Stieg Larsson's trilogy was all the rage several years ago--fueled by the release of movies in both Swedish and English--and somehow in all the media frenzy I became convinced that I had read them. While killing time in an airport bookstore this summer, however, I took the time to read the back cover of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and found that I hadn't, indeed, read it. I hopped on my iPad, downloaded the digital version, and soon became engrossed in the story and characters.
Prior to starting the novel, I mentioned it to my mother, a connoisseur of mystery novels, and she told me that she read Dragon Tattoo but didn't continue with the trilogy because it was too "dark." With my reading tastes, that was a bit of an endorsement. I also found that the pacing, storyline, and character development were engaging, and the cultural differences in the book made me less sure of what was going to happen next. Indeed, the relationships between characters, the description of political and social institutions, and the few bits of trivia I picked up about Larsson's Sweden were the things I most liked about the book.
In addition to exposing/discussing violence against women in an unsettling manner (the darkness my mother referred to), Larsson also does a very good job of making a societal misfit--the Girl of the titles--empathetic. The clash between the standard opinion of her and the view that a few others develop once they know her is startling, and it caused me to reflect on how this might be true in daily life. I did like the first book a bit more than the second, but that won't stop me from going on to read the third in the trilogy.
I've heard mention of a few other Swedish authors I should check out if I liked these books, but I don't recall their names. If anyone has recommendations, please comment below.
Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Sunday, June 5, 2011
32: The Godwulf Manuscript, by Robert B. Parker (first published 1973, iBook edition)
My mother, Carolyn Chamberlin, is a prolific mystery reader, and she has mentioned Parker's books--and particularly the Spenser series--on many occasions. My sister Sarah recently jumped on the bandwagon and started reading the Spenser novels as well, so I figured I had best get aboard lest I be left behind. Unsurprisingly (considering the sources of my recommendations), although I'm not as keen on mystery fiction as my mom, The Godwulf Manuscript ended up being a good read--just the right thing for summer and/or travel reading. Parker's wit and attention to period/cultural detail make reading this novel a bit like taking a trip back in time to the original publication date of 1973.
Spenser is a well-educated cop-turned-private-detective in Boston, and at the beginning of the novel he is hired by a university to locate a stolen 14th-century illuminated manuscript. The process of doing so leads him into various fights and shootouts, as well as into the arms of a few women. In fact, though, it's not the crime part of this book that attracts me, so much as Parker's portrayal of his main character and the time in which it was written. I'm sure the book was popular when it was first published--as evidenced by the almost 40 books in the Spenser series--but I think it's even more interesting to read it now. Spenser's heavy-drinking, free-love, tough-but-slightly-hippyish behavior and attitude rings right for the time, and who can resist a man dressed in the following: "Gray, hard-finished slacks with medium flare, blue paisley flowered shirt with short sleeves, blue wool socks, mahogany-colored buckle boots with a side zipper, broad mahogany belt with a brass buckle" (Chapter 21). Today's hipster would be proud.
I must admit that Spenser comes off as a bit of a pompous jerk at times, but he's a funny and lovable pompous jerk, and it's fun to read the first book in a series and know that I'll get to see the main character develop and grow through the rest of the books. And, now that I've jumped on the bandwagon, I have every intention of enjoying the ride through to the very end.
Spenser is a well-educated cop-turned-private-detective in Boston, and at the beginning of the novel he is hired by a university to locate a stolen 14th-century illuminated manuscript. The process of doing so leads him into various fights and shootouts, as well as into the arms of a few women. In fact, though, it's not the crime part of this book that attracts me, so much as Parker's portrayal of his main character and the time in which it was written. I'm sure the book was popular when it was first published--as evidenced by the almost 40 books in the Spenser series--but I think it's even more interesting to read it now. Spenser's heavy-drinking, free-love, tough-but-slightly-hippyish behavior and attitude rings right for the time, and who can resist a man dressed in the following: "Gray, hard-finished slacks with medium flare, blue paisley flowered shirt with short sleeves, blue wool socks, mahogany-colored buckle boots with a side zipper, broad mahogany belt with a brass buckle" (Chapter 21). Today's hipster would be proud.
I must admit that Spenser comes off as a bit of a pompous jerk at times, but he's a funny and lovable pompous jerk, and it's fun to read the first book in a series and know that I'll get to see the main character develop and grow through the rest of the books. And, now that I've jumped on the bandwagon, I have every intention of enjoying the ride through to the very end.
Friday, December 31, 2010
1: The City & The City by China Miéville (2009 paperback)
I've had Miéville's book on one of my many unread-books shelves for some time. I'm not sure what inspired me to finally pick it up, and once I began to read it I started to wonder how I ever came to own it. I don't remember buying it, although those who know me understand that this means nothing in itself; I regularly buy the same book twice and can rarely remember the name of an author or book a month after reading it.
The mysterious origins of this book ultimately seem appropriate, as the book is a mystery as well. More specifically, it is a fantasy murder mystery set in a world where two cities--in two different countries--exist on the exact same geographic location. This is not a split city/country like East and West Berlin or North and South Korea, however. In this modern, vaguely Eastern European landscape, residents of Ul Qoma and Beszel have been trained since birth to "unsee" and "unhear" the people, buildings, vehicles, and events in the overlapping foreign city through which they walk every day--seeing and participating only in activities within their own city. The causes of this division are lost in the cities' centuries-long histories, which have also served to create a complex system for preserving the separate entities: architecture, clothing, language, technology, food, and even colors are specific to each city. Those who venture across borders--which may exist right next door and which can be crossed by something as simple as an open stare--are subject to retribution from a completely autonomous force known as Breach.
Like most good murder mysteries, the book begins with a detective and a body: Inspector Tyador Borlu and a young woman living in Ul Qoma but found dead in Beszel. While originally hoping to turn the case over to the mysterious Breach forces, Borlu instead finds himself enmeshed in a case that straddles two countries, uncovers possible conspiracies, and raises the question of whether a third entity--a city between the cities--exists which controls it all.
While the book's premise offered me challenges in the first few chapters, my confusion slowly resolved itself as the means by which the cities were separated became clear--end even logical. Miéville makes the implausible wholly believable and he tells a darn good yarn along the way. I've added his other books to my book shopping list and will likely report on a few in the coming year.
The mysterious origins of this book ultimately seem appropriate, as the book is a mystery as well. More specifically, it is a fantasy murder mystery set in a world where two cities--in two different countries--exist on the exact same geographic location. This is not a split city/country like East and West Berlin or North and South Korea, however. In this modern, vaguely Eastern European landscape, residents of Ul Qoma and Beszel have been trained since birth to "unsee" and "unhear" the people, buildings, vehicles, and events in the overlapping foreign city through which they walk every day--seeing and participating only in activities within their own city. The causes of this division are lost in the cities' centuries-long histories, which have also served to create a complex system for preserving the separate entities: architecture, clothing, language, technology, food, and even colors are specific to each city. Those who venture across borders--which may exist right next door and which can be crossed by something as simple as an open stare--are subject to retribution from a completely autonomous force known as Breach.
Like most good murder mysteries, the book begins with a detective and a body: Inspector Tyador Borlu and a young woman living in Ul Qoma but found dead in Beszel. While originally hoping to turn the case over to the mysterious Breach forces, Borlu instead finds himself enmeshed in a case that straddles two countries, uncovers possible conspiracies, and raises the question of whether a third entity--a city between the cities--exists which controls it all.
While the book's premise offered me challenges in the first few chapters, my confusion slowly resolved itself as the means by which the cities were separated became clear--end even logical. Miéville makes the implausible wholly believable and he tells a darn good yarn along the way. I've added his other books to my book shopping list and will likely report on a few in the coming year.
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