Icelandic Noir is now my bag, baby. If you've not seen The Valhalla Murders, set in Reykjavík, or Trapped, set in Siglufjörður, I highly recommend them if you're into a slow burn crime drama. I think my first introduction to the genre was Arnaldur Indriðason, who wrote the Detective Erlendur series, also set in set in Reykjavík, but goes to some hellish places.
Scandi and Icelandic Noir are bleak. Dreary. Pessimistic. Wonderful. Start small. Icelandic makes Scandi looks like a frolic on a sandy beach. If looking to get into the genre, I'd start with, of course, the first of the Millennium Trilogy, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. At least it ends, the final book, on a hopeful note!*
Happy endings are ... let's say, subjective! The killer is not always caught, the detective isn't always on the up and up, the system is not about justice for the victims, and the environment is a major character. My favorite Scandi is Norweigan Jo Nesbo. His Harry Hole books are not for the faint of heart. I say it before, and I'll say it again, his novel, Police, hurt my soul. I had to put it down and walk away for a couple of days.
Of course, you must read Henning Mankell's Wallander series, probably after the Larsson books. One needs to work up to Nesbo. A little of Karin Fossum's Inspector Sejer, maybe some throwback to Maj Sowall and Per Whaloo's Martin Beck, and Miss Smilla's Sense of Snow as a palatte clenser.
Once you've got through those, then Nesbo. Then, take a deep breath and plunge into the atmosphere that is Iceland. Sometimes, the landscape is the best bit. It's really man against the elements just to walk down the road, and it's never done better than when it's set in Iceland.
Fucking Snow, man. Snow is deadly. None of that fluffy-turned-to-dirty shite that we get here. Trapped is an excellent way to see what Snow can do, as the majority of all that snow and snow storm was fucking real and those fuckers filmed through that fucking madness. Stand up and respect the fucking Snow, or it will fuck you up and no one will find your body.
My current obsession is with Ragnar Jonasson's Dark Iceland series, set in Siglufjörður like Trapped. Maybe having seen Trapped makes this series come more alive for me, because there is Snow. I went looking at the town of Siglufjörður, which is what drove me down the k-hole that led to this post.
What? I'm on vacation. You vacate your way and I'll vacate mine.
Anyhoo, Siglufjörður is teeny tiny and located at the northern tip of the northern tip of Snow Hell. I think what piqued my curiosity is the difference there from here, or Trinidad. We get snow here, but not like that. And Trinidad is as opposite as you can get. These books show me a landscape that is so completely foreign to me that I am grateful for being able to read to get to experience other parts of the world.
It's a heady thing to think that there is a place in the world that only gets 2 hours of daylight during some months of the year. Or 2 hours of darkness during other months. A place where the snow can literally blind you. Places where people choose to live and even after generation rooted in the same spot, still ask why do I continue to put up with the hardship. Same reason people don't leave flood regions in the US, or even in Trinidad, I suppose. I don't actually know what that reason is because I got to fuck out of Central as fast I could fucking go once the opportunity presented itself. Maybe that's the reason, opportunity.
But, I digress. I should also get back to my book, aptly titled Snowblind!
*Other Scandi faves are Helene Tursten's Inspector Irene Huss,w Håkan Nesser's Inspector Van Veeteren, Leif G. W. Persson's Evert Bäckström, and Camilla Läckberg's Patrik Hedström and Erica Falck. These are all from Sweden, but I have read from Norway (Nesbo and Fossum), Finland,and Denmark as well. The Swedes are just prolific as fuck, man.
