It was a lovely warm Saturday evening of 9th August 2014 when my mum Krystyna Konecka and me were wandering around the old Hietaniemi Cemetery in Helsinki. Nothing sinister. Just a visit to the grave of an incredible woman Tove Marika Jansson to pay our respects and to leave some flowers.
I could talk for hours about the inspirational and exceptional fine artist and writer who had found international fame and was mostly known for creating the magical Moomin trolls. Instead I would like to invite you to read my earlier post charting our ‘pilgrimage’ to Finland five years ago. It was published on the NordicNoir https://nordicnoirblog.wordpress.com blog:
Ingvi Þór Kormáksson works as a librarian in Reykjavik’s
City Library and is well known as a musician and a songwriter, with eleven
albums to his credit, and more than 160 of his compositions recorded by various
artists, and featuring jazz, bossanova, blues, samba rhythms with occasional
folk music traditions. His passion for literature and music are clearly depicted
in his writing as he includes details, moods and snippets of musical information
that would have been familiar to many Icelanders who had paid special attention
to new styles coming to their country.
In 2009, his short story Hlidarspor / Sidetracked
won the 2009 Gaddakylfa (`Mace’), an award given by the Icelandic Crime Fiction
Association for the year’s best crime fiction story. That was the sixth time
that Mace was awarded. Following year, the story was published in his first
book, collection of fifteen short stories called Raddir ur fjarlaegd / Voices
in the Distance, focusing on tales of the everyday life, often revisiting
I had an opportunity to listen to the author discussing his
writing at the first panel of the international IcelandNoir crime fiction
festival in Reykjavik in 2016, where the writer, translator and festival
co-founder Quentin Bates introduced the Icelandic authors whose books haven’t
been translated into English yet. Ingvi Thor Kormáksson discussed literary
things with Óskar Guðmundsson, Hildur Sif Thorarensen and Kristján Atli Ragnarsson. Since then The Ninth Step by
Ingvi Þór Kormáksson in Larissa Kyzer’s English translation has finally appeared.
It is an interesting dark novel, full of angry undertones, regret but also
understanding and sensitivity, and deep desire to belong.
As a tale of forgiveness and vengeance The Ninth Step
explores the emotional and physical extremes in relation to taking revenge on
tormentors decades later. Hurt and humiliation had profound lasting effect not
only on two boys but in a twisty horrendous way had damaged lives of other
people, too. Conversation of two recovering alcoholics, probably in their
forties, punctuated by musings and memories, allows for setting of social background
and brining flashbacks explaining some of the has been happening.
The unnamed narrator reflects on his life, relatively carefree
childhood in a small fishing village on the western coast of Iceland, in the
shadow and presence of a magnificent glacier. He weaves recollections of reality
of harsh but simple existence in stunning location, the impact of powerful scenery
in the Snæfellsnes Peninsula and contrasting urban rock’n’roll years. The
paths of Egill, the novel’s main character, and of the narrator cross as these two
men had known each other as teens. For some reason Egill must confide in his
old friend, especially as recent events weigh heavily on his heart and consciousness.
As a young man Egill spent his time playing, singing,
drinking and trying to work out where he had belonged in a changing social landscape
of Iceland. He tried his luck while living and playing music in Sweden which he
has later abandoned, leaving his girlfriend and their young son. Jobs in fish
factories in Faroe Islands didn’t bring much satisfaction. Return to Iceland resulted
in a daily struggle just to survive, mostly on a strong cocktail of alcohol and
drugs. His health declining, depression taking hold, and self-contempt
overwhelming. ‘My life reminded me of a manuscript from which whole chapters
have been lost.’ Yet something hidden in the depths of his psyche,
something very traumatic, had forced him to seek professional help and go to
rehab. And then he had found love. But what he wants to describe during an
uncomfortable conversation is the growing suspicion that the tragic accidental death
of his girlfriend, and then further mysterious deaths might be linked though
police doesn’t think so. Pressure builds up as the ostensibly unrelated victims
are connected to him.
His story appears disjointed which is no surprise as he
still reels from the most fresh events, and harbours doubts and suspicions that
might seriously implicate him. The narration moves between time frames and
different persons who got caught up in situations, sometimes unconsciously. This
stylistic method suits the confessional approach of the book.
The narrator states his opinion on misapplication of the
ninth step, an important part of the alcoholics’ journey to recovery: ‘Egill
mastered his courage and tried to atone, to confess, but it backfired. The
twelve steps must be taken with care and you’ve got to weight and evaluate the
circumstances in each instance – whether there’s a good enough reason to embark
upon them even though you might think that you’re prepared to go through that
sort of confessional process’. However, readers know nothing of his own
battle with alcohol, apart early memories of teenage drinking, and again cannot
judge the circumstances and consequences.
Through pulling the strands of experiences told from several perspectives Ingvi Þór Kormáksson’s novel comes to a poignant unexpected finale which leaves the big unanswered question in its wake. Is it possible to atone for an awful act of violence and be forgiven for inexcusable actions? Does it help to understand motives, reasons, personal pain? Can blind following of the process save your own soul and sanity? Read tense The Ninth Step to make up your mind.
Urban Noir panel: Aslak Nore, Ruth Lillegraven, Stefan Ahnhem and Elisabeth Norebäck
#KrimFestivalen in wonderful #Oslo: 65 writers (20 from outside Norway), 50 events between 21st and 23rd March 2019. In attendance were the stalwarts of Scandinavian crime fiction and writers who are on their way to world fame. I won’t list all but here are the names of some of my literary heroes from Norway: Gunnar Staalesen, Torkil Damhaug, Anne Holt, Jørn Lier Horst, Kjell Ola Dahl, Thomas Enger, and Hans Olav Lahlum, and from Sweden: Arne Dahl, Stefan Ahnhem, Camilla Grebe, Camilla Läckberg, Anders de la Motte and Viveca Sten. I feel quite privileged knowing that I have read their books and discovered their distinctive styles of writing, and looking at the world and society through the prism of own unique creativity.
I had a pleasure to attend only a handful of events and it was fun. Hence a snapshot, rather than a full report. The eighth crime fiction festival organised by the publishing house Cappelen Damm was a huge success, attended by crowds of all those who have one thing on their minds. Livestream of all panels ensured that everybody had to chance to see and hear the conversations, never missing a witty remark, a good joke or an insightful comment. Readers and writers mingled together. Very relaxed atmosphere and plenty to talk about; coffee and sale of books in English and Scandinavian languages.
Torkil Damhaug, delighted to be appointed this year’s festival author, gave an eloquent opening speech the three-day extravaganza. He referred to another author’s comments: ‘The crime fiction literature shamelessly exploits what many would say are the man’s worst sides, our hunger for the grotesque, the macabre, for witnessing violence and atrocities, preferably those committed against the weakest and most unprotected among us.’
In Damhaug’s opinion the crime writers are the world’s kindest people: polite, friendly; they never talk badly about colleagues, never boast, never gossip, never envy. They are extremely law-abiding: ‘If you enter the police criminal records, you will not find a single crime writer. Not so much as a speeding. If you see a group of people walking across the street on red light, the one that remains – yes, you’re guessing right – is the crime writer.’
In this spirit of kindness the overjoyed CJ Tudor, the British female Stephen King, was awarded the Golden Bullet for the Best Translated Crime Fiction for the Chalk Man / Krittmannen, translated into Norwegian by Guro Dimmen. The book was sold to 39 countries before it was even published. The Gullkulen 2019 jury stated that Norwegian publishers are quick to capture quality strong novels from many parts of the world, and the winner was certainly in the league of its own.
During two sparkling English-speaking panels the authors talked about creative process and the current affairs affecting their writing choices, concepts, ideas. Thirty minutes allocated for each panel seemed too short and audience wanted more. But without sticking to the programme there would be no opportunity to see and hear all.
Araminta Hall, CJ Tudor and Lisa Jewell discussed writing from a male perspective which often feels right and relevant for a certain story; social and main stream media attitudes to women and #metoo issues which are still present around us and the fact that women are constantly judged, especially by the British press. However, the authors feel there is hope that the world is slowly changing, and the next generation of girls won’t have to go through this.
Inspiration and influences were hot topics for the international group consisting of Yrsa Sigurðardóttir, Lisa Gardner, Joseph Knox and Robert Dugoni. The Icelandic Queen of Crime, the civil engineer Sigurðardóttir considers that plotting a fictional crime is nothing compared to building a power station. Dugoni studied law to get over a fear but wanted to be a storyteller. The American suspense novelist Gardner said that each novel has its own challenges, including deciding on levels of detail in the books, while Knox feels he is currently facing the ‘second book syndrome’ while working on his third book.
Joseph Knox, Robert Dugoni, Lisa Gardner and Yrsa Sigurdardottir
Some of the events have been held in other locations such as bookshops. At Norli krimkafé four countries were represented: UK – CJ Tudor, Iceland – Yrsa Sigurðardóttir, Denmark – Anne Mette Hancock, and Sweden – Mattias Edvardsson. Each author was introduced to the public, and the chats were conducted in English and as well as in Danish / Swedish – Norwegian. What I really love is the ease with which Scandinavians can have conversation in own languages and understand each other.
Anne Mette Hancock
A special treat was arranged for the fans of Jørn Lier Horst’s excellent writing. It was an exclusive premiere of the first episode of the new ten-part TV drama series Wisting, based on his first two books The Hunting Dogs and The Caveman. Sven Nordin of Valkyrien, Blue Eyes and Lilyhammer fame, to name just some, took on the part of the Larvik police inspector William Wisting, in pursuit of an American serial killer. Meanwhile his daughter Line, a young investigative journalist, follows previous case which leads her into the killer’s path. In Norway the series will start on Viaplay and TV3 on 11 April; however, no news yet about a future date to air in the UK. Meanwhile those who are not familiar could (and should) read several novels by Lier Horst, the former Senior Investigating Officer at Vestfold Police district.
I must return to Oslo next year. In a meantime it’s back to the varied, inspirational and gripping books.
I've been happy writing for other online pages and loved collaboration and a sense of shared interests. However, now I feel I would like to gather my previous book reviews, posts about various events and cultural musings in one place. I will reblog some older things with full credit to where they have appeared before - and will keep contributing, as well as adding new content that would fit better here, to spread the Nordic / Scandinavian word of literature, culture and interesting facts.
Connections bring inspiration and joy. Sometimes they happen suddenly. Sometimes they are a result of what has happened already. Occasionally they are so unpredictable that you have to stop, take a deep breath and just enjoy what’s happening.