This morning, literally minutes before someone on Twitter posted Nora Ephron’s cheeky sendup of Lisbeth Salander and “Kalle Fucking Blomkvist” from The New Yorker, I told my friend R.:
me: I finally finished HORNET’S NEST and hated it so much
myfriendr: Expository.
Turgid.
me: Tell don’t show, the Stieg Larsson motto!
myfriendr: the whole book was tell, tell, tell. Not a single scene rendered.
NB: R.’s AIM name has been changed to protect him, because he truly is innocent — he is not about to go on record saying that he dislikes The Book That Saved Publishing 2010.
I share that exchange with you as a way of showing you — take note of that, “showing you” — that I have been annoyed about the Stieg Larsson phenomenon for a while.
Before you flame me, dear readers, let me state a few facts:
1. I have read all three of the Stieg Larsson Lisbeth Salander novels in their entirety.
2. I am an avid mystery reader.
3. I have read a great deal of Swedish mystery fiction, including most of Mankell, a great swath of Sjowall/Wahloo, and all of Peter Hoeg, and some Jo Nesbo.
I just want to forestall the inevitable “If you’d read the books, you’d know how good they are!” and “You must just hate mysteries” and “You obviously don’t get the Swedish crime fiction mentality” comments. I’ve read the books, I love mystery novels, and I have even interviewed Henning Mankell in person.
Now let me explain what it is I truly don’t like about Larsson’s books, and then you can feel free to flame me for those opinions.
If you’re reading this blog, you probably already have heard the phrase “Show, don’t tell.” It’s thrown at writers of every age and stage. Even elementary-school students are reminded that they can show that a character is angry instead of simply stating “He was angry.”
Of course, it isn’t as easy as it sounds to “show” rather than “tell.” If it were, there would be far more beautifully written books. Unfortunately, because people believe that they are “showing” things simply by writing them down, there are many, many badly written books.
I won’t try to argue about whether or not Stieg Larsson is a good writer or a bad writer. What I will argue is that his Millennium Trilogy is rife with telling: “He was anything but pleased.” “In spite of his respect for Astrid Lindgren — whose books he loved — he detested the nickname.” And so on and so on. We never “see” anything in Larsson’s books, because the author is too busy describing the most mundane moments. Why do we need to know exactly how Lisbeth Salander puts her groceries away? The passage to which I refer from “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” does not in any way enhance our understanding of her much-mentioned but never confirmed Asperger’s Syndrome, or any of the other DSM-IV categories into which she might fall. It simply tells us how she puts the groceries away.
But the most important thing about the “Show, don’t tell” rule is that by showing and not telling, authors allow readers to take an active role in stories. One of the things I most detest about commercial fiction, even at its best, is that by telling us things it takes away our ability to feel those things, to imagine those things, and to react to them with authentic emotion.
I welcome YOUR authentic emotions, now, about The Millennium Trilogy. Thanks for reading!
I give this an authentic “hurrah!”
Or, rather, “she nods her head vigorously, shouting ‘amen!’”
I read the first two books but was left feeling so “meh” after the second one that I have no desire to even glance at the third. Larsson’s writing makes me feel detached from characters and uninterested in what happens to them, and I can’t help but think that that’s a problem caused by his tendency to tell rather than show because, hello, his characters are in some pretty interesting situations. Glad I’m not alone!
You gave away your real reason for disliking the trilogy by saying “One of the things I most detest about commercial fiction, even at its best…” (And Larsson’s books are nothing if not commercial.)
Thanks for at least confessing your bias. When you detest a category, it’s not surprising you dislike books in that category.
I’m totally with you – I’m reading the final book in the series and I seriously wondered if I couldn’t just skip an entire 10-page passage about how SAPO was created – and you know what, I could!
I don’t see this so much as a failure of writing (although Larsson IS a plodder as a writer, and I’m surprised a whole host of Swedish jokes haven’t sprung up – fuelled by the Danes or the Norwegians, because those Scandinavians like nothing better than to poke fun at each other) as a failure of editing.
In the first book there were mind-numbingly endless descriptions of outdated computer equipment – RAM and TB were mentioned – I was surprised a huge debate about processing speed on Macbooks didn’t ensue.
All I can say is I’m very glad I’m a fast reader. I started this series in an intrepid spirit of wanting to know what all the fuss was about since the guy had three books simultaneously on the New York Times Bestseller list. Now I just want to get it OVER WITH. Because I have to say, the one really good thing Larsson’s managed to do is to create a character in Lisbeth Salander with whom one can really empathize.
Thank you, thank you, for this. I’ve read all three Larsson books, with some enjoyment, but was never entirely satisfied by the experience (even ignoring the more preposterous bits of plotting in Book 2.) I couldn’t work out why, but you’re absolutely right – the sense of detachment that I felt, may very well have been down to all that telling. Another mystery solved!
I have been somewhat baffled as to why these books have been so wildly successful. Do you have any ideas?
I am one of those who loved the series (after resisting the hype for a while) but I can see your point about telling rather than showing. For me, though, that made some of the plot twists more intriguing — mundane mundane mundane then BOOM.
Interesting take. I have not actually read any of the books yet but have been debating whether I should. I’m also a mystery fan but don’t have too much patience for the less well-written ones. (I should say that I don’t have any good reason for not reading them–I just haven’t.) I’ve been thinking I might listen to the first as an audio book, as I expect different things from those. Now, I’m tempted just to see (hear) all the telling for myself.
You know, I really was sucked into the first book. I liked its obstinate insistence on unfolding the minute details of policy and politics within the Swedish society; it had a long story to tell and nothing could deviate the narrative away from the telling. But when I got about 1/3 into to the second book and Lisbeth was just about to be kidnapped by sadists, I put it down. Sure, I intended to finish, but as more weeks went by, I never did. I’m not masochistic enough to want to see it through to the end of a third volume. Life is too short to get tangled up in books I don’t feel like finishing. That’s why the slush pile will never get me, unless of course some fine local publisher wants to pay me to dive in.
I’ve never read these books purely because they don’t sound like the kind of thing that would interest me. But they’re so ubiquitous that it was starting to draw me in: I nearly looked at the blurb in one in a book shop.
But you’ve saved me money, time, and disappointment. Thank you.
I read …Dragon Tattoo because it was up for awards at Bouchercon last year. It did not work for me at all, and it may be because of “show, don’t tell”. I found the characters distant, I didn’t find any of them to be the “good guys”, and there were crimes committed by almost every character. The sex crimes were pretty explicit, and more was told than necessary. Just my opinion. I won’t read any of the others.
You saw Nora Ephron’s piece yesterday didn’t you? It was hilarious. Haven’t read the books, but after this and Ephron’s piece, I believe I will skip them, I have enough good stuff on my tbr pile. Thanks!
[...] read what Bethanne Patrick wrote over on her Book Maven blog about how important it is for an author to s…*. Oh my gods, kids, Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer is about 250 out of 263 pages of telling. I felt [...]
[...] and a geography challenge “set somewhere in Scandinavia” July 4, 2010 The Book Maven explains why she doesn’t like the Millennium Trilogy. Personally, I agree with her criticism, but I [...]
Thank you for pointing out the unexplored Asperger’s link to the Salander character. It took me quite a while to get into DRAGON TATTOO, much for the reason you’ve explained here. At the end, I felt the book exploited the voyeuristic nature of so much commercial fiction. I won’t be reading the second two books.
Had all three plinked down before me as a birthday present. Thirty pages into the first, eyes practically bleeding, I tried to return for store credit. No receipt, no dice. So I plodded on. Got tricked into starting #2 because of the small ray of hope at the end of #1, that LS actually felt a shred of genuine love for MB (although why, I have no idea).
Don’t fall for it, kiddies. Checked the end of #3, no light at the end of the tunnel, so I give up. Too much telling, not one character who’s likeable or decent, too much righteous blather about violence against women while serving up plenty of the same as titillation, and most unforgiveable of all, committing identity theft against Keyser Soze.
I haven’t read the “The Girl…” series–and as I’m not normally a mystery fan, don’t know if I’ll like them–but I applaud you for going against the hype and publishing a negative review. Too often we bookish people feel the need to slobber over (what you aptly called) “the big books that saved publishing 2010.” Why? No idea, other than we’re so afraid people have stopped reading altogether, we fawn over “the next big thing” if only because it has garnered some attention and is proof that books sell. The more these books sell, the more we hear publicists and reviewers worshiping them.
What we should be doing, instead, is recognize that sometimes (oftentimes) popular books suck. Sales figures are not always signs of quality. (Surely we all remember The Da Vinci Code and the entire Twilight series.) And just because there’s hype, that doesn’t mean the book necessarily deserves it.
Kudos for not drinking the kool-aid. It’s not I respect you more for being negative; no, I respect you for your honesty. I have been thinking of reading/reviewing this series for some time (the hype was getting to me), but now I think I’ll wait until some of the craziness dies down. Hearing that Larsson is a multiple offender of the “show, don’t tell” rule has already turned me off. Thanks for the heads up.
After hearing so much about the Millennium trilogy, I decided to dish out and buy it. I finished reading “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” and I’m almost finished with “The Girl who played with fire” and I feel bewildered about Larsson’s writing style. There are parts in the book that I shake my head at in disbelief because it’s so absurd; like describing Salander’s groceries or how every single character in the book only eats sandwiches (there has something else to eat in Sweden!), not to mention that there is way too much back story.
Overall, Larsson has the ability to keep you reading and wondering what’s going to happen next.
I can’t stand Larsson’s writing. I heard about how great these books are, so I decided to read them. Dragon Tatoo was OK. Larsson’s obsession with tiny details that serve no purpose nearly drove me crazy. The actual story got me through.
But then I made my biggest mistake. I thought to myself, “keep going, people love these books.” So I picked up Girl Who Played With Fire.
Ugh. Everytime he described how many Billy’s Pan Pizzas she bought I wanted to bash my head on a table. And while I’ve never been to Sweden, I find it hard to believe that 90% of the male population are such cavemen and meatheads.
I haven’t finished Fire yet becuase I’m finding it incredibly difficult to keep my interest, but I keep pushing through because I am unable to not finish a story once I’ve started.
I’m one of the people who greatly enjoyed the trilogy. I guess I’m not bothered by his “Tell, don’t show” style of writing–I had no trouble growing attached to the characters, especially Lisbeth. (Use your imagination a little bit.) I also enjoy people getting revenge against conspiracies big and small, as well as clever plot twists and satisfying finales.
You want to know awful? You mentioned that you interviewed Henning Mankell. I actually bought one of his books and decided after 40 pages that I could never empathize with his protagonist and that the book was taking me to a place of pure misery–seriously, I finished the book in my head by thinking “and then the murderer hit the protagonist over the head with a shovel and buried him, the end.” Give me Stieg Larsson’s worst novel anyday . . .