Well I'll be damned, she can read!

Just when you thought there was no possible that I had any interests other than TV, here I present my interest in TV's slightly higher-brow cousin: novels. I say slightly higher-brow because I've never really understood why reading, as a pastime, is not only completely acceptable, but downright admired, but watching TV is laughable at best and pathetic at least. I don't doubt that there's a whole lot of time-wasting, soul-sucking crap on TV, but I contend that there's at least the same ratio among books. There's a lot of really terrible literature out there (and I use the term "literature" loosely (very, very, very loosely when it comes to a certain series of vampire novels)), but it's just harder to quantify. It's very easy to watch two minutes of a show on TV and deem it awful, but it's harder to throw a novel under the bus until you've read the whole thing. I think it generally boils down to the fact that TV has a broader base and is absorbed more quickly (more people have seen the same shows than have read the same books).

Anyway, I think the primary reason reading is held in higher regard is that people aren't willing to investigate further. You can say that you're an avid reader and people will generally take it at face value. If they happen to probe far enough to get a reading list, odds are whatever you're reading isn't what your interrogator is reading (with a few, very popular exceptions) and they just leave it at that. With TV, you mention a show that you watch and even if the person has never seen a whole episode, odds are he or she has seen or heard enough about it to make a quick judgment. Books? Not so much... What are these "books" you speak of? That's why people just pretend they've heard of whatever you're reading and leave it at that.

Anyway, this all came up recently when I was lent a book that turned out to be a slutty romance novel starring vampires. It's a long story, but for those of you who work with me, you know all too well that A Quick Bite (note how I've conveniently included a hyperlink to Amazon) was well worth the time it took to read the first 10 or so pages. Wow... So bad, so cringe-worthy, so smutty, so amateurishly written, so unintentionally hilarious... It was confiscated before I could read any further, but just the first few pages alone had me rolling in the aisles... Anyway, the person who had lent the book initially (this was a friend of a friend recommendation--the person I got it from didn't actually want to read it, so Ann suggested that I read it and report back) apparently has read scads of these novels and thinks of himself as "well read." Yikes people, quality matters. You may read 500 books a year, but that doesn't make you "well read." (I tend to think of myself as "well watched".) But sadly, when this person is asked about his pastimes, he can simply say, "I'm an avid reader," and gets a nod of admiration. It's not fair, I tells ya. Not fair at all!

Diatribe over, moving on. As an English major, I spent the better part of my higher education (and K-12 education, for that matter) being required to read things. Nothing makes a book less fun to read than a deadline and an essay test at the end. Plus, my rebellious "I kinda sorta hate authority" sensibilities didn't help with my work ethic. By and large these requirements were classics, and while I could appreciate why they were classics most of the time, it didn't make them any quicker or easier to read (especially when you have to parse each and every line for subtext and crap). I've read a hell of a lot of classics and enjoyed the majority of them. This indoctrination, however, led to my exclusion of regular books. Even my extra-curricular reading somehow turned into an overview of the great works of literature. Again, enjoyable in its own right, but not exactly the carefree, quick read that one can wrap up in a weekend.

This ridiculously long, meandering preamble leads me to the point of this post [Whoa, whoa, there's a point?! I'm a little shocked myself.] I have recently decided to throw caution to the wind (read: classics to the bottom of the stack) and read some novels that came out within the last century and that don't require an Old English to English dictionary. It has kind of reminded me how fun and effortless reading can be after a long, protracted affair with the English department. It has been a welcomed change of pace and I've stumbled on to a few winners.

THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO
(by Stieg Larsson)

I mentioned this book recently in a post about Spooks and lamented the fact that the title had been changed for the English version. As you may have read, the real translation of the book's original Swedish title roughly equals "Men Who Hate Women". Having read the book, I can unequivocally say that that is not only a much more appropriate title, but more provocative and interesting as well. With its American title, I would never have even picked up the book had it not been recommended by Felicia Day. Fortunately, I gave it a shot and it turned out to be one hell of a read. I can see where the real title would have been a bit off-putting, but believe me when I say that the author was most certainly not a man who hated women and if anything, the book is an unflinching, scathing indictment of men who do. It's also bitingly critical of bigots, racists, anti-Semites, sexists, sexual predators, abusers of power, and just about anyone else who deserves a good lashing.

From that description, you'd probably think this book is incredibly heavy and serious and would be a terrible slog to get through, but the serious subject matter is handled in a very straight-forward, unsentimental way that is woven into a gripping narrative. Larrson doesn't belabor his points, but rather just presents the events as they happen and the reader draws his or her own conclusions. It's extremely effective without being overbearing.

The central storyline revolves around the disappearance of a 16-year-old Harriet Vanger, some 40 years prior. (I'll try to keep this spoiler free, but for a sprawling murder mystery like this, that's not going to be easy. You've been warned.) One of the girl's elderly relatives, Henrik Vanger (I believe he's her grandfather's brother--you figure out how "second" or "third" or "removed" that makes him) employs an unlikely person to figure out what happened to the girl. Through an intricate series of events, Mikael Blomkvist, a disgraced financial journalist begins the daunting task of unraveling a mystery that is steeped in family intrigue, betrayal, suspicion, and hatred, using little more than a dead-end police report, some old photographs, and the family secrets imparted along the way. In his pursuit of the truth, he ends up employing an even unlikelier cohort in an attempt to crack a decades old cold case. Lisbeth Salander, a socially-inept, uncompromising, badass hacker is enlisted and uses her skills in conjunction with Mickael's to get to the bottom of the mystery. It's impossible to go too far beyond that without giving away some fairly spoilery details.

Although the book is nearly 600 pages long, I could hardly put it down and finished it off in only a couple of weeks. The first 30 or 40 pages were a bit rough to get through, so don't be deterred. The first chapter revolves around Swedish financial journalism and a case of libel... which, shockingly enough, didn't exactly have me chomping at the bit for more... Once you get past that, however, the novel jumps right into the mystery storyline. I was pretty surprised at what a thrilling page-turner it ended up being and was delighted and engrossed till the very end. Seriously, it's one of those novels where you get to a certain point and you just have to finish it. That point came for me at about 200 pages from the end--all of which I read the same day.

Larrson does a wonderful job building characters that you truly care about. They mystery is the basis for the book, but it's also a captivating character piece. Mikael and Lisbeth come across as very real, very complex people that you feel like you truly know. Even the massive Vanger family is home to several fully-formed, individual, specific characters, each of whom serves a purpose. In spite of the sheer number of characters in the family, it's pretty easy to keep everyone straight (although admittedly, the family tree which was so handily provided was very helpful from time to time). The novel had me guessing from beginning to end and I really felt like I was along for the ride as Blomkvist and the captivatingly odd Lisbeth Salander try to crack the case. I'm a sucker for mysteries to begin with, and this one was a doozie. The pacing is excellent and even the most seemingly benign of scenes is written in such a way that you can't help but sit up and pay attention.

Although the book was completely enthralling basically from cover to cover, there were parts that were difficult to read simply based on the nature of the scenes. Some truly, truly horrible things happen and I cared enough about all the characters that I was horrified and anxious and nervous the whole time--henceforth with reading 200 pages in a sitting. If the book were made into a TV show, it would have the standard "some of this material may be disturbing--viewer discretion is advised" disclaimer. I wouldn't want anyone to shy away from the book for this reason, and I don't think it's really necessary, but you should know what you're getting into.

I'm not as well versed in reviewing books in the same capacity that I would TV, so you'll just have to bear with me on this. I'd definitely recommend The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and I definitely plan to read the two follow-up novels. (The author actually died a few years ago with three unpublished manuscripts to his name. The first two have been published and I hear the third is on its way.) With a final note regarding the English title of the book, there is a girl with a dragon tattoo, but the tattoo itself isn't all that central to anything at all. The English major inside me has a complex theory about why it was re-titled that, and it's a pretty satisfying theory I must say, but it's only referenced obliquely in the book and I really need someone to bounce my ideas off of. So, if you end up reading this (or already have), we might need to discuss the significance of the tattoo. :)

And if that wasn't enough of an incentive, there's a fair amount of Swedish references as well, so really, who could resist? (Seriously though, the place names meant absolutely nothing to me, but fortunately most of the human names were pretty normal.)

I was actually going to discuss several of the books I've read recently in this post (including the superb Water for Elephants and the fun, English-y, quirky The Eyre Affair), but I think this sucker is sufficiently long as it is. Without any new TV premieres to look forward to and various shows headed for winter break, I think I'll save those for a rainy day.