Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way--
I'm going to share another embarrassing little tidbit about myself -- one I'm sure I'll later feel self-conscious about sharing.
I've seen THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (y'know the movie version that came out less than two weeks ago?)
Four times.
I'm stinkin' obsessed.
All right.
Glad I got that off my chest.
I guess I feel a little foolish because it's not even that great of a movie -- not the kind of movie a person sees four times in the theater, anyway. It's no TITANIC. If one really thinks about it -- between reading the book and seeing the Swedish movie a couple of times, I've probably witnessed the "Dragon Tattoo" story close to 7 or 8 times. I thought I put it away last year, but seeing the new movie brought it all back and, lately, I can't stop thinking about it.
However, it appears I'm not necessarily alone in this. There seem to be a few other enthusiasts who are equally spellbound and unable leave it alone.
I'm not going to sugar coat it or dance around it. We all know why the franchise works. It's certainly not the piffle of a murder mystery, or the Nazis or the middle-aged journalist. No -- it's one Lisbeth Salander... and also her weird, paradoxical bond with the middle-aged journalist.
Check out the stuff that's being written about the recently released film. In addition to the usual cavalcade of reviews, there are a lot of legitimate essays being dedicated to psychoanalyzing and breaking down the appeal of Stieg Larsson's ultimate troubled heroine.
With this blog entry, I thought I'd nix being unique in favor of adding my own hearsay to the noise that's already being made.
People talk a great deal about Lisbeth's wherewithal and sense of justice -- how despite being taken advantage of, she never allows herself to become a victim; how despite being a total waif, she can totally kick everyone's ass; how despite her looking like Sid Vicious... she's a genius.
There's inherent appeal in somebody that looks very threatening, but is actually just damaged -- somebody who, despite the damage done her at the hands of other human beings, can be loyal and even heroic. In short, it's all about contrast. In this day and age, it's always the hero that looks like the villain that captivates us most. Maybe it's because in this day and age, we live in a "nobody can be trusted" mentality and the line between good and bad is so often an ambiguous one.
Personally, I like her quiet shift in character. At the beginning of the story, she's unable to so much as look at another person in the eye while talking to him/her. By the end, she's willing to risk her life for another human being. This is the particular strength of David Fincher's film. We really attain a sense of how Lisbeth warms and grows. Pay close attention to the scene where she lies in bed next to Mikael and quietly confesses to him that she burned her father alive when she was twelve, or the scene where she plays chess with her brain-damaged former guardian, Palmgren, and tells him that she's finally made a social stride by making a friend. (Actress Rooney Mara is a friggin' virtuoso)
Anyway, I'm more than a sucker for this type of character arc -- the skittish, a-social personality who learns to trust.
There are hundreds of other aspects of Salander to be fascinated with. Clearly -- otherwise there wouldn't be so many articles and dissections. Contrasts, retribution, mystery -- the list of items that makes us empathize with and feel curious about her are a "how-to" list for writers on creating engaging characters.
But here is why I feel compelled to write this blog entry nearly four months after my last feeble post. It's something that critics and analysts have breezed by, but have never genuinely speculated on or tried deeply to evaluate.
It's the fact that author Stieg Larsson, in his younger years, witnessed the gang rape of a young woman named... wait for it... Lisbeth -- and he let it happen, not making any attempt to stop it.
This is a horrible thing -- unfortunate on many counts, but no. I'm not writing this post to talk about brutality toward women or to push some feminine agenda. I'm here to talk about writing and to add my two-cents to a popular topic of discussion.
I think about Stieg Larsson and his writing these Millenium trilogy stories -- and that he just watched as that horrible, unfortunate thing happened those many years ago -- and the nasty guilt he must've felt about it; how that girl, that Lisbeth, probably burned herself onto his conscience. I think about that girl named Lisbeth living somewhere in Larsson's subconsciousness, begging for help and retribution... and I think about how in the smallest of ways, through writing his stories, Larsson might've been able to "help" her and find a sense of peace within himself over the incident.
That's what writers are supposed to do, after all -- take things we care about and wear them on our chests. When we write about what we're uncomfortable with or ashamed of in our lives... most especially when we write to try to redeem ourselves for past mistakes we've committed -- that's what readers respond to. They feel something because WE feel something.
We feel crappy for Lisbeth because Stieg did too -- and that, for me, is the greatest storytelling lesson that DRAGON TATTOO bears.
I am inspired to NOT feel ashamed at putting my past mistakes, flaws and, yes, my embarrassments (like the fact that I've seen this particular film 4 times in the theater) out there for all to see -- like a big ol' tattoo on my back.
Because personal discomfort makes for the most engaging and emotionally resonant stories.
Thanks, Stieg Larsson, for that.
Ciao for now.
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