The Quiet Mother

A Detective Konrad Novel
By Arnaldur Indriðason
Translated by Philip Roughton

I got my start in reading Icelandic Mysteries at just about the same time I started this blog. Jar City was the first, and the first title in English by Arnaldur as well. 12 million copies later, this book came out. A pre-Covid novel, it was first published in Icelandic in 2019 and only released in English in 2025.

Dectective Konrad is retired from the Reykjavík police force yet still receives request for assistance, in this case from Valborg, a woman who is looking for a chld she gave up for adoption nearly 50 years prior. When the woman is murdered, Konrad’s sense of duty brings him onto the case, augmenting and sometimes crossing Marta, the official investigator. Konrad has mysteries of his own from the past, notably a charlatan con-man father who ran fake seances with a partner as a way of fleecing wealthy widows. His father had been murdered too, and the thread of connection between the two stories is in these ‘supernatural' elements, whether real or contrived.

This is one of Arnaldur’s better plots—it’s not just a rehash of earlier books. His writing, always concise, is honed to a razor edge here and is very readable, new characters are introduced naturally, and even the Icelandic names are (relatively) easy to follow. The story has some deep human currents going on under the surface which Arnaldur handles with tact and grace. The city of Reykjavík becomes another main character, those familiar with it will enjoy an extra dimension in his descriptions. Special note must be made of the integration to the plot of legendary nightclub Glaumbær, which burned in 1971. It was located where the National Gallery now sits, on the other side of the wall of the apartment where I usually stay when I’m in the city. Philip Roughton’s translation is unfussy and elegant. One niggle: The stock cover photograph of the church at Buðir has nothing to do with the story. It would have been nice if they could have had a vintage picture of Glaumbær or some other city landmark featured in the story.

Highly recommended.

More on Arnaldur here…

Another Kind of Doll Story

The Girl By the Bridge
A Detective Konráð Novel

By Arnaldur Indriðason
Translated by Philip Roughton
Minotaur Books, 2023

It was October, 2018. The Weaver and I were heading into Reykjavík from the airport when I spotted an electronic billboard touting Stulkan hjá brúnní, the latest title from Iceland’s most renown mystery writer. It wasn’t until this year that I was able to read it in translation.

It was worth the wait.

The novel begins on the small bridge over Tjörnin, the pond in the center of Reykjavik, a place where I have walked dozens of times. It is 1961 and a young man spies a doll in the water at the pond’s edge. He investigates further and finds the body of a girl. The narrative jumps to a birthday party a few weeks later where we are introduced to Eygló, a 12 year-old girl with psychic abilities, who has an encounter with an apparition of another girl who mysteriously disappears after saying “I lost her.”

Flash-forward nearly sixty years and we find retired Detective Konrád who is called upon to conduct an informal search for the granddaughter of a notable Icelandic couple. The story takes off from there, with the usual mix of druggies and lowlife who are somehow tied into the death of the girl who was found at the bridge. Eygló reappears with information about the dead girl. Konrád’s back story is nicely integrated into the plot, I’m looking forward to seeing how the long arc of that story develops. In a pleasant deviation from the usual dectective novels, Konrád does not develop a love interest (perhaps because he's in his seventies.)

This is solid writing, terse, with a good translation by Roughton. Lots of local references makes it fun to read if you’ve spent time walking the streets of Reykjavík (if so, have a map handy when you read this). All of that said, as with most of Arnaldur’s novels, there are lots of interviews with elderly witnesses, not exactly thriller material. Multi-generational cover-ups are a recurring theme of Arnaldur’s books. There are three more books in the series yet to be translated.

I’ve reviewed most of Arnaldur’s translated output over a time span which matches this blog’s existence exactly. During that time he’s sold millions of books while all I have this goofy blog with its 20-30 daily visitors! Recommended.

Mondays in Iceland -#123

The Darkness Knows

A novel by Arnaldur Indriðason
Translated by Victoria Cribb

It has been a few years since there have been any new English translations of novels by Arnaldur Indriðason. Arnaldur is best known for his 14 Detective Inspector Erlendur novels, he has been writing and publishing in Icelandic regularly but I suspect that the recent explosion of translated Icelandic novels has caused a backlog (this book was first published in 2017 and is just now available in English.) When Arnaldur started his career (in the late 1990s), he was one of only a handful of Icelandic writers being translated into English. Now there are dozens of quality books by Icelandic authors making the ‘leap across the pond’ every year—truly an embarrassment of riches. The golden age of Icelandic literature is NOW.

The Darkness Knows is the first novel in a series featuring Konráð, a retired Reykjavík police detective. The story begins when a tour group discovers a body frozen in a glacier. The body belonged to a man who went missing thirty years previously and the chief suspect in his disappearance (who had never been charged) had become close to Konráð, uncomfortably so, and so asks to see Konráð after he is re-arrested. Konráð meets with the man, who protests his innocence but in such a way that there remains doubt about his story. There are also sub-plots concerning a victim of a hit-and-run accident and Konráð’s relationship with his father (who was a minor criminal and conman) who had died when Konráð was a teen. I suspect that relationship will be more fully developed in the later books (there are already three more that have yet to be translated.) Konráð, a widower, is a melancholy figure (but not nearly as cranky as the Erlendur character was in that previous series) but has a much darker backstory,  which I also assume will also be explored in future books. The writing, as is usually the case with Indriðason, is terse and direct, making the somewhat complex story line easier to follow and, if you are familiar with Reykjavík, the description of the story’s settings add color to the story. The plot is logical, but still manages to take a sharp turn or two. I found the ending to be surprisingly touching. One of the joys of following Indriðason’s novels is the ‘slow burn’ of character development over the series. This augurs well for the remaining titles—or it just might be that I find a perverse pleasure (self-identification?) in reading about idle pensioners. Konráð is the antithesis of a television action-detective.

Victoria Cribb’s translations, after a shaky beginning, have become faultless—she is now one of the best in doing Icelandic to English.

Recommended.

The Gathering Storm

Black Skies

A novel by Arnaldur Indriðason
Harvill Secker, London, 2012

Originally published in Icelandic in 2009 as Svörtuloft (The Black Fort), Arnaldur Indriðason's second crime novel without Inspector Erlendur is set in Reykjavík in 2008 during the run-up to Iceland's financial meltdown. This time the main character is Sigurdur Óli, an investigator in the homicide division of Iceland's CID.

A convoluted plot involving sex, blackmailing and murder is set into motion when Sigurdur tries to help an old school chum who is being shaken down for his involvement with a "swingers" group a couple of years earlier. The list of persons of interest expands rapidly, taking the detective into the dazzling world of the newly-rich banking class. The author further explores this class stratification in a parallel story about a pathetic young alcoholic whose demise is not completely unrelated to the corruption that Sigurdur uncovers at the top.

This may be the most unrelentingly bleak of Arnaldur's crime novels since Voices. Sigurdur Óli's distaste for much of Icelandic culture (he prefers American Baseball and Football) is fully justified by the actions of the novel's characters. Arnaldur does use the City of Reykjavík as a vivid backdrop to the story; there is a lot of background here for those bitten with the "Iceland bug."

Convergence

“It’s all one great big bloody mire.”

Nordurmýri, Reykjavík, 2004

Jar City, A Reykjavík Thriller, by Arnaldur Indriðason, Thomas Dunne Books, 2005

Promising Genomics, Iceland and deCODE Genetics in a World of Speculation, by Mike Fortun, University of California Press, 2008

Under the Glacier, by Halldór Laxness, Vintage International, 2005

These three books have converged on my consciousness this winter; I've referred to Jar City, (Original Icelandic title: Mýrin) several times before, but never given the book a proper review (as if I've ever given a "proper" review!) I had received it for Christmas (to replace a lost copy) from a blog-pal, and I recently got a glowing recommendation about it from another blog-pal. In the four years since my first reading of the book, I’ve read read four other Inspector Erlendur mysteries and was eager to revisit “the scene of the crime.” I’ve spent some time (not nearly enough!) prowling the streets of Reykjavík, including a stay in the Nordurmýri area (the foreground of the area pictured above) where the murder takes place. Arnaldur’s series seems authentic, indeed, the atmosphere of the settings and the psychology of Erlendur are more important than an actual crime. The plot-wrinkle in this book concerns genetic profiling, with references to a fictional “Genetics Research Centre.”

Promising Genomics is a non-fiction book about deCODE Genetics, a start-up company which raised millions on the promise of using the genetic data-base of the Icelandic population to decode inherited illnesses; the results could create new therapies and treatments. I was made aware of this book by yet another blog-pal and I was pleasantly surprised to find it an in-depth treatment of the actual institution which Arnaldur used so effectively in fiction. Mike Fortun does a good job explaining the irrational exuberance displayed by venture capitalists before, during and after the "internet bust" of 2002, when millions of dollars were raised and lost by deCODE on "promises" of scientific breakthroughs. The subject can be overwhelming at times, but Fortun cleverly models himself as a participant/observer, acknowledging and assuming the persona of “Embi”, a character from the Halldór Laxness novel Under the Glacier. The promoters of deCODE are portrayed as playing a con-game, but one in which there is just (barely) enough potential to keep it going. The book was published in 2008, so fallout from the failure of the Icelandic banking system was not covered.

Halldór Laxness’ great novel of ideas, Under the Glacier (Icelandic title: Kristnihald undir Jökli) seems (to me, at least) be getting better and better, the more I read it, and read of it. This book (published in 1968) is an examination of the modern dilemma, in all of its messy glory. Religion, technology, sex, morality and just plain everyday existence is hashed over in a uniquely Icelandic stew (Plokkfiskur?) Fortun’s book uses Glacier as a template, as well as references from Halldor’s other social satire The Atom Station. Glacier is a hard book to dive into—many of a Western reader’s cultural landmarks have gone missing or are deconstructed with a ‘ironic fatalism’, for the lack of a better word. There are implied promises in Glacier as well: the promise that Embi's report will have meaning and that Úa's anima can save Embi. Like deCODE, the promise is there, but never quite fulfilled.

There is always a place, a place beyond the “focus” where converging lines diverge again. I appear to be at that place now with the overlapping of three such diverse books. Still, I’ve found that Erlendur’s search for the meaning of a murder, Fortun’s search for meaning in a business model, as well as Embi’s search for the meaning of life itself, share similarities. When overlapped on my mental map of Icelandic culture patterns emerge, still beyond my understanding, but tantalizingly close.

Rose, Niranjana, and Mary: thanks again for the inspiration!

More on Halldor Laxness at Laxness in Translation

Summer Reading - II

Operation Napoleon
A Thriller
By Arnaldur Indriðason, Minotaur, 2010
Translated by Victoria Cribb

One way to beat the heat is to spend time being engrossed in chilly Icelandic crime fiction. Although this book isn't part of Arnaldur Indriðason's immensely successful Inspector Erlendur series (Erlendur does make an uncredited "cameo" appearance), it is a one-off mystery/thriller with a plot centered around a German plane which had crashed on an Icelandic glacier during the last days of World War II. Most of the action takes place in the year 2000 as the United States military is engaged in a clandestine recovery operation. The plane holds a terrible secret which still has the power to disrupt international relations. Kristín, a lawyer for the Icelandic Foreign Ministry, unwittingly becomes entangled with with this affair setting off a wild sequence of events to uncover the mystery.

This novel came out in Iceland in 1999; it was only recently translated. It is much less introspective than Arnaldur's other titles (it would make a dandy action flick), but it still retains a strong sense of setting and a few quirky Icelandic idioms. The plot is complex but well handled. The chain of events, while a bit far-fetched, never becomes ridiculous. Because it was written before the US closed its base at Keflavík in 2006, its sub-theme about the US military presence in Iceland adds an interesting historical perspective to the book. The Americans in it are, for the most part, villains and nasty ones at that. Exciting, fast-paced, not too challenging (I read it in one sitting) Operation Napoleon I found it to be perfect summer reading, especially compared to:


Available Dark
A Crime Novel
By Elizabeth Hand
Minotaur, 2012

This turgid mess of drug, death-metal music and Icelandic references masquerading as a book comes across as a lightweight parody of the Stieg Larsson thrillers. Told from the point of view of a 40-something female photographer and drug addict, it comes across as a quickie made in order to cash in on the Nordic crime craze. Gives a new meaning to the phrase "speed-read."

Yuck.

Mysteries of the North Country

Hypothermia

An Inspector Erlendur Mystery
By Arnaldur Indriðason
Minotaur Books, 2010

I spent last week not in the North Atlantic, as my posts would appear to indicate, but rather halfway up northern Minnesota's Gunflint Trail, in a cabin a stone's throw away from the icy cold waters of Little Ollie Lake. The days were gorgeous for this time of year—unseasonably warm and generally sunny. The evenings did cool off enough to allow the building of a cozy fire in the stove. The nights have already gotten longer, making a perfect setting for this chilly Icelandic murder-mystery.

So I read this one—aloud—to the Weaver while she knitted. Reading the place-names of dozens of Icelandic locales really tested my concentration, and I found that I actually could suss out most of them, in my fashion, after awhile I had even started to unconsciously trill my "r's"!

Arnaldur Indriðason's latest novel (latest novel to be translated into English, that is) continues with the existential struggles of Inspector Erlendur as he tries to deal with his inner demons while struggling with some decades-old missing-person cases as well as a recent suicide. The twist in this book is the introduction of a theme of supernatural events: seances, visitations, and dreams. Erlendur steadfastly refuses to believe in any of it, but is also aware that something is going on; more than one coincidence usually means it isn't a coincidence at all. This a talky book, with lots of circular conversations, often repeated with several different people. The mystery isn't too hard to figure out, the story's strength lies more in watching Erlendur come to an understanding of the chain of events and how the suicide case spurs new insight into the older case. Erlendur is, as usual, haunted by the childhood death of his brother, a death he feels responsible for, and a feeling which was shared by the suicide victim. He is also haunted by his failed marriage and his dealings with his ex-wife and children. There are a lot of dysfunctional family dynamics going on here—Indriðason incorporates them brilliantly in the plot, giving this mystery a definite sense of depth.

A note on the translation: Bernard Scudder, his original translator, passed away a few years ago, being replaced by Victoria Cribb. The dialog seems less fluid; I think Scudder may have had a better touch for this kind of writing. In addition, the book was riddled with typos! They may have rushed the production a bit, I can't recall reading a book that had been so poorly proofread! You might want to opt for the UK softcover edition, hopefully these mistakes have been corrected in them.

Ichiro, Rem and Arnaldur

Sunday found us in center of the city for some sightseeing and a Seattle Mariners baseball game. We parked near Pioneer square and visited a "Gold Rush" museum where I spotted this pair of glorious boots from the "Gay Nineties" (more food for thought for my trans-gender studies.) We went on to the game where we watched Ichiro Suzuki, who had just signed a $90 million contract the day before- which works out to over $100,000 per game over the next 5 years. One fellow who made considerably less per game at least still retained some poetic aspirations:


After the game we stopped briefly at the new Seattle Public Library, a Rem Koolhaus design, which was full of vertigous surprises:




Spending the evening in our rooms at the B&B, I managed to finish my summer novel Silence of the Grave (Grafarþögn), a detective mystery by the Icelandic author Arnaldur Indriðason, to whom I was introduced by blogger Kristín while in Iceland last fall. Of particular interest to me was the plot element involving the U.S. occupation of Iceland during and just after World War II. This intriguing bit of history has shown up in my reading before, with mentions of its aftermath even showing up in blogs (the U.S. military presence in Iceland ended just last year!)

Arctic Chill

A Thriller. By Arnaldur Indriðason, Minotaur Books, New York, 2009

This latest* installment in the Inspector Erlendur series is another bleak visit to the world of Icelandic murder and intrigue. One problem in this continuing series is that there is always a chapter or two devoted to exposition, but once things get rolling the action picks up considerably. These stories always have a sub-context concerning Icelandic society and conflicts caused by change. This time the questions of immigration and prejudice are at the forefront of the narrative, with a nasty murder of a Icelandic-Thai child sending Erlendur off on a search for the murderer and, as is always the case, his own demons.

Fans of the series should enjoy this book thoroughly, newcomers might want to start with Jar City AKA Tainted Blood (Mýrin, in Icelandic.) There is just enough continuity in these stories to warrant reading them in order.

*The latest book in the US market. We are about 3 years behind the Icelandic publication, and a couple of years behind the UK, perhaps because Arnaldur's long-time translator, Bernard Scudder, died recently.

Strange Shores

An Inspector Erlendur Mystery
by Arnaldur Indriðason

Fortunately, I received my copy of this, the last book in the series, only a few hours before leaving our my recent trip.  I read it in one sitting while cozily ensconced in an antique bed in my room at the Calumet Inn in Pipestone, Minnesota. In a way it was fitting, for the hotel is said to be haunted, Arnaldur’s book is also filled with ghosts from the past. The previous two books in the series centered around his colleagues in Reykjavík while Erlendur was on leave, revisiting his childhood haunts in the East Fjörds. This book tells the story of his absence.  While still a child, Erlendur had been caught in a snowstorm with his younger brother and father. The younger brother was lost in the storm and never found.

It so happens that other people had also turned up missing in another, earlier, storm in the area—a group of British soldiers and a local woman. The soldiers were ultimately all accounted for (some died) but the woman's body never turned up. Erlendur starts asking questions out of curiosity, perhaps spurred on by the similarity with his brother’s disappearance, but soon finds himself reliving the event through the memories of aged pensioners. This is not a book for fans of action. Most of it is in the form of dialogs, many of those who Erlendur interacts with are in nursing homes. The book has an exceptionally dreary mood: it is overcast, cold, damp and dark, filled with lives of regret and suspicion.

The book has two endings: the ending of the story and the ending of the series. The story’s end is melancholy. The series end is fitting and, in a strange way, spiritual and uplifting. I wouldn’t recommend reading this entry first; the reader should have at least a few others read in order for this volume to make its maximum impact. My other reviews of the series are here.

Summer Reading, Continued...

Outrage

A novel by Arnaldur Indriðason
Random House, Canada, 2011
Originally published in Icelandic as Myrká, 2008
Translated by Anna Yates
281 pp.

The latest detective novel by Iceland's most successful living author is the ninth Inspector Erlendur book and the seventh to be translated into English, and although it is part of the series, it really isn't an Erlendur book at all. Throughout the story, Erlendur is off in the trackless Eastfjords; the main character becomes Erlendur's co-worker Elínborg, a middle-aged detective and mother of three who also writes cookbooks as a sideline. A good deal Elínborg's domestic life comes through in the novel. Some critics have faulted the book for this, however I think that it gives a proper grounding to the story; I can never get enough of Icelandic culture in any of these Icelandic mysteries- the culture is part of the mystery. It may well be that I have been putting myself into the narrative a little too closely but it's easy to do when there is so much in the story with which I can identify.

The twist this time is that the murder victim is actually a perpetrator, until Elínborg realizes this the investigation goes nowhere. Arnaldur may have turned to a different investigator in order to breathe new life into the series, his writing seems a touch formulaic, although the translation may have had a part in that. It isn't a bad book by any means, but the series may have reached a peak in the previous book, Hypothermia. I haven't seen this title in a US edition yet, perhaps Minotaur, the US publisher, has passed on it.

Voices

The third Inspector Erlendur book, Voices, by Arnaldur Indriðason, is billed as a thriller, but is really a subtle, layered psychological novel. This is the third in a series (the other English titles: Jar City, Silence of the Grave) of Icelandic mysteries, Erlendur is called to investigate a murder in a posh Reykjavík hotel, he decides to stay there for the investigation, not wanting to go home to his "empty hole" of an apartment during the Christmas season. By restricting his main character to one location, Arnauldur forces us to go inward with Erlendur, as he confronts his own past, as he explores the motivations of the murder, and reveals the background of the victim.

Arnaldur Indriðason is getting better with each book in the series, this book lacks the broader Icelandic settings of the others, but probes the Inspector's internal landscape deeper. This is a great series, and I am looking forward to many more.

Another Arnaldur

The Shadow District
A Thriller
By Arnaldur Indriðason
Translated by Victoria Cribb
Minotaur Books, 2017

Indriðason’s back with this stylish “thriller” set in both past and current Iceland. The death of an old pensioner in modern Reykjavík re-ignites interest in a pair of old murder cases from the forties. Konrad, a retired police detective who is still consulted by the overworked police investigator Marta, who gives him some enigmatic clues about the dead man, starting the action. In a parallel narrative set in 1944, Flóvent, a Rekjavík detective, and Thorson, a Canadian military policeman, try to come to grips with the body of a murdered woman found behind the National Theatre building. Indriðason does a good job of intertwining the stories, each iteration of the story reveals more details yet somehow remains opaque until the very end.

This is evidently the start of a new series, there is no “Inspector Erlendur” in this book. The fact that there are four detectives (in two different eras) dilutes its dramatic center. Indriðason is trying to take his writing in a different direction, although many of the tropes are similar to the Erlendur books. Anyone familiar with Rekjavík will get a kick out of seeing familiar neighborhoods come to life on the page. The translation is good, one of the better efforts by Victoria Cribb.

Mondays in Iceland - #58

Into Oblivion

An Icelandic Thriller
By Arnaldur Indriðason
Minotaur Books

This is the eleventh in the Inspector Erlendur series, although it would be the second in a chronological order.

Taking place in the late-seventies, Erlendur has been recently promoted to Inspector and works with his mentor, the gender-unspecified "Marion" to investigate a battered corpse that has turned up in the waste pool (which would later become the Blue Lagoon) from the geothermal plant on the Midnesheidi moor. An old missing-persons case from the early 1950s also captures Erlendur's attention.

The sub-theme behind both of these incidents is the US military base in Keflavík and how it distorted the values of the Icelandic citizens who dealt with it. There is a fair amount of history of a temporary housing project built upon old US facilities, a history which I found to be very interesting. Camp Knox, featured in the book, was where the Vesturbæjarlaug pool was later built and was also a subject of the excellent film Devil's Island.

The formula of this series is beginning to ossify, that's not necessarily a bad thing, but it does tend to make all the books blur together after a while. Still, I found it to be  worthwhile and it is a must for those who like their mysteries seasoned with an Icelandic flavor.

Bad Girls and Wild Women

   

Blame it all on the full moon.

This weekend was spent wallowing in pop culture, with a focus on the darker side of femininity. Two films, two books, with some unusual parallels and some striking contrasts between them.

First up: Black Snake Moan. This 2007 film is a morality play of sorts, with Christina Ricci and Samuel L. Jackson both seeking some sort of redemption. Set in the modern south, it would be a mistake to watch this as a "realistic" drama. Almost every scene is charged with symbolism and layered with centuries of meaning. Ricci's character, Rae, is a sexual addict with a bad family history. Jackson's Lazarus is a blues man turned farmer whose wife has just left him for his brother. They meet through fate and the rest of the film has them struggling with each other and the voids in their lives. Despite having Ricci's character clad only in underwear and a 40 pound chain for the middle third of the movie, this is a serious examination of race, gender and relational abuse. It ends with some hope of redemption for its characters, but no promises. The whole cast (even Justin Timberlake!) is excellent. The DVD has a feature about the making of the movie which really adds a lot to understanding some of the themes. A big surprise for me and well worth renting.

Next was In This Our Life, a 1942 melodrama starring Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland. Set in Richmond Virginia, it was based on the Pulitzer-prize winning novel by Ellen Glasgow and was directed by John Huston. Davis' character Stanley Timberlake (how about that coincidence?) steals her sister Roy's fiance in her frenzied pursuit of attention. The implied incest with her rich uncle suggests the cause of the sexual hysteria present in Stanley's behavior. There is also a racial theme, quite progressive for its era, with a grim, moralistic outcome. This movie is quite "stagey", but Davis really tears into her role.

Turning from the screen to the page, I was thrilled to discover that Lise Erdrich (Louise Erdrich's sister) is also an exciting author in her own right. Night Train is a collection of 31 short (some very short) pieces of "flash fiction" full of wild imagery and uncensored expression. There is a strong undercurrent of American Indian experience. Perhaps best taken in small doses. Were this a blog I'd definitely link to it. Strong stuff, a real trip.

Finally, Last Rituals is a mystery novel by the Icelandic author and civil engineer Yrsa Sigurdardóttir. In it, Þora Gudmunsdóttir, a struggling lawyer and single mother in Reykjavík, is asked to assist a wealthy German family investigate the bizarre, ritualistic murder of their son. This book was a bit of a let-down for me, the writing, while competent, was a bit mundane, thin on psychology; the story's Icelandic backdrops were not very atmospheric. As a mystery there were a few too many quirky plot details resulting in a bit of a messy, improbable ending. It's worth a look- I thought it better than most mysteries I've read lately- but my perception may have been tainted by Arnaldur Indriðasson's superior Inspector Erlendur series.

An Icelandic Mystery

My Soul To Take
A Novel of Iceland
by Yrsa Sigurðardóttir

Snæfellsness, Iceland, 2004

Murder mystery novels are a curious form of escapism. They have the power to transport one far from daily cares into a world wherein the reader can identify not only with the protagonist's struggle and victory, but also with the killer's depravity and downfall. The best of both worlds!

In this book, Yrsa's second, we revisit Thóra Gudmundsdóttir, a very clever lawyer who has a knack for getting involved with murders, this time in an isolated area of Snæfellsness. In farmland located between Snæfellsjökull and the sea a new-age hotel has been built upon the foundation of an old farmhouse and is troubled by bad "auras" and the haunting cries of restless spirits. Thóra is called by the owner to get an opinion on resolving these issues with the former owners of the property.

There has been a lot of activity in the Scandinavian crime-fiction lately, I've reviewed no less than five Arnaldur Indriðason titles, and have also covered Yrsa's first book. This one is considerably better, although not really in the bleak Nordic mystery vein. It is more of a traditional, plot-driven mystery, well done and captivating (I read it in one sitting) but not nearly so psychological or atmospheric as I would have liked. Part of the problem may have been me- I've spent some time in the area where the action occurs, and the memory of those places filled my imagination rather than Yrsa's prose.

Thóra is an appealing protagonist; because she is a lawyer rather than a detective she has more freedom in her actions. Interactions with her family, an ex and a lover all help to enrich her characterization. As in Yrsa's first book, there are numerous plot twists with mumerous characters (you might want to write a relationship diagram) with some real sadness in the multi-path story line stretching back over sixty years. There are plenty of suspects and some nice twists which help pave over rough sections in the plot. I didn't think I'd read Yrsa again, but this book was a pleasant surprise.

TOMORROW: Another mystery novel set in Snæfellsness.

Reykjavík Nights

An Inspector Erlendur Mystery
By Arnaldur Indriðason
Minotaur Books, US edition 2015

   Hooray! Erlendur is back, this time in sort of a prequel to the other books in the series. Set in 1976, Erlendur is a young traffic officer who works the night shift in Reykjavík. To the usual mix of accidents, drunks and domestics is added the the case of two missing women and the apparent death by drowning of an alcoholic who Erlendur had gotten to know. As is usually the case in this series, apparently unrelated events have hidden connections. Erlendur’s stubbornness leads him through the city in a quest to find the answers to his questions, questions the police had given up on.

   If you are familiar with Reykjavík be sure to have a map of the city handy when reading, Indriðason provides street names to all the locations. The book features the city’s new building projects, giving a sense of the era between its World War II-era past and its modern incarnation. I found it fascinating, those readers without a special interest in the city may find it less so. Indriðason is exploring some aspects of his own coming-of-age in this book, with numerous seventies cultural references.

Icelandic Cinema and Me

There have been a number of notable films with strong connections to Iceland in the last few years.
The IMDb lists 302 titles in its Iceland section. I'll be giving a short impression of the ones I've seen, (using English titles) seeing any one of them is definitely the next best thing to being there...

101 Reykjavík, 2000, probably the most well known release of the last ten years, an unflinching look at the wild side of "101"- the central district of Reykjavík. I had a discussion about this film with a native in the Laugardalslaug pool, he was not at all pleased with its depiction of the city.

Beowulf and Grendel, 2005, Not the Angelia Jolie film, but the same story, told pretty well on a striking Icelandic location.

Cold Fever, 1995, Japanese-Icelandic production, very good, quirky, touching at times. Lots of countryside.

Screaming Masterpiece, 2005, The Icelandic music scene, wildly uneven, a must for music fans.

Dís, 2004, Coming of age story written by a woman who was a night clerk at Hotel Borg (Shen was working the night desk the time I stayed there), not the greatest film, but lots of Reykjavik locales, with a cameo from Vigdís Finnbogadóttir and soundtrack by Jóhann Jóhannsson.

Heima, 2007, Sigur Rós concert film, and much, much more. #1 rated documentary at IMDb.

The Juniper Tree, Brothers Grimm-type story concerning witchcraft set amidst Icelandic scenery. Björk's film debut. A bit thin on drama but very good atmosphere.

Cold Light, 2004, a brooding, dark film about a man haunted by a childhood trauma. Extremely well done, not for everyone. Good views of modern life in Reykjavík.

The Seagull's Laughter 2001, great film about an extended family of women whose worthless men meet their demise in various "accidents." Told from the point of view of a girl on the verge of adolescence. A must see.

Jar City, 2006, an Inspector Arnaldur mystery. Taut mystery with good cast, very dark, excellent location shots.

Noi the Albino, 2003, a peculiar young man in an isolated town on the northern coast of Iceland. Very odd, even by Icelandic standards, well worth viewing if you enjoy a Twilight-Zone type story.

There are obviously many more, some titles I've left off because they were not directly concerned with Iceland (notably Niceland, 2004, A Little Trip to Heaven, 2005, Dancer in the Dark, 2001) and there are some I've been wanting to see but haven't yet had the chance (The Sea, Angels of the Universe) to say nothing of the Halldór Laxness books that have been filmed (Salka Valka, 1954, and Atom Station, 1984.) Most of those are in Icelandic only, some aren't available in compatible formats.

I found Noi at my local Hollywood. Netflix should have most of the others...

UPDATE! Check out Rose's reviews of selected Icelandic films!

My Weekend With Baltasar

                          "No! No more cruddy digital projection!"

I'm not really as upset as the fellow in the picture seems to be. Actually, I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with him tonight. we've met before, via a mutual acquaintance: Baltasar Kormákur, the Icelandic director of such films as 101 Reykjavík, Hafið, A Little Trip to Heaven, Devil's Island, and a film that I'm going to see again tonight, Jar City, based on the book Mýrin by the noted crime writer Arnaldur Indriðason. I've seen 101 and a couple of Kormákur's stage productions. Furthermore, I was almost run over by him the last time I was in Rekjavík as I was leaving the National Theatre's box office!

One thing Baltasar does well is create stunning images, both on stage and in movies; the first time saw Mýrin, without subtitles, I was left with quite an impressionistic view of modern Icelandic forensics. Tonight's viewing (after having read the book) should be a little more coherent, but just as rewarding. He just won a "best picture" award for Jar City at the Prague Film Festival. It's worth a look, it will also play Monday night in Minneapolis, you might be able to catch it at other festivals this spring as well.

UPDATE: Just got back from the festival showing, the movie is as good (or better) than I remembered it (yay!), but it had been transferred to digital (boo, hiss!) with a BIG degradation of image quality. The theater was packed, the film received a good response, with a lot of Icelandic-oriented discussions going on in the lobby both before and after the showing. One viewer at a time, Rose.

If this is the only "print" in the country, it might be better to wait for the DVD or pay-for-view. Some kind of "truth in advertising" law must have been broken here, film is film and digital is digital. High quality digital is possible, but this wasn't it.

Mount TBR 2010

As promised, here is a brief rundown on my new books (with another look at my ever-expanding Halldór Laxness collection!), bottom row, left to right:

The Encyclopedia of Witchcraft and Demonology, by Rossell Hope Robbins, Crown, 1959. Pretty tedious reading, but full of cool vintage woodcuts.

Stories from The New Yorker, 1950 - 1960, various, Simon and Schuster, 1960. All the big hitters of short fiction in the '50s. Really exceptional.

Buffalo for the Broken Heart, by Dan O'Brien. Random House, 2002. Received as part of a combo gift with 10 pounds of frozen bison. Heartache, buffalo and redemption on a South Dakota ranch.

Icelander, by Dustin Long. Grove/McSweeney's, 2006. Post modern mystery, not about Iceland at all.

Arctic Chill by Arnaldur Indriðason. Minotaur, 2009. I'll be writing a review when I've finished this.

Swedish Folktales & Legends. See last Tuesday's FITK.

The Chain Letter of the Soul, The Heart Can Be Filled Anywhere On Earth,
The Music of Failure All by Bill Holm. I've been reading Bill a lot lately, These three books span the last thirty years. I may be writing an overview of his essays sometime in the future. The title essay of Music is about as close to perfection as Bill ever got in his writing.

Björk by Nicola Dibben, Indiana University Press, 2009. A scholarly treatment of Björk, her career and her music. Somewhat pedantic, but its section analyzing her music gives a greater understanding of her unique approach to composition.

TOP ROW: 14 Halldór Laxness titles and counting...