Its title lets it down, since you’ll likely be disappointed if you go into this book expecting more “dead girl” content than it delivers.
These essays are beautifully written: poignant, sharp, elegant, neurotic in a self-aware and interesting way. They just weren’t what I thought I was going to get, and because of that, the latter two-thirds of this book were a slog. I zipped through it, highlighting what felt like every other paragraph.
My favorite essay, “The Husband Did It,” is largely about and Gillian Flynn’s characterization of hapless, pathetic, misogynistic husband Nick Dunne, and it’s a straight banger: Bolin is witty, funny, and sharp as a tack, and here is where it shone the best.
) obsession with “dead girls,” and what that means for the very-much-alive girls and women who live in a world full of that kind of laden, violent imagery.
The problem is that a good deal of this book isn’t about dead girls at all.
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Joan Didion’s writings on the Manson murders, and more.
There are also many essays about non-crime and crime fiction related topics.
With the emergence of digital media, the relevance of print media have been fiercely debated (Gomez, 2008; Leatherbarrow, 2012).
The advocates of digital media supremacy bring to light the idea of the death of print media.