traumatic experience and he’s a scary guy, but after a decade or two has passed, wouldn’t you calm down enough to muse, “You know, my brother used to kill women all the time. Wonder if he’s still doing that…”

And no, I do not accept as a reason for her being reluctant to talk the fact that she had killed her father. First, no one knew it was a murder; the only evidence that could be used against her would be the testimony of her brother Martin (which seems somewhat impeachable, in the sense he’s a Nazi serial killer). And beyond that, while I acknowledge not being an expert on the Swedish justice system, I suspect if you said, “I was being chased by my father, who wanted to rape me as he had often done in the past, and I wound up killing him — did I mention I was a minor when this occurred?”, they’d probably give you a pass.

You can’t even argue that Harriet has just completely turned her back on her old life, because she sent the anonymous pressed flowers to Henrik. Here I have to say: what the hell, Harriet? How was this not going to mess with his head? And how many years did it take Henrik to make the jump from “That’s weird; flowers without a card. Say, didn’t I get something like this last year?” to “Clearly this is a murderer taunting me about my missing grandniece” (I’m guessing eight). Did she ever consider mixing it up? Just going, “You know, this year instead of my usual sinisterly enigmatic present, how about getting him something he can actually use? Like an iPad, maybe, or a gift certificate. Yeah, gift certificates are always good. He’s in Sweden already, let me send him to IKEA.”

Clearly none of this has bothered anyone else, in the sense the book’s selling like one of those Twilight things — incidentally, after I learned about the Nazis and the serial killings, I have to admit I was pretty sure the next revelation would be the Vangers were vampires too — and an American remake on the film is on the way. But it bothers me. It bothers me a lot. If anyone can solve this, please let me know, so I don’t find myself on a Swedish island in 2050, staring at my pressed flowers and haunted by that missing plausibility I experienced all those decades ago.

Sean writes a semi-regular column when he’s procrastinating.

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