The original title of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was, in Swedish, "Men Who Hate Women." Ok, we get it. Every single woman in the book, or at least every single woman that has anything to do with the main story, has major man issues. It's not exactly discreet.
Let me count the ways so far:
- Rape/Incest
- Kidnapping
- Degrading media portrayal
- Misogynistic language
- Human sex trafficking
- Domestic abuse
Good lord.
Aside from the series being about a slight and slightly deranged woman on the war-path to avenge her battered mother, in the process becoming a victim of the system herself, there are other peripheral stories now coming up in the 3rd book that really make me feel like I'm being beat over the head with this depressing theme. For instance, Erika Berger, a prominent but supporting female character in the book, is now receiving messages on her email saying things like "WHORE" (wow), and other misogynistic epithets. I'm not sure what will come of this in the book, but I'm starting to get paranoid in my real life. I find myself staring at random men on the bus, or out my office window, and asking myself, "Does he hate women? Does he?" Because the way that Larsson paints the world, it would seem that every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to kill every female (or at least call her a whore) that he comes into contact with. Or maybe just in Sweden. This makes me never want to go to Sweden as long as I live - maybe the lack of sunlight during the winter months makes people crazy.
I have to wonder what kind of man Steig Larsson really was, and what kind of messed up childhood he went through in order to produce this series. What makes someone write a novel in which every man save one or two has crazy issues with women? Is that how Larsson himself experienced life? Or maybe, the women around him?
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Swedes Love Coffee.
Since starting the Dragon Tattoo series, I have become obsessed with all things Swedish. Including, of course, the language (which I heard for the first time after watching the movie version of the first novel, which was disturbing, but of course I knew it would be...). It's quite odd, and sounds something like a German/Norwegian hybrid with lots of "Ya, Ya" going around.
Something quite interesting about Swedish people that I did not know, is that they LOVE their coffee. And sandwiches. And 7 Eleven, apparently. In a quote from a New York Times review of the 3rd novel, with which I am currently engaged: "Larsson’s is a dark, nearly humorless world, where everyone works fervidly into the night and swills tons of coffee; hardly a page goes by without someone “switching on the coffee machine,” ordering “coffee and a sandwich” or responding affirmatively to the offer “Coffee?”
How hilarious. And how true - I feel hyper from osmosis after reading 10 pages. Swedes all over the world must be living with insane ulcers, sleep deprivation, really yellow teeth, and rather smelly breath.
Ok, back to reading.
Something quite interesting about Swedish people that I did not know, is that they LOVE their coffee. And sandwiches. And 7 Eleven, apparently. In a quote from a New York Times review of the 3rd novel, with which I am currently engaged: "Larsson’s is a dark, nearly humorless world, where everyone works fervidly into the night and swills tons of coffee; hardly a page goes by without someone “switching on the coffee machine,” ordering “coffee and a sandwich” or responding affirmatively to the offer “Coffee?”
How hilarious. And how true - I feel hyper from osmosis after reading 10 pages. Swedes all over the world must be living with insane ulcers, sleep deprivation, really yellow teeth, and rather smelly breath.
Ok, back to reading.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Fictional Pergatory
So, The Girl Who Stepped on the Hornets Nest (3rd in the Steig Larsson Trilogy) is taking me a long time to read. This is mostly because I am reading in 10 minute chunks before I pass out at night, and then 45 minute chunks twice a week at the gym. I think it's because I am losing some steam with the series. Last night, my fiance, Matt, asked me as I was reading in bed: "I thought you would be sick of those books by now." And I said, "I am, but I still can't stop."
Then I proceeded to read about a girl (Salander, our Unlikely Heroine) who got shot in the head and survived. But not only survived -survived by digging herself out of a shallow, loosely packed grave, with a bullet in her brain, using only a metal cigarette case as a "scoop." Sheesh. It's not even close to believable. There is not an iota of believable in this book so far (by the way, Salander also axed her crazy ex-spy father in the face, but don't worry folks, he's fine). So why am I still reading?
It's one thing to read books about talking trees, Hobbits, and a magical ring that can destroy the world. No one ever thought that book would be realistic. You can tell by the cover. You can tell by the author's name. So when you read about orcs, and elves, you aren't really playing it out in your brain as though it would actually be something that might take place in real life - you are thinking of it like a movie, and your imagination can run wild. It's a totally different type of reading experience.
Steig Larsson, however, promises murder, mystery, intrigue, and reality - and while he does deliver on most of those promises, he also gives us some weird pergatory where we are somewhere between real life and absolute craziness. Is he worried you woulnd't like his book unless something totally ridiculous and outlandish happened? Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't. For now, I'm still reading.
Then I proceeded to read about a girl (Salander, our Unlikely Heroine) who got shot in the head and survived. But not only survived -survived by digging herself out of a shallow, loosely packed grave, with a bullet in her brain, using only a metal cigarette case as a "scoop." Sheesh. It's not even close to believable. There is not an iota of believable in this book so far (by the way, Salander also axed her crazy ex-spy father in the face, but don't worry folks, he's fine). So why am I still reading?
It's one thing to read books about talking trees, Hobbits, and a magical ring that can destroy the world. No one ever thought that book would be realistic. You can tell by the cover. You can tell by the author's name. So when you read about orcs, and elves, you aren't really playing it out in your brain as though it would actually be something that might take place in real life - you are thinking of it like a movie, and your imagination can run wild. It's a totally different type of reading experience.
Steig Larsson, however, promises murder, mystery, intrigue, and reality - and while he does deliver on most of those promises, he also gives us some weird pergatory where we are somewhere between real life and absolute craziness. Is he worried you woulnd't like his book unless something totally ridiculous and outlandish happened? Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't. For now, I'm still reading.
Monday, September 6, 2010
An Unlikely Heroine: Dragon Tattoo Series
I'm on the third book of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo Series by Steig Larsson.
Honestly, I can't figure out why I'm so hooked on the series. The writing isn't really that great, the plotline isn't really at all believable, and the message or theme of the book is really pretty obvious. But somehow, I'm on the third novel in the series, and still truckin'.
I had the first book for years - it was given to me as a Christmas gift from Matt's mom, who is a librarian, and interestingly enough, speaks Swedish fluently. It sat, collecting dust, for quite a long time until my book club (yes, I am also in an actual, in the flesh book club) decided to read it. The first 60 or so pages felt like dragging my feet through mud in boots 3 sizes too big - in other words, difficult. After, that I was in deep.
Mostly, the hooking was done by the Femme Fatale of the series, Lisbeth Salander, who is a strange dichotomy of victim and badass. She is a piercing filled, tattooed, combat boot wearing, 5 foot tall tasmanian devil. I find myself both appalled at her bizarre behavior, but also somewhat obsessed with her and wishing I could emulate her. While she is my complete opposite in so many ways, there is also something - drawing about her.
Why is Lisbeth Salander so alluring as to drive me to read THREE books that focus on her crazy escapades (none of which are anything short of a real commitment in terms of reading time)? I think that what makes me love her so much is that she does everything precisely the opposite way that I would do them, and yet, really, what she is doing is what I might do if I had more guts, or more balls, or fewer nagging emotions getting in the way. A man breaks your heart without knowing it? Cut him out of your life completely, without a word. A man brutally sexually assaults you? Don't just tell the authorities and, in effect, ruin his life - ACTUALLY ruin his life with your own two hands. Part of me feels like my life would be smoother, simpler, if everything were so black and white.
Salander's type of justice is so poetic that I'm not sure there is really a place in this world for it - if everyone went around quite so vigilante and emotionless, our world might be cleaner, safer, clearer. In Lisbeth's world, there is no gray area. There is no good-ish bad, or bad-ish good. There is only bad, or good. And sometimes, I think that might be nice.
Honestly, I can't figure out why I'm so hooked on the series. The writing isn't really that great, the plotline isn't really at all believable, and the message or theme of the book is really pretty obvious. But somehow, I'm on the third novel in the series, and still truckin'.
I had the first book for years - it was given to me as a Christmas gift from Matt's mom, who is a librarian, and interestingly enough, speaks Swedish fluently. It sat, collecting dust, for quite a long time until my book club (yes, I am also in an actual, in the flesh book club) decided to read it. The first 60 or so pages felt like dragging my feet through mud in boots 3 sizes too big - in other words, difficult. After, that I was in deep.
Mostly, the hooking was done by the Femme Fatale of the series, Lisbeth Salander, who is a strange dichotomy of victim and badass. She is a piercing filled, tattooed, combat boot wearing, 5 foot tall tasmanian devil. I find myself both appalled at her bizarre behavior, but also somewhat obsessed with her and wishing I could emulate her. While she is my complete opposite in so many ways, there is also something - drawing about her.
Why is Lisbeth Salander so alluring as to drive me to read THREE books that focus on her crazy escapades (none of which are anything short of a real commitment in terms of reading time)? I think that what makes me love her so much is that she does everything precisely the opposite way that I would do them, and yet, really, what she is doing is what I might do if I had more guts, or more balls, or fewer nagging emotions getting in the way. A man breaks your heart without knowing it? Cut him out of your life completely, without a word. A man brutally sexually assaults you? Don't just tell the authorities and, in effect, ruin his life - ACTUALLY ruin his life with your own two hands. Part of me feels like my life would be smoother, simpler, if everything were so black and white.
Salander's type of justice is so poetic that I'm not sure there is really a place in this world for it - if everyone went around quite so vigilante and emotionless, our world might be cleaner, safer, clearer. In Lisbeth's world, there is no gray area. There is no good-ish bad, or bad-ish good. There is only bad, or good. And sometimes, I think that might be nice.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
A Book Club of One
I like to read. I like to read a lot.
Unfortunately, all too often, other activities take precedence over reading - for example, work, exercise, shopping (how much better would my credit card feel if I decided that instead of going on a crusade for the perfect fall boots, I went on a search for the perfect prose paragraph?). Reading at least one book per month was a new years resolution, inspired by my 4-month trip to Southeast Asia during which I read no fewer than 20 books.
In Asia, I read everything I could get my hands on that wasn't by Danielle Steel or in German, Dutch, or Australian, and wasn't a Lonely Planet. Some of the books were shameful and would only qualify as appropriate reading on such a backpacking trip, but I also fit in some real, life-changing gems: "Middlsex", "The Road", and "The Good Earth", to name a few. Reading became an obsession. As soon as Matt and I touched back down stateside at the end of our trip, reading once again took a backseat to the onslaught of other activities that were all of the sudden possible, such as eating fresh vegetables and drinking tap water.
8 months later, I am rekindling my love affair with books, and I am sharing my thoughts about them with the world, or anyone who cares to read them. I think it's safe to argue that the best part about books is that you can find yourself in them somewhere - that somehow, they hold common experiences and emotions, no matter how disparate the plot seems to be from your own life. Have I lived through a veritable apocalypse, only to be chased by stark-raving mad, gas-mask-wearing, gun-toting, blood-thirsty lunatics? No. Can I identify with the feeling of isolation, desolation, and desperate emotions of the protagonist and his young son? Yes. I have been there. I would venture to say that most of us have been there. I see, on a daily basis from my office window in San Francisco's Bayview neighborhood, many a man who probably feels those emotions, if he is not yet numb to them, every single moment of every single day.
And so, that is the amazing thing about books - and that is what I hope to chronicle on this blog. I hope this inspires you to read, and read, and think, and love, and learn. Feel free to comment - a Book Club of One could easily become a Book Club of Many!
Unfortunately, all too often, other activities take precedence over reading - for example, work, exercise, shopping (how much better would my credit card feel if I decided that instead of going on a crusade for the perfect fall boots, I went on a search for the perfect prose paragraph?). Reading at least one book per month was a new years resolution, inspired by my 4-month trip to Southeast Asia during which I read no fewer than 20 books.
In Asia, I read everything I could get my hands on that wasn't by Danielle Steel or in German, Dutch, or Australian, and wasn't a Lonely Planet. Some of the books were shameful and would only qualify as appropriate reading on such a backpacking trip, but I also fit in some real, life-changing gems: "Middlsex", "The Road", and "The Good Earth", to name a few. Reading became an obsession. As soon as Matt and I touched back down stateside at the end of our trip, reading once again took a backseat to the onslaught of other activities that were all of the sudden possible, such as eating fresh vegetables and drinking tap water.
8 months later, I am rekindling my love affair with books, and I am sharing my thoughts about them with the world, or anyone who cares to read them. I think it's safe to argue that the best part about books is that you can find yourself in them somewhere - that somehow, they hold common experiences and emotions, no matter how disparate the plot seems to be from your own life. Have I lived through a veritable apocalypse, only to be chased by stark-raving mad, gas-mask-wearing, gun-toting, blood-thirsty lunatics? No. Can I identify with the feeling of isolation, desolation, and desperate emotions of the protagonist and his young son? Yes. I have been there. I would venture to say that most of us have been there. I see, on a daily basis from my office window in San Francisco's Bayview neighborhood, many a man who probably feels those emotions, if he is not yet numb to them, every single moment of every single day.
And so, that is the amazing thing about books - and that is what I hope to chronicle on this blog. I hope this inspires you to read, and read, and think, and love, and learn. Feel free to comment - a Book Club of One could easily become a Book Club of Many!
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