Wow! This feels fantastic. Varberg Theatre. To receive the Robespierre Prize and to stand here in wonderful Varberg and celebrate it with you. Every time I come here; I want to move here. I feel incredibly happy and grateful. In addition to saying thank you, I also want to tell you a little about the background to why I am standing here today.

My name is Fanny Klang, I live in Stockholm and study law. In September, my debut novel Closed Institution was published by Ordfront publishing house.

It is a novel about the Swedish Prison and Probation Service. I myself have worked at the authority for several years, in various institutions and detention centres around Sweden, and the book is based on my experiences. The Prison and Probation Service is an operation in complete disintegration, and I am shocked that a government agency can be run in such an unprofessional manner. I started keeping notes to deal with my resignation and frustration, and eventually I realized that it should even become a book. There was no workplace depiction from within the Prison and Probation Service, and I wanted to shed light on an important part of our society that is very rarely depicted.

I got a tip from my mother about something called Leninland, a cultural sanctuary for writers with the heart on the left side. And on November 8, 2022, i.e. almost exactly two years ago, I sent my application. A few months later I found myself in Varberg, for the first time. It was love at first sight and every time I come back here, I think about whether I might move here one day.

In the middle of winter, I spent two intense weeks writing what would later become Closed Institution. The only break from work was long walks along the sea. I worked from six in the morning until ten at night, almost manic in the end. I had a hard time sleeping, I went completely into the fictional world that was written out in my computer. I survived on microwave popcorn and instant noodles, because I didn’t want to take any time away from the writing process. Fortunately, it was only two weeks…

Now, on the day two years after I submitted my application to Leninland, I stand here. It feels surreal. There is a book now! I have been able to talk about the Prison and Probation Service in the radio, on national television and at the Gothenburg Book Fair. The book is in demand inside the institutions, I’ve heard, which feels especially good.

And it feels like things are starting to happen. Radio P4 Västernorrland has a series of reports on the abuses in prisons and detention centres. A relative of mine has come forward in the Prison and Probation Service’s staff magazine about how correctional officers provoke the inmates to have outbursts, and also bet on it, just because it’s fun that something happens. Absolutely disgusting things that come out. But at least they are coming out now!

It feels absolutely fantastic to be a part of breaking up the heavy silence culture, which has held back the Prison and Probation Service for a very long time.

This shows the incredible power of scholarship residencies and literary awards. Because Closed Institution would not have been created without those January weeks in Varberg 2023. A big thank you, Lasse, for giving me the opportunity to come to Leninland. And an equally big thank you to Eva Falk and Gustaf Erling.

But of course, an even bigger thank you for what I’m here for today: the Robespierre Prize. It is nice that it is Robespierre that the award is named after, because in addition to being one of the leading figures during the French Revolution, he was also a jurist. I’m studying law now. He helped introduce the first Declaration of Human Rights – a legacy I want to continue to manage. My ambition is to use the law to continue the eternal fight for our freedoms and rights.

It’s a fight that feels particularly important right now. A lot is happening in the world and in Sweden. The government works actively and systematically to dismantle the rule of law and the welfare society, the EU, NATO and big business are gaining more and more power, and the public service refuses to report impartially about Israel’s genocide of the Palestinians.

It can feel very dark.

Either you perish in hopelessness, or you organize and take a stand for what you think is important.

I choose that path.

I choose to continue to be humane and empathetic even when the world feels dark.

Therefore, it is with great gratitude I accept the Robespierre Prize and promise to continue working for justice and freedom.

Thanks.

Hello everyone!

My name is Amanda Werne and I am last year’s recipient of the Robespierre Prize. Now I have the honour to present this year’s laureate Fanny Klang!

She has published her debut novel Closed Institution, and I have read it. It evokes a great many thoughts and feelings about love and resistance in me. I think of the silent resistance, that which does not have to be preceded by theory, the resistance that is stirred up within us who are human in an inhumane system. The resistance can consist of something completely ordinary, something that you do not necessarily think is political. Something you would have done anyway. Like a crush, which crosses a line.

The spontaneous resistance, the unreflecting resistance, which is about living, the system can never catch up with. The resistance that is official, where you set your foot down and say here but no further, the system can respond to that, for example by firing you from your job as a prison guard. It takes a lot of courage to both fall in love and to speak up.

The advertising for working in the Prison and Probation Service has probably not escaped anyone. We know that practically anyone can be turned into a machine part. Made into a tool for the imprisonment. I think of when the life-sentenced Wallin asks the main character Jonna if she is free, and a hesitation arises. “Yes, but I would say so,” she replies. I immediately start thinking about the lack of freedom that goes beyond the role of guard or prisoner. There is a reciprocity in their conversation, which testifies that both are stuck in the same machine.

Closed Institution is a clear-sighted contemporary novel, which gives an apt picture of the society we live in. It speaks of a lack of freedom that is not specifically limited to the Prison and Probation Service but to society at large. The book is a declaration of love for the human, the genuine resistance, precisely because tyranny doesn’t care about the human. But it’s me, this is us, this is here, no reasoning is needed because resistance is natural when oppression is unnatural.