Update 03-11-11(2): So my last update was hastily written, and in anger. Now that I've had time to cool off and think clearly I'm feeling bad. So here's another, less in-your-face way of saying it:
Warning: this review contains cheekiness. Please do not be offended or take this review too seriously as it is meant in jest. If you are a serious Dresden fan this review is probably not for you. So you should just read another review, k. Have a nice day. :) Update 03-11-11: I've pretty much had it with you people. Apparently this review is "really offensive". But guess what? I'm not going to change it. It was written in jest.
What I am going to do is say that if Jim Butcher can write women as helpless little sex kittens and call it "noir-style", therefore OK, I can write a so-called "offensive" and "sexist" review, in jest, and still sleep at night. Got it?
I've spent a good portion of my married life wondering what in the heck is going on in my husband's head. To be honest, I just don't understand men in general. I don't get what motivates them to do what they do. I've been told that I'm over-thinking it, men aren't complicated. Apparently sex has a lot to do with the decisions they make.
I've spent a lot of time rejecting this idea, thinking it cannot possibly be true, at least not totally. Even my husband, man-child extraordinaire that he can be at times cannot be so basic, so primal. My husband is incredibly intelligent, has a wealth of knowledge stored up in that noggin of his. He's motivated by more then just sex... right???
Then, every once in a while, I go and read a book written by a man and I'm reminded that indeed, I have been over-thinking it. My husband, and all other men for that matter, are probably thinking about sex, or things of a sexual nature far more often than I could imagine.
When it comes to books written by men, more often than not the male characters describe women they encounter in a sexual manner. The descriptions don't even have to be dirty, in fact they usually aren't. But I still find it irritating when the most basic observations seem sexual. Besides, I simply cannot relate. When I see a man who is attractive I think, Wow!
or something like that. But I don't wax poetic about his bazillion abs and how much I'd like to feel them pressed up against me, or whatever.
I tend to focus on how I feel when I'm with people. For instance my initial attraction to my husband had to do with the fact that he made me laugh and I felt comfortable around him. Looks didn't factor into the equation.
(For the record: I didn't find him particularly attractive, at least no more then the next guy. Plus, he used to dress like a friggin' hobo. Had it not been for his awesome personality, his sense of humor, I wouldn't have been interested. For this same reason I have a massive crush on Conan O'Brien, no joke. Conan is sexy, but I digress).
My point is: because I don't exactly understand men, how they think, and how I'm left feeling disappointed by the tiny bit that does seem to make sense, I tend to avoid books written by men.
That being said, I don't totally dislike this series. There is a lot of potential here.
Jim Butcher built a fascinating world with some interesting and, as far as I can tell, original rules about wizardry and other things supernatural. For instance, the MC, a wizard, cannot meet the eyes of another person without seeing into their soul, and they his. It's so strangely intimate I can't help but be intrigued by the idea. And he has this assistant named Bob, who is actually a spirit stuck in a human skull--he's kind of like a grimoire, codex and a computer mixed together, but even better. And I like the idea of a wizard solving supernatural crimes. I don't know, the concept totally seems to work for me.
Overall, I sort of like this series and plan on reading the third book, even though I felt Fool Moon, the second installment in the Dresden Files was incredibly boring. Why I found this book boring is anybody's guess since it dealt with werewolves, and I tend to like werewolf lore.
Even the romantic element in this book, though semi-interesting, sort of fell flat. Heck, the sex scene, which was actually quite tasteful, happened at a really odd time. And Dresden cried afterward, which, really, circumstances being what they were, made sense. But still.
Fine. I admit it. It turns out ultra-sensitive men make me uncomfortable. I mean, crying after sex? Really?
Here's the deal, I was raised in a household full of boys. I have five older brothers. They didn't talk about their feelings and never cried in front of me, much--it has to be said: I'm not much of a crier. My dad was in the Marines for twenty years, he went to Vietnam. Both my parents are old-school and Hispanic to boot. Which brings me to my next point: even though I'm repelled by Harry Dresden's sensitive nature, I still find his old-school chivalrous manners appealing.
I know, I know--I'm (kind of) a fraud! I let everyone think I'm all about feminism, but I (secretly) like when men hold doors for me. Not because I can't do so myself--because I can and I do all the time
--but because it's just nice when somebody does that sort of thing, ya know? And while I like my independence, and I'm a strong woman (both physically and emotionally) I've always liked men with protective instincts--notice I said protective, not controlling.
Basically, I like knowing someone's got my back. This is why I sort of like Harry, despite his sometimes-wussy ways.
You probably think I'm not being consistent, that my reasons for liking this series are not exactly rational. You know what? You're right. What can I say? I'm a woman. It's my prerogative to be inconsistent and irrational. And anyway, things could be much worse. I could be a man, thinking of little else but sex all the live-long day. ;)