Thursday, February 24, 2011

The Dysfunctional Girl with the Dragon Tattoo


After completing the reading for class it seems like a theme that is constantly being expressed in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is dysfunction and the mystery associated with the dysfunctional relationships. The book starts off describing the crazy results of Blomkvist’s trial against Wennerstrom. The audience is presented with the story of Blomkvist receiving the inutile allegations of international financial fraud from his childhood friend. We are positioned to question the friend’s purpose of planting these allegations in Blomkvist: Did he intend to set up Mikael or were the rumours about Wennerstrom true? The results of the libel case also punished Blomkvist’s magazine, Millennium. The magazine is facing retaliation from Wennerstrom, a change in leadership, and a backlash from employees and financers. The ineffective allegations led Blomkvist to pursue Herr Vanger’s freelance assignment. We become aware that the Vanger family and Wennerstrom also have some unavailing relationship and start to ponder whether the mysteries surrounding the Blomkvist / Wennerstom and Vanger / Wennerstrom conflicts are connected. Through Mikael working on Harriet’s case and the Vanger autobiography, the reader is overwhelmed with the Vanger family’s façade. To the outside world the Vanger family appears to the be the highest echelon of refinement, but we discover that the family is filled with perverse ideologies, addicts, and abusive men. The social condition has gotten so hectic that many family members no longer communicate with each other. And Henrik Vanger’s accusation of a family member killing Harriet has only added to the maladjusted family structure. Even Lisbeth Salander embodies this dysfunctional theme. She is extremely introverted and socially impaired. In multiple instances Salander is at risk of being institutionalized. At this point in the reading we are unaware of what caused Lisbeth to become the woman she is now.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo...Zzzzzz


So far I am kind of underwhelmed with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. With all the buzz circulating around the book about it being on the New York Time’s Bestseller list for 40+ weeks and the rumors of the book being adapted into an American movie, I expected so much more. This book was actually on my list of novels to read this last summer and I am glad I did not get the chance to read the book by choice and was forced to read it for a class. If it was up to me, I may have stopped reading the book just after the first hundred pages. The beginning   to this novel just did not captivate me like the previous novels we have read thus far. The three previous books had some feature that quickly made the reader invested in the plot: Sunset Park utilized an eccentric point of view and sketchy scenarios, Little Bee also shared an unconventional mindset about a serious subject matter, and Fun Home used humor and graphics to grasp the reader’s attention. The majority of the introduction to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was wasted on paying too much attention to details on setting up the characters and plot. Since I was familiar with the plot of this novel I was just dreading all the foundational fluff and dying to get to the actual mystery that has received so much acclaim. I will admit that the story picks up once Blomkvist reaches the Vanger compound and starts the case, but then we are faced with another slew of pages filled with boring details of Vanger family members.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Looking Past the Pictures...

While I really enjoyed Fun Home, the ending of the book still left me with many questions concerning with the classification of this memoir/ graphic narrative. As a self entitled ‘connoisseur of graphic novels’ I find it peculiar how we (the class) describe Fun Home as a graphic novel or comic, but if you look at the back cover the reviewers express it as, “one of the best memoirs of the decade”, “hyper-verbose example of autobiography”, and even “a true literary achievement”.  I found it bizarre how all of these noteworthy columns failed to mention the primary element that makes this story so special: the ability of Alison Bechdel to convey such serious subject matter through images.

The sheer lack of not acknowledging the comic strip format almost cheapens the work. I don’t understand how so many columnists could equate a couple sentences of commentary as verbose. I think the reviewers are so wrapped up in the idea of this work presenting a memoir or autobiographical element instead of a fantastical narrative that is common in comic strips that they just focus on the words. Yes, the sentences in the captions deal with issues prevalent in contemporary English literature, but the words are only half of the equation.

Another interesting point in the classification of Fun Home is the irony in which this work is considered a novel or prose while her previous book, Dykes to Watch Out For, which is also in the same graphic format is considered a graphic novel. Both pieces of work contain aspects of Alison’s real life. I think we should recognize Fun Home as a graphic novel, because it shows that we are transcending our typical definition of literature.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

An Unjust Justice


So over the weekend I was doing the reading for Little Bee and brainstorming different ideas as the focus of my paper. I’m trying to write about a minor character that seems to be one dimensional, but after a deeper analysis reveals a more rich and vivid meaning to the work.  The character that sticks out most to me in this regard is Charlie or Batman. I feel that the role of Batman is more than a personification of concealment or facades. In my opinion, the role of Batman is to provide the reader with this child-like idea of justice. Charlie is able to organize his world around a basic concept: “Are you a goodie or a badie”. The audience uses Charlie’s simplistic outlook on justice to re-evaluate the decisions of the other characters.

If you’re a badie then you must be stopped at all costs, but if you’re a goodie then one must do all in their power to help you. This virgin presentation of justice starkly contradicts the decisions and situations of the other characters: Why would a young girl be held in prison for two years when she has not committed a crime? Why would someone watch a person kill themselves as a form of revenge? I guess I’m approaching this in the psychological school of thought. It seems like Cleave is trying to show us how our morals can start out either black and white but with age fall into this cloud of gray. I get the sense that Cleave is instructing the reader not to have a gray interpretation of justice.

Some would argue that this idea isn’t valid, because Charlie (a goodie) plays a naughty trick on Little Bee so that he can watch television before breakfast. I would argue that it wasn’t Charlie would played the trick, but Batman instead. Batman is a morally ambiguous character so he is able to tread the boundaries of good and evil while maintaining a strict view of justice.