Since I wrote my last review of his work, the Icelandic crime novelist Arnaldur Indriðason has achieved a slightly unusual milestone, courtesy of the politics of his homeland. The new Icelandic Prime Minister is one Katrín Jakobsdóttir, who holds an MA degree in the work of the novelist, which may well make Arnaldur the first crime novelist to have been studied academically by a senior politician anywhere in the world.
All of this is a side-note to 2012's Outrage (originally published in 2008 as Myrká), of course, which is itself a somewhat peculiar novel even by Arnaldur's customarily austere standards.
The action begins with a rather enigmatic prologue, in which a man prepares himself for a night on the town. It's clear that the unnamed man is up to something sinister, and by the time he's found himself talking to a young (unnamed) woman, we begin to realise that his aim is the use of a date-rape drug of some description.
But all is not as it might seem, though. As the dead body is found, it emerges that it's the man who has been killed, with no sign of any woman nearby - only a woman's shawl, with a strange smell which Detective Elínborg recognises as tandoori spices. Moreover, we learn rapidly that the man's bloodstream is full of rohypnol, all of which points to something much more complex than first thought.
Under normal circumstances, this would be a case for Detective Erlendur, that gaunt, irascible character familiar from the rest of Arnaldur's novels. Strangely, Erlendur is completely absent from this novel, having travelled to the east of the country in an attempt to reconnect with his roots. The investigation, therefore, is conducted by Elínborg in the main, with Sigurður Óli providing some level of support.
The effect of this is somewhat bizarre to the reader, as Erlendur is as synonymous with Arnaldur's work as Wallander is for Henning Mankell or Hercule Poirot for Agatha Christie. While Mankell wrote a number of non-Wallander novels, and Christie had a small group of "starring detectives" (as well as trying her hand at a Poirot investigation in which Poirot himself stays at home), it is still a jarring realisation that Erlendur is absent and we're really getting the "B-Team" doing the investigation. Talented author though Arnaldur is, Elínborg and Sigurður Óli have never really been fleshed out as three-dimensional characters before, and remain similarly underdeveloped by the end of the this case. We know a bit more of Elínborg's private life, but I'm not convinced I really "know" the character the way I do Erlendur.
Arnaldur's novels almost always involve motives arising from the relatively distant past, and Outrage is no exception. Elínborg moves between the unnamed fishing village where the victim was born, the drug-dealers of Reykjavík and even the suburban town of Akranes in the quest to resolve this murder - and to try and clear up an unsolved disappearance from half a decade earlier.
The victim - Runólfur - gradually emerges as a thoroughly objectionable figure, and it is to Arnaldur's credit that he's able to change the focus of the novel from "justice for the victim" to "justice for other victims", as the logic of investigating Runólfur is all but openly questioned by a number of characters.
As in the best Scandi-Crime, Arnaldur holds up a mirror to his society and isn't at all concerned about showing things warts and all. Prescription drug abuse and a willingness to minimise the impact of sexual assault are both shown as "norms" in Iceland. So, too, is the clash between traditional society - such as Runólfur's mother, who is known in her village for never having been to Reykjavík - and the hyper-modernity of the capital.
On occasion, this leads to some genuinely amusing moments. Elínborg's interviews with an elderly woman who is terrified of electro-magnetic waves and who provides an important clue are sensitively-written but still very funny. The same, in fact, can be said for the way in which the woman's clue is revealed to actually be a clue.
That being said, some portions of the solution appear to have been phoned in, as the saying goes. The final use of the "tandoori shawl" clue feels a bit padded out, as well as being slightly too reliant on coincidence to be plausible. In Arnaldur's defence, though, it's possible to argue that the genuine lack of Indian cuisine in Iceland could produce a situation like the one Elínborg discovers.
In customary fashion, Arnaldur's conclusion leaves as many questions as it provides answers. Having read a number of this series, it's a technique which works very well, as the entire point is that "life goes on", rather than everything having been wrapped up neatly and "closure" provided to everyone involved. It may be slightly disconcerting to readers encountering the Reykjavík CID for the first time, though. These novels are an acquired taste.
Not exactly Arnaldur at the peak of his powers, but a good read nonetheless. I continue to live in hope that the earlier pair of Erlendur novels will see an English translation someday. 4 stars.
[NOTE: In accordance with Icelandic names, all Icelanders here are properly referred to by their first names only]
No comments:
Post a Comment