Last night I finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. First, I loved the book, as unkind as the subject matter was. The thing I did find odd is that the book is named after a character that appears in less than one third of the book. But oh well.

Kids book, too simple, too predictable. However, it remained fun and kept my interest. Yeah, read into that all you want, but it made for a fun quick read. I can see why it became popular.

This one annoyed me. No, I haven’t seen the film. But the whole thing probably makes more sense to stoners. There was the interesting “cop spying on himself” thing that could have been better. Then the whole “you were double double double crossed” thing weaved too deep and too late to make sense. I hope the film made it easier to follow, by the end I wanted it to just stop.

Now, if you’ve read any Neil Gaiman, you’ll realize, the guy is about 20 degrees off of level. This is all sorts of awesome. Let me tell you why.

If you read some of my previous posts, you’ll know that I’ve read enough to see some annoying patterns in books, or at least I complain about them a bit. The thing is, every time you pick up something by Gaiman, you never, ever, know what’s coming. How he’s able to keep surprising me I don’t know. Even the books by him that I don’t like enough to read again are awesome. Like I won’t bother with American Gods again, but I loved it in its way. Neverwhere I’ll be back to again soon.

Having said that, I can see how someone might mistake this for a children’s story, especially since someone made a rather gorgeous movie out of it. But make no mistake, I see this as a dark moral movie, not something I would show children. The movie, again, was beautiful visually. I liked the reworking of the story they did for the screen. In now way would I let anyone under 16 watch it though. Okay, I could see the book for a 14 year old, but the subtle mastery of it is wasted on anyone younger.

Anyway, I loved the original book after having seen the film first, which is an accomplishment that’s hard to repeat.

It might be that I’m just too much of a guy for this book. I expected something far different than what I found while reading. I never quite reached the point of suspended disbelief here. The heroine is too perfect, the stupid love triangle thing appears AGAIN, etc. etc. etc. I wanted something different and didn’t get it. Maybe that’s why I was so glad it finally ended so I could start Desperately Dreaming Dexter.

I don’t know. Graceling, you just pushed on, eventually going along for the ride until things got fun. In this one, it never gets fun.

Holy.

Cow.

I hope this lady keeps writing. At the end of the first book, I was entranced. At the end of the third, I cried. This is some seriously good writing. I’m going back to these again sometime soon.

SPOILER TIME!

In the future, people are manufactured a-la Ford. All instances of the word “God” or “Lord” are replaced with “Ford”, as he is their deity. This is mainly to piss off the reader. People have purple eyes or something. This is some side effect of the test tube people-growing process (Matrix anyone?), which they are very proud of. Parenting as we know it is a lost art, replaced by – wait for it – pills. All your needs are cared for by pills (watch Equilibrium). Some disgruntled stooge and his floozy go out to go camping and see “natives” in Arizona, and come home with a “civilized woman” that was lost on a camping trip 40 years ago, and her *gasp* natural born son. They return, the woman doses herself to death on the magic pills, and the son is the only person that can feel any sympathy for the dying, so he throws a fit, gets dragged off to the Principal’s office, and they go all poly-sci theory on him for a while. Somewhere along the way he falls in love with the girl that went camping and discovered him, but when she offers to sleep with him for nothing, he calls her a whore and decides that people are scumsucking meatsacks. He decides to go live au-natural off in the fields outside London (hah!). The New World people catch up with him and notice that he’s taken up self mutilation because he’d rather feel pain than make sense. At this point in the book, you’re hoping he hits an artery. It turns into a media circus, he shouts at them, they ask him to hit himself again. The reader cheers with the crowd. The girlfriend-wannabe shows up, boy hits her (presumably killing her, it’s never made clear), and an orgy breaks out. He wakes up and hangs himself.

Real feel-good book there.

The point is, this book, while it may have been somewhere between shocking and progressive during the ’30s, is just pointless now. I can see it as maybe the first place that many people will have encountered some of these ‘ideal society’ ideas, but the modern versions are more current, more polished, and closer to home. Save yourself the time – leave it on the shelf in the public library.

This one is about a cutting-out expedition by our heroes. The characters are distinct and memorable, the setting is good, and it has that Crichton-ish feel for the environment. Yeah, I know, stupid sounding, but oh well. Just don’t let facts get in the way of a good naval romping good time and it is quite enjoyable.

When I got to the halfway point, the story that I figured was the main plot was done. Then I realized there is a lot more book coming. So, puzzled I marched onward, and it took on a subtle twist I should have expected. And now, another quarter book in, things are still not resolved.

Can’t wait for the drive home!

Yes, I know it’s a book by a girl. And I’m starting to notice that entirely too many girl-written books have the same attributes:

1. Girl hero character is always object of hidden, secret love that comes out in book, even when it does nothing for the story.

2. Love triangle thing always happens.

3. Girl hero is always right. Even when it’s illogical, and stupid. Because she just is.

4. Girl hero character sleeps with forbidden member of love triangle in 85% of these books.

Which begs the question – are girl authors not getting enough action? Or is this just playing to the audience of girls that don’t get enough action? Either way, I’m getting tired of this pattern.

Flipping the same flashlight on guy-written books you get:

Action books:

1. Manly man hero character is always allowed to kill someone. At any time. With anything. And rarely gets hurt.

2. Manly man rarely if ever has secret burning love of character in book. Either they’re in bed or he’s forgotten.

3. He’ll just jump in bed with whoever.

Fantasy books:

1. Wimp at beginning of story is wronged.

2. Wronged wimp suddenly discovers magic/fantastic power or lifelong friend.

3. Wronged wimp and comedy tagalongs must escape/take on noble journey.

4. Immediate family or equivalent bond is sworn to kill them, or everyone, or both, or destroy the world, or whatever.

5. Powers have no cost, and are entirely overused.

6. Readers lose interest and only finish out of commitment to finishing what they started in the dire hopes that it gets better, which it never does.

Scifi books:

1. One neat or perhaps clever idea is presented at the beginning as the crux of a theoretical society.

2. The idea is beat to death.

3. Every instance of, “Dammit!” is replaced with a slightly altered version that reflects on point 1, such as “By Space!”, or “By Selden!”, as if it made sense.

4. Every other aspect of human life is ignored as a convenience to the reader. The only elements left to these societies is science, politics, and sex. Love, art, music, children, funding, etc. cease to exist. Conveniently.

Back to Vanishing Acts.

There are a few things that I liked. The pace was good. The characters were okay. The imagery was good. The shock value was up there. But why in the world does it have to follow the girl pattern? He has always loved her, but left it alone for her happiness. She’s had CharA’s baby, but decides suddenly it’s time to jump beds and take up with his and her Other best friend, because once you’ve had one guy’s baby, why not have the other one’s too? He gives up Everything to be near her.

Has this woman not been to Louisiana? Has she not met women before? Has she not met a GUY before? Which leads me to the obvious alternative: they’re symbolic. So what do they represent:

Hero Girl: I stopped maturing at 17 and my hormones are uncontrolled. I’m the mental projection of every locked-in housewife south of the snowline. I’m slim, attractive, emotionally wrecked, always right, and nothing is my fault!

Baby’s Father: I’m the drunk you fell in love with in high school and wonder what would have happened if you stayed with. I clean up, become a lawyer, and then go back on the bottle, so aren’t you glad you broke up with him/me? And when we break up and you take away my baby, I give in because you’re always right, and nothing is your fault.

Best Friend: I’m the intellectual and moral backbone of your friendships in high school that you wish you had slept with (or slept with more). I should get the girl, so in this book I will! I will leave my job and home to follow you around. Aren’t I cooler than the person that provides for you? Wow, you’re always right.

Dad: If I were real, you’d love to have had me instead of whatever defective real people brought you up and cared for you. I represent the overidealized parent that would do anything. Wouldn’t you rather have me than your own parents? I thought so. Because you’re always right.

Really girls – get over this. It’s ruining your books.