John C Summitt

Being mistrustful of bestsellers and apprehensive of trying to keep track of all those similar sounding Scandinavian names, I put off reading this book for quite awhile. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and, after picking up the first one, read straight through all three books. Initially I thought my worst fears were confirmed when the author embarked on a lengthy expository interlude to provide background on a newly introduced character but as the characters become established in the reader's mind the pace picks up. It is the ability of the author to deftly create and handle believable characters, particularly Lisbeth Salander, that really propels the story forward. The only criticism I have, and it's a minor one, is the author's penchant for the flights of exposition, but in this case it doesn't bog down the story. One could do a whole lot worse than read these books.

Not for the faint of heart, this book is about the violence that men do because it is their nature to do it. They act with animal savagery but in the purposelessness of their actions cannot even aspire to that of animals, whose purpose is to eat. The apocalyptic figure of the Judge, who moves through the story relatively unscathed, does so because he alone openly embraces the nature of humans. The biblical tone of his prose underscores very effectively the complete lack of moral purpose of the characters in the book. Cormac McCarthy is not humanity's greatest cheerleader and he doesn't disappoint in this book.

Dennis Lehane can be a good writer when he wants to. There are flashes of his ability in this collection but too often he careens from cliche to self conscious attempts at being literary. The stories aren't bad but the play is frankly embarrassing to read at times. Maybe David Mamet can successfully have characters recite soliloquies that no one in real life would ever say but not Dennis Lehane. Dennis, go back and watch The Wire–Omar never talked like that.