In reaction to the literature of the 1940s and 1950s, which was much concerned with artistic form and individual approaches to life, the 1960s was a period of political and social commitment in poetry and fiction alike. Recurrent topics were the war in Vietnam and the Swedish welfare state, often bitterly attacked. Göran Palm, whose poems in conversational language describe everyday reality, was among the first to transgress the poetic conventions of the 1950s, while Göran Sonnevi’s poem “Om kriget i Vietnam” (1965; “On the War in Vietnam”) served as a forceful call to action for the young generation. While remaining true to his quest for social justice, Sonnevi later moved toward intellectual mysticism and expanded his thematics to love and existential issues. Independent lyric poetry continued to be produced by writers such as Östen Sjöstrand and Tomas Tranströmer, the latter a master of the metaphor and one of the foremost Swedish poets of the late 20th century. Birgitta Trotzig forcefully expressed in her novels a tortured experience of life, coloured by Roman Catholicism.

The movement toward—and subsequently away from—politically committed literature is exemplified by the work of Sara Lidman. During the 1950s she was one of Sweden’s most creative novelists, but she then ceased producing fiction in order to take part in the political debate of the time. After the late 1970s, however, Lidman returned to creative literature with a series of novels centred on life in an isolated community in northern Sweden. Sven Lindqvist went through a similar process; after a period of committed writing, he returned in En älskares dagbok (1981; “A Lover’s Diary”) to a more or less autobiographical novel of his own youth. Lars Gyllensten, a skeptical intellectual and experimenter, voiced through his novels distrust in all ideologies. In a search for a more ethical way of life, he often used historical figures—such as Socrates in Sokrates död (1960; “The Death of Socrates”)—as well as legendary ones—such as Don Juan in I skuggan av Don Juan (1975; “In the Shadow of Don Juan”)—to probe different attitudes toward life, only to discard them all; what remains in his works is the importance of openness. Political writing persisted in Sweden through the end of the 20th century, but it became more imaginative and less tied to immediate events. P.C. Jersild, for example, painted a chilling picture of civilization after a devastating nuclear war in Efter floden (1982; After the Flood); he had earlier demonstrated his talent in science fiction through allegories set in a state veterinary institution and in a hospital. In his multilayered, often metafictional novels, Lars Gustafsson railed against Sweden’s bureaucratic welfare society, which, he complained, stifled the unique in the name of egalitarianism. He is best known for his partially autobiographical Sprickorna i muren (1971–78; “The Cracks in the Wall”), called by some his Divine Comedy for its richness and broad scope. In it the protagonist progresses from his childhood hell to the terminal cancer patient’s private paradise of pain relief.

True to the 1960s’ distrust of fiction, authors such as Per Olof Sundman and P.O. Enquist turned to pseudodocumentary reporting that left the reader to draw conclusions and make judgments. Sundman, in prose reminiscent of the Icelandic sagas, and Enquist, in a politically conscious manner (as in Legionärerna [1968; The Legionnaires]), demonstrated the impossibility of objective narration. The step—which Enquist himself took in his later works—from noncommittal documentary prose to the historical novel, the dominant prose genre of the 1980s and ’90s, was a short one. Documents, while still the basis for fictional stories, no longer constituted the story itself. Also, writers used such narrative techniques as multiple narrators and intentional interruptions of narrative flow to retain the possibility of a range of interpretations. One such writer was Sven Delblanc, a philosophical thinker and brilliant prose stylist. In a series of novels charting the history of his childhood region, Delblanc provided a fascinating, albeit unidealized, portrait of rural Swedish society prior to World War II. His later Samuel tetralogy, which might be considered a psychohistory, traced his family’s harsh fates in Sweden and Canada in the hope of detecting meaning in a seemingly meaningless struggle for survival. Delblanc also has made use of large-scale allegory, and there is sometimes an almost mystical intensity apparent in his work.

The Swedish countryside of the past has been the setting for Torgny Lindgren’s novels, such as Ormens väg på hälleberget (1982; Way of a Serpent). He, however, was primarily interested in questions of power, oppression, and the nature of evil. Likewise, many of Göran Tunström’s novels are firmly anchored in his home region of Värmland. Originally a lyric poet, Tunström wrote prose rich in fantasy and humour and with a close affinity to music, as in Juloratoriet (1983; The Christmas Oratorio). His novels marked a return to the joy of storytelling.

Feminism, another manifestation of the politically and socially aware 1960s, brought forth a number of women writers who focused on the significance of the lives of seemingly insignificant women. Kerstin Ekman, initially a writer of detective novels, came to prominence with her meticulously documented Katrineholm series, which chronicled the lives of women in small-town Sweden. Another author who shed light on the underprivileged and socially defenseless, this time in the nation’s capital, was Heidi von Born. She approached her characters with empathy and psychological acumen. Agneta Pleijel, also an accomplished poet, found many of her subjects in history. The primary concerns in her novels are ethics, love, the role of art, and individual responsibility (as in Lord Nevermore [2000]). Other Swedish women authors at the turn of the 21st century were Sigrid Combüchen and Carina Burman, both writing historical novels, and the poets Eva Runefelt and Katarina Frostensson.

Lars Norén, regarded by many as the greatest Swedish playwright since Strindberg, has dealt with the love-hate relationships of modern dysfunctional families in emotionally powerful and sombre plays spiced with absurd humour, such as Natten är dagens mor (1982; “Night Is Mother to the Day”). Norén’s characters, like those of Strindberg, seem hopelessly locked into their closed family hell. In later works Norén left the home behind to explore the world of the “unseen”—prisoners, drug addicts, and those housed in institutions. He has, to the dismay of many, brought such people onstage to perform in his dramas, thus obliterating all borders between reality and fiction. Other successful dramatists include Enquist and Pleijel.