“It isn’t really funny.” Of course, if anybody had been hurt or a row of cars had been creamed or a bunch of tourists had been standing in line at the kiosk to buy sea-cruise tickets, then . . . then it would have been hilarious. Maybe Sweden is simply incomprehensible to an American. There is no discernible evidence of the economic problems in Sweden, or of a conflict between private and public economic aims. The Swedes, left wing though they may be, are thoroughly bourgeois. They drive Saabs like we do, know their California chardonnays, have boats and summer cottages, and vacation in places that are as much like home as possible, which is to say at Disneyland. Stockholm is one of the more attractive cities in the world, somber beauty division. It sits on a paisley map of islands, inlets, peninsulas, and bays dividing the freshwater of Lake Malaren from the Saltsjon arm of the Baltic Sea. The city is modern in all the things that should be modern (phones, roads, cars, toilets), while all the things that should be old (royal palaces, battle monuments, trees in the parks) are as old as they’re supposed to be. Any shortcomings seem to be problems of affluence rather than want. The sidewalks are slushy. Even with 13 percent unemployment, no one deigns to take so humble a job as shoveling snow. And when it comes to such very modest business ventures as shoe-shine stands (do not bring your best cap-toed oxfords to Stockholm in the winter), there are none. Sweden is cozy, and Sweden is safe. Baby carriages are routinely left outside shops. Of course, we can’t be sure of the Swedes’ motives in this, and I did see more baby carriages than I saw toddlers or school-age children. But the children I observed were well-behaved despite a Swedish law—this is not a joke— against spanking your kids. “Behave or I’ll reason with you,” however, is, from a Swede, a fairly terrible threat. The teenagers weren’t too rotten acting, either. They had plenty of snot rings and dummkopf haircuts and wore those European sweaters the color and shape of spilled porridge, but actual rebellious behavior seemed limited to looking mopey. I guess when the entire object of your society is to make everything as swell as possible for everybody, the only way you can lash out is by bumming. Sweden’s litter situation is non-NYSE and un-Albanian in the extreme. There is graffiti in Sweden, but it is neatly confined to bridge abutments and the cement embankments along certain canals. There are no street vendors or
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