"There's a killer on the road"

Finally I've come to the point that I can acually sit down and write my critique about the second volume of Stieg Larsson's Millenium trilogy, The Girl Who Played With Fire. As you may remember, I wrote about the first volume as well, some time back in October I think. Or maybe November, but never mind.

I don't often read this kind of literature, i.e. contemporary blockbuster mystery novels or how shall I call it, but I really liked the first volume, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. The protagonist referred to by the title is Lisbeth Salander, whose name I think a clever choice. She is a kind of weirdo, indeed a very complex one. She is one of the world's best hackers, a former juvenile delinquent, a bisexual, and also a paranoid. She is short and thin, dresses like a punk, has tattoos and piercings all over her body. I should say she's a bit of an exaggeration of the poetic mind. I don't want to re-tell the first volume here, let me refer to just one more important person, namely Michael Blomkvist. He's a super-dooper investigative journalist and also a kind of playboy in his forties. At least he frequently pops up in female characters' beds, without much exception.

Okay, now let me tell why the second volume was bit of a disappointment. First of all, too much bullshitting going on. The book exceeds 700 pages, out of which about 200 could have been spared. I think reflections and explanations referring to the first volume were 90% superfluous. I felt like reading the Harry Potter series, where after more than a hundred pages Harry still hasn't arrived to the school. Secondly, I really don't give a damn about who's making love to whom, in which position, et cetera. I mean, there are certain points where it actually adds something to the whole, but definitely not in this book. And finally, too much description. Every time a new character pops up, however minor, our dear narrator provides his birth certificate, criminal record, and a detailed description of his physical appearance. Come on, didn't this guy think that readers actually have an imagination of their own?
The story itself and the characters also disappointed me to some extent. One point I felt really unmotivated is Lisbeth having her breast operated on. How come that a total punk, who must of the time wears black and looks like shit wakes up one day wanting big boobs? After that she even starts to get rid of some of her tattoos and piercings, even her wasp tattoo, which is said to be an important one.
I think it was a good idea to make a suspect of Salander in this volume and focus on her life a bit, but the way it turned out wasn't too original. Okay, let's accept the evil father-weak mother cliché and childhood tragedy as the base of the later course of events. But why a giant killing machine for a half-brother? Are we reading a Latin American screenplay or what? And breaking free from the grave, is it adapted from Kill Bill, come on. Oh, and I almost forgot the superstar boxer. Of course who else should have trained five feet tall young Lisbeth than a heavyweight champion with an Argentinian-sounding name?
All in all, I think the author wanted to make something really big, that's why he allowed for such extremities. Lisbeth's personality is also too much of an exaggeration for me, and after witnessing her cruelty it's hard to identify with her. I don't even think she's consistent, at least I can't imagine how pure love can live together with such cruel intentions as hers. Nevertheless, for some reason I like her character and I'm curious about the final volume. Let's hope it won't be a drag.

P.S. I forgot to mention the poor swearing vocab. Maybe it's just the English version but it's ridiculous, really. Shit and fuck all over. Sounds like teenage boys in the school loo.