Klas Östergren at a book signing. He first gained critical acclaim and commercial success with his 1980 novel Gentlemen, soon to be turned into a TV series. Photo: Niklas Larsson/Scanpix

“Come in, you’ve arrived on one of the two windless days of the year,” says Klas Östergren by way of greeting, peering out of an open window.

He lives in one of the last outposts on Sweden’s south-east coast. He and his family have built their farmhouse home where the road ends and the sea begins. A few kilometers away, the rich and famous languish in their picturesque weekend cottages, but up here on the windblown heights all you hear is the rooster crowing and small birds chirping.

Östergren’s geographical remoteness does not mean that he is out of touch with the world. His writing, which has spanned more than 30 years and brought him numerous awards, is rich in social critique.

A marginal country

“In some parts of the world, Sweden still has a huge reputation as a pioneering country,” he says. “And yes, our social experiments have brought a lot of good things. But there’s also something that almost cancels out the good part.” This is a reference to Sweden’s arms exports and the double standards he feels they represent.

“These exports are huge and the arms industry is one of the country’s biggest industries — although it’s the others we talk about much more,” he says, settling into his workroom couch.

In his novels, therefore, he does what he can to puncture what he calls the grandiose Swedish image of a warrior nation that became an agent of world peace. Lately, however, he has detected a slight improvement in Sweden’s self-image.

“There are signs that Sweden may now be assuming reasonable proportions and developing into the marginal country it ought by rights to be. Hurrah, I say, about time!”

And he lets out a laughter that causes him to sink even deeper into the couch.

Not precisely optimistic

Östergren has a laugh that keeps the dark side of life in perspective; that makes it manageable. That laugh is reflected in some of his books, too, and led to misunderstandings early in his career. In his breakthrough novel from 1980, Gentlemen (Gentlemen), his distanced and ironic tone was widely misinterpreted.  “I’d written a tragedy and people had read a comedy,” he says.

Though an avid social critic, Östergren lives quite isolated in the south of Sweden. Photo: Niklas Larsson/Scanpix

The sense of darkness is also well in evidence in his latest novel, The Hurricane Party (Orkanpartyt), which is published in English this summer, while he will be personally presenting it at this year’s Edinburgh Festival. Östergren was the first Scandinavian to be asked to contribute to an international series of novels based on myths that the authors chose themselves. Östergren based his book on the treacherous god Loki, who sows discord in ancient Nordic mythology.

Here, once again, he delivers some biting social criticism. But his horizon is wider this time — he is more concerned with a global perspective than a purely Swedish one. The story is set a few centuries into the future, when the world has suffered the full force of climate change and epidemics regularly wipe out large swathes of population.

“No, my vision of the future is not exactly optimistic,” he says. “God, how I laughed when I wrote it!”

While writing the book, he often had the feeling that the future had already arrived.

“You just had to read the newspaper in the morning and then go and sit down and write about some rubbish dump,” he says, laughing aloud.

Golden age

Nor is literature entering a glorious era, if the futuristic vision outlined in The Hurricane Party is to be believed. The only medium available to the shrinking corps of authors is the giantess Tombola’s own reality show.

Klas Östergren is unhappy about the current polarization of the literary scene into quality literature and entertainment literature, particularly crime novels.

“I think it’s really sad that people aren’t interested in reading about other people unless a crime has been committed,” he says. “And many serious books are so bloody serious and boring that I can understand if people don’t want to read them. The middle ground has almost been swallowed up.”

Östergren's The Hurricane Party recently appeared in English and the book Gangsters will be filmed for TV.

He has also observed how the role of the author is changing in the vast and labyrinthine media complex that now surrounds us all.

“Today, stories are being told all the time, round the clock, everywhere. Talk about a golden age for authors! They’re supposed to be storytelling professionals. Maybe—”.

He breaks off and tries to work his way into an upright position on the couch.

“Um, please don’t imagine I’m listless or apathetic — you get into some pretty strange positions in this piece of furniture but I’ve grown up in it and I have difficulty parting with it…

“Where were we? Ah right, maybe authors will have a different role in the future, they don’t necessarily have to die out. But that stuff about living a sheltered life and writing one book a year, selling 18,500 copies and supporting your family on it — that’s all in the past. And I’m not sure I’ll miss it, either.”

Documentary dreams

On the desk just behind him lies the manuscript of his next novel, due for delivery in a few weeks’ time. One last revision awaits.

“Editing down is very enjoyable. By then, you have the material anyway.”

Östergren seems to be a busy man in the years to come. Once the new novel has been completed, he will begin turning an early novel, Gentlemen, and its sequel, Gangsters, into a TV script. Since he first made his mark as an author, he has been alternating between writing novels and producing widely acclaimed film scripts and translations.

He would also like to write a proper play one day. And produce an authentic workplace narrative — as a contrast to his many anti-heroes with all their odd jobs.

“I’m actually not sure how long I’ll be able to go on making things up — it’s a pretty exhausting process,” he sighs, explaining that he’s longing for material of a more documentary nature.

“A butterfly that no-one’s written a book about…” he adds dreamily, a faraway look in his eye.