Consider this/ Einfach zum Nachdenken

The last few months, but especially December, have been marked by me getting engrossed in Steeg Larssons Trilogy “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the Girl Who Played with Fire, The Girl That Kicked the Hornets’ Nest”. During dreary winter days in London it has provided suspense and pleasure- I admit. But something else has made these books fascinating: the main character Lisbeth Salander is a grown-up Pippy Longstocking. She does not have family and hence has learned to fend for herself. She does so thanks to a photographic memory, impeccable computer skills and a violent streak. The latter she has acquired because of her dysfunctional past: abusive father, foster homes, more abuse etc. On the surface she has developed coping mechanisms which have made it possible for her to survive in a world that seems bent on destroying her, but deep inside...?

I found it quite easy to experience sympathy for Lisbeth, and I mean sympathy, not pity. Though she is a bit rough, Larsson depicts her as quite a likeable character. But she is profoundly miserable and unable to receive love: without wanting to spoil the plot, film three ends on a bitter-sweet note when Lisbeth meets Mikael, the one who has helped her overcome great difficulties: she is barely able to thank him, for fear that this might create the wrong kind of

emotional bond, and thus another opportunity to get hurt. And I am not alone in liking these books, which is why they are on the bestseller list here in the UK. People identify with Lisbeth: she is the archetypical wounded human being for whom relationships seem difficult, dangerous, transient. Is this the “condition humaine” that Malraux was speaking about? Aren’t we all cast into this world, vulnerable, needing to somehow find meaning in what seems to be a cruel and meaningless world?

The Christmas feast is of course the time when we remember the God who made himself vulnerable. In many ways the Incarnation is deeply unromantic: a king decides to become a subject, not simply for a day, but with his whole being. In so doing he has embraced all the vulnerability, lowliness and the me

ss we find ourselves in. As the French writer Charles de Foucauld puts it “God became so small that no one has need to be ashamed in his presence”. That is the wonder of this season, that we did not get overpowered by an irresistible force, but that we were wooed by a little child, who turned out to be a king. Which is why another girl did not see the need to run away when this person came into her life: rather than getting on her bike and leaving, this girl simply agreed to receive this king into her life...and the rest is history. Many icons depict her, not with a tattoo, but with a star on her forehead nevertheless. May we all, in this season, discover the gentleness of God’s love, made visible in the poverty of a child. And may people like Lisbeth not feel the urge to turn away, but run toward him who has loved us all enough to become a human being.

Best wishes during this season,

Martin