I don’t remember why I bought the book, but it must have been some kind of deal. Despite the sudden popularity of Stieg Larsson’s trilogy some time ago, I wasn’t really intending to read it. But people kept talking about it and I saw that there were film adaptations that actually looked kind of cool. In light of these circumstances, I certainly would have made this purchase with a few dollars knocked off.
That doesn’t mean I was intending to read it any time soon, though. I still, unfortunately, have this horrible bias against genre fiction, mysteries and romance in particular, and I have plenty of books that I’ve yet to read that do no fall into either of these categories, unlike The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. So what made me read this as my last pleasure-read before beginning work (by which I mean beginning ten months of reading for work)?
Well, it’s kind of embarrassing.
I’m obsessed with RIPT. Like, completely obsessed. I am quite close to being three-ramens-a-day poor, but I am a frequent purchaser of RIPT T-shirts ever since the design of the day that was a semi-obscure “Home Alone” reference (“Keep the change, ya filthy animal!”). In the meantime, I’ve developed quite the collection of book shirts, and my goal has become to have enough book shirts to be able to wear a different one to work each casual Friday – probably more for my own amusement rather than my students’.
This was my justification when RIPT sold the “Salander’s Dragon” design. I was in a pickle, and with RIPT you only have 24 hours to make up your mind. Do I buy the shirt because it looks badass and it’s a book that’s supposed to be equally badass? Or do I not because, y’know, I haven’t actually read the book and that would make me a complete and total tool.
Best compromise: I ordered it and immediately picked up the book to read and hoped for the best.
The book was badass.
Well-written, thankyougod, and expertly paced. Most characters are mostly likable despite obvious flaws. Most flaws are believable and don’t tend to wander into the realm of hyperbole.
Without getting into the details, what interested me about the first installment of the “Girl Who” trilogy is what seemed to be Larsson’s portrayal of commerce: both sex and money as currency. A case involving disturbing sexual assault is paralleled with embezzling funds. Salander is unable to reconcile a relationship when sex is not used as a bargaining chip. Blomkvist’s sexual practices differ only in (arguable) lack of violence from a serial murderer/rapist, and are as widespread as Wennerstrom’s funds. In fact, I would want to argue that Salander’s final dealings with Wennerstrom’s funds portrays the ultimate conflation of the two when Salander, who has become walking sex at this point, leaves a wake of financial ruin behind her.
That’s a brief summary of what fascinated me about the book, but I would need pages and pages to prove it. I realize how scattered it sounds. The bottom line, though, is that, even if you’re a genre fiction snob, the book is fantastic. It’s the first true and well-written page-turner I’ve read in… maybe years?
