What, in fact, did I know about Sweden? The Swedish table, the Swedish wall, and the Swedish family. Even though the Swedish buffet is an exercise ladder bolted to the wall, my imagination insistently draws a furniture set at the mention of this phrase. What do I know about Sweden now? О. Judging by the contents of the book, half of the male population of this country are either sadists and Nazis, or cuties like the world has never seen. Except for the main character, of course.
As a journalist and editor of the magazine Expo, Larsson was active in documenting and exposing Swedish extreme right and racist organisations. When he died at the age of 50, Larsson left three unpublished thrillers and unfinished manuscripts for more. The first three books (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Fireand The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest) have since been printed as the Milleniumseries. These books are all bestsellers in Sweden and in several other countries, including the United States and Canada.
The main character is such an exceptional specimen, of which there is only one in Sweden. Such a sweetheart. He so unselfishly bestows his physical love on both the old and the young, so sincerely rejoices when he succeeds in giving pleasure, that tears come to my eyes from tenderness and I want to go urgently to Sweden, find Mikael Blomkvist and demand my share of great and pure, and most importantly totally unselfish, physical love. And if the character is fictional, demand it all from the author.
Stieg Larsson took so long to harness that after getting through the first third of the book, I wasn't sure if he and I would ever get to the main intrigue of the narrative. So anyone who wants to read the book needs to be patient and obediently absorb information about all the problems accumulated by the main character, all the deviations of the main character and all the turmoil shaking the media space of this small but proud country. And this does not guarantee the reader the resolution of all the questions that have arisen in the course of the narrative. You see, there's some "All That Shit" that happened to the main character that we only know happened. But to be honest it doesn't bother me much, because by the end of the book my head is so full of all the details of the work of publishers, hackers and moral and ethical problems, that I don't have any strength anymore to deal with some shit, even if it is with a capital letter.
Actually I understand that this book is the beginning of a series, but still I am haunted by the question, why is it called that? It's supposed to be called "A Man in Full Bloom," Karlsonchik, darling. It's some kind of tribute, some kind of tolerance. Think about it, naming a book after a white, perfectly dependable and, characteristically, healthy man is now a mauvais ton. It is quite another matter - mentally unstable girl with a whole complex of problems that prevent her social adaptation - almost like an invalid. Which means that there is nothing to pick on. In fact, if there had been a Negro African in the book, she could have been given an Oscar even without the adaptation. What ghouls, perverts and scumbags it does not contain.
On the whole, however, Larsson's work is a credit to itself. A very well-crafted piece that transcends the thriller genre by virtue of the mass of issues it raises and the detail in which they are worked out. It is somewhat tiring, due to the fact that it overloads the narrative, but the volume and quality of the work is impressive. In addition, the author managed to sit on two chairs. The book presents different attitudes towards asocial personalities like sadists and maniacs - a sharply negative one, broadcast by the heroine and somewhat softened, broadcast by the hero, so that the reader can choose which side to take at the end of this gruesome story. Besides, ladies and gentlemen, I can assure you that tons of books written by feminists can hardly be compared to this one, which makes you feel a natural hatred towards some male representatives and a strong desire to poke someone with needles, after you hit him in the attic with a baseball bat, of course. Several times. It is clearly defined that there are these things and there are normal and nice men, of whom, however, as I said, there is only one in all of Sweden.
I'm not sure I'll continue with the series, although I was hooked on the book. Partly because I feared the sequel would be weaker, partly because this book seemed somewhat tedious. But I certainly don't regret reading it. And, in general, I recommend it to fans of the genre.
This article was sponsored by Bianca Lazu
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