The Swedes have got themselves into all sorts of bother by attempting to identify their country’s cultural heritage by means of a definitive canon, a list of what matters. The stricture that insists on only material from before 1975 being included allows for the presence of Pippi Longstocking, Ingmar Bergman and IKEA, but means that much of the cultural output prompted by recent migration – not to mention ABBA – has been excluded. Inevitably, there are rumblings that certain right-wing interests will be more than happy with this.
Even without the arbitrary (or not) cut-off date, the whole thing is misconceived. For a start, Swedish culture – any culture – is shaped as much by outside forces as by what is created within its borders and this was the case even before our hyperconnected age. A reasonably well-educated Swede has always known about Plato and Shakespeare, Beethoven and Kurosawa as much as Strindberg or the Nobel Prize.
Ultimately, though, as ED Hirsch’s quixotic efforts have consistently proved, while a cultural canon may well exist, attempting to define it as an objective reality, including X but leaving out Y, is ultimately pointless. Any such document is at best a starting point for a conversation, at worst a crass act of gatekeeping. And any half-decent artist left outside should count that as a badge of honour, pleading the Groucho clause in his or her defence. Hit it, Benny.
