I recently finished the third book in the Millennium Trilogy, aka “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo books.” And you know what? WHATEVER, Stieg Larson. I am not convinced that these works are a testament to his (purported) feminism, nor am I convinced that they needed to be as EFFING LONG AS THEY WERE, MY GOD. Toward the end there, I was just soldiering on, determined to push through to the end. A literary Bataan, if you will. And now that I’m on the other side, and have reflected on the series as a whole, I say again: WhatEVER, Stieg Larson. Except he’s, uh, dead, and basically, my only recourse at this point is a rap. A rap covering only my issues with the first book, since I know a lot of people haven’t read the others yet. (Even though I’m not spoiling, so much as I am…whining. Via rhyme.) Here we go:
Lisbeth Salander, master computer hacker!
Loves snoopin’ in yo’ Gmail, and her lipstick can’t be blacker.
Pierced all over, with a big-ass dragon tattoo.
That’s how you know she’s “dangerous,” to me, you, and you.
Mikael Blomkvist, financial reporter, of sorts!
Nondescript and middle-aged, or so the book reports.
Doesn’t pour on charm or make any maneuvers.
TOTAL sense that homeboy’s a…walking panty remover?
(Eyeroll! Eyeroll! I’m rolling my eyeballs!
It’s silly and unreal, but I’m in for the long haul.
Now lemme get back to the topic right here,
Like how Mikael met Lisbeth and—hold on, I need a beer.)
Mikael’s sued for libel by some Swedish billionaire,
We drill down to minutiae about which no one cares.
He’s facing jail, he’s desperate, and he needs to find a way…
A dude named Henrik Vanger then swoops in and saves the day.
Asks Mike to help him with a family mystery, if he can;
In return he’ll help bring down that bad rich Swedish man.
Mikael agrees and Lisbeth gets her tattooed self involved,
Mystery, you’d best get set to get yo’ ass SOLVED.
The book then takes a turn for the…hyper-detailed.
Computer models! Names of highways! BOOK, YOU HAVE DERAILED.
Someone else’s groceries! Then more direction stuff.
What’s next? A camera manual? MY GOD, LARSSON, ENOUGH.
I just don’t care how they all got from point A to point B.
Unless something blew up, Die Hard-style, or crashed into a tree.
TONS of wasted pages on trip routes: “South, then northwest…”
Come on now, yo, Stieg Larsson-- this ain’t no damned MapQuest!
Coffee! Coffee! Everyone drinks coffee!
They pace, run, and get shot at, and then crack the mystery.
You think the book is over, since the puzzle has been solved.
And then we’re back to…Swedish Baddie? It’s all too involved.
Another hundred pages; and at last the book is done.
But not before I get confused, like in Trig 101.
Implausible behaviors and absurd logic abounds.
Even the explanations do nothing but confound.
All that said, it’s riveting, the story keeps you hooked.
There’s just a lot of extra crap that's muddling the book.
I truly get why it’s been so prominently featured.
I liked it like Lisbeth loves her Billy’s Pan Pizza.
*No one had to do it.