This book has its own deliberate pace. We don't get to the "meat" of the mystery until the end of chapter 4 (page 92). Until then, we've got character development.

I felt a degree of sympathy for Mikael Blomkvist, and somewhat more for Lisbeth Salander, who both found themselves in situations beyond their control. None of the other characters (and, this being a mystery, there were lots) were especially compelling or sympathetic.

The book depicted several violent, disturbing episodes. One of the Amazon reviewers used the phrase "chillingly ugly," which is wholly appropriate.

Despite the length of the book, I was able to finish it in just a few days. Maybe I was reading quickly to get past the ugliness.

The writing was not particularly striking. I found it jarring when an 82-year old man described a relative as someone who "partied incessantly." Although, I don't know, maybe 82-year-old Swedes do talk that way.

The paperback version includes the first few pages of Larsson's sequel, The Girl who Played with Fire. It's more violence, and I'm not interested.