Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy has made me change the habit of a lifetime. I love the books and the films (so far). I love them equally. This has never happened before. Ever. I am always disappointed with film versions. Or I think that the films are better than the books they started from. (Frida, for example. Moving on.)
This time, I am enthralled with both. And it helps that I like series of books. I like them for the same reason I talk to my friends. Because I like the comfort of hanging out with a bunch of recurring characters.
As in life, I like to be challenged by what I read. Most of the time. But sometimes I want nothing more than to be with people I Iike. And, like my friends, I imagine the characters in my favourite books don’t care about my bad hair days, or that I don’t have a job at the moment. Or that if we’re hanging out at my house, I might not be wearing socks.
My friends are good people, I like them.
I like the characters in the Millennium Trilogy so much that I haven’t read The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest, yet. I don’t want this friendship to end. Yes, I know some might say these books aren’t exactly cozy reading, but I like it when the good guys get the bad guys. That doesn’t always happen in real life.
When I finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I recommended it/ threw it at my own recurring characters/friends. My own copy went around to three people. I bought it for one friend, and practically forced another one to buy it. I even suggested that Sarge buy it for his Mum last Christmas. Much the same happened with The Girl Who Played with Fire.
Yes, I am always that enthusiastic about stuff I like.
I also like the films. I like them as they are and don’t want them to be Hollywooded.
I saw The Girl Who Played with Fire last night, with Sarge. Or in this case, The Boy Who Still Has Not Read the Book. I got home and in a freakish example of life imitating art, discovered that hundreds (ok, tens, not hundreds) of spam emails had attempted to send themselves from my email address. After running virus scans at one in the morning (thank you, Sarge), I am de-bugged. Turns out I wasn’t even bugged, but I am de-bugged. While not a cool thing to come back to, I have to admit it was an interesting situation to deal with after seeing a film about a computer hacker.
I am going to stop here, in order to start reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest. Even though I don’t want it to end. Although when it does I suppose I could re-read the books. But that’s something I very rarely do. There I go, breaking another habit. Anything for my friends.
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