Tag: crime-fiction

Petrona Award: meet the Judges

On By Ewa ShermanIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Before the announcement of the Petrona Award 2026 Winner, from the shortlist below, on 22nd October, Karen (Euro Crime), the Petrona Award administrator, decided that crime fiction cross-examination was required. Hence the introduction to three judges: Jackie, Sonja and Ewa (me), Karen’s fiendish questions, and our answers.

1. The judging panel is truly international so let’s start with where were you born / live now?

Jackie: Have always lived in the UK.

Sonja: I was born and bred in the Western Cape of South Africa. We live in a Cape Town suburb that offers the best of both worlds: vineyards on one side, and Cape Town CBD just a stone’s throw away. Even though I’ve travelled extensively, South Africa will always be my home and I’m truly lucky to live in one of the most beautiful parts of the world with the friendliest people, lots of culture and the most delicious food!

Ewa: I was born in Poland, lived for nearly thirty years in the UK, and now I’m based in a small town by a non-touristy fjord in Norway.

2. Can you remember the first Scandinavian crime novel you read (in translation) and if so do you remember when that was?

Jackie: Roseanna – Maj Sjöwall / Per Wahlöö. Picked up an old, battered copy of this in a thrift sale when I was a teenager, and then tracked down the rest of the series as quickly as I could! From there my love of Scandinavian crime fiction and fiction was born…

Sonja: Miss Smilla’s Feeling for Snow by Peter Høeg immediately comes to mind. Even though I wasn’t aware of Scandi or Nordic Noir at the time, I knew there was something in the setting, theme, or social commentary of the novel that intrigued me immediately.

Ewa: As a child I read many books by Tove Jansson and Astrid Lindgren translated into Polish. Although they were not crime I felt strong connection to Scandinavian culture and history and I later realised they presented various social topics hidden within children tales. The Redbreast, one of Jo Nesbø’s earlier books, made a huge impression on me. Apart from a gripping narration, it dealt with WWII history and its impact on Norwegian ordinary citizens, as well as Norway’s post-war national trauma tied to the Nazi collaboration. This led me to read more about Nordic / Scandinavian countries in general.

3. What attracts you to Scandinavian crime fiction?

Jackie: I really enjoy the socio-political element of the genre, giving us a window into the Nordic societies, which outwardly seem almost halcyon in some respects, but are actually pervaded by the same societal, political and criminality issues that we recognise from our own. I also like the gender balance that tends to exist where women are not so often portrayed as victims and have more agency. Obviously I love the sense of darkness that usually permeates these books both in plot and characterisation, but also the unexpected glimpses of mordant or absurd wit that some authors exhibit. It’s a smorgasbord of enjoyment!

Sonja: I think it is a combination of reading about countries and cultures far removed from my own, the mystery of crime-solving, and the strong social commentary. The latter feels particularly relevant since I live in a country where people have a strong awareness of social injustices.

Ewa: The mood, atmosphere and environment of the Cold Climate are mesmerising. The settings: distant, mysterious, known from social media and travel logs, inviting or frightening, affect the fictional characters and their actions, and their stories are told in nuanced ways. I am interested in how the stunning yet tough nature and locations shaped human lives and human perceptions of local places and wider world. The writing is often sparse yet emotive. The humour, especially dark or dry, is unexpected and welcoming. All that plus the social and political issues, including the state of Europe and how Scandinavia finds its identity there in recent years, make for truly engaging crime fiction novels.

4. Why do you think it is still so popular in the UK? Is it popular where you live?

Jackie: I think it’s still popular because of the window it gives other Europeans into Nordic life and society. Also because there are so many sub-genres of the crime genre. Where some are incredibly dark, visceral and unsettling, there are those that have cynical private investigators, maverick detectives, a touch of the Golden Age tradition, a sense of the absurd, ones that touch on the countries’ troubled historical past, or conniving families and career criminals. It’s a great mix and something for everyone!

Sonja: There are certainly avid readers of Scandi Noir in South Africa, but people tend to read what they are familiar with. Of course, Deon Meyer remains the most popular author. That being said, alongside recipe books, investigative journalism, and true crime, crime fiction remains the best-selling genre, which is reassuring!

Ewa: In Norway – absolutely! There are many small crime fiction gatherings and festivals around the country throughout the year, often arranged by an author and supported by the publishing houses, local libraries and / or local councils. For example in October readers can come to Kongsberg Krimfestival, or Thomas Engers Krimfestival in Jessheim, and in November to Kristiansand Krimfestival. Oslo has its own Krimfestivalen each March. Norwegians have the longstanding and firmly established tradition of påskekrim or Easter Crime. This is the time to enjoy all types of crime fiction, both on screens and on pages of very popular novels. It goes back to a very successful advertising campaign for Jonathan Jerv’s crime novel. The book, written by two young students Nordahl Grieg and Nils Lie, was launched spectacularly in the country’s biggest newspaper ‘Aftenposten’ on Saturday 24 March 1923, the day before Palm Sunday, with a seemingly real headline at the top of the first page. The words ‘The train to Bergen plundered last night’ were in fact a title, rather than a real news item. The rest is a history, or an incredible interpretation of the fact that reading during holidays can be so enjoyable.

5. Do you have a favourite subgenre of Scandinavian crime fiction and are you willing to say who your favourite authors and translators are?

Jackie: I am a sucker for a grizzled maverick detective, journalist or private eye and I love a bit of dark humour, so no, I don’t really have a favourite sub genre and having the privilege of reading for The Petrona Award every year, it’s always good to keep an open mind!

Sonja: I have a soft spot for police procedurals and a well-written hard-boiled crime novel, particularly one with a good dose of dark humour, will hook me every time. Generally, I am not too fond of cosy mysteries, domestic noir or historical crime.

There are so many great Scandi Noir writers beyond the well-knowns, i.e. Henning Mankell, Jo Nesbo, and Stieg Larsson. Some of my favourites are Malin Persson Giolito, Samuel Bjørk, Max Seeck, Anne Holt, Jussi Adler-Olsen, Karin Smirnoff, and Gunnar Staalesen. I also enjoyed Icelandic writer Hildur Knutsdottir’s horror thriller, The Night Guest, and I look forward to her latest, Dead Weight. One of my all-time favourites is Leif GW Persson’s ‘Story of a Crime’ series and The Dying Detective. Likewise, you can always trust translations by Don Bartlett and Victoria Cribb.

Keep an eye out for authors published by smaller, indie presses such as Orenda Books, Pushkin Press, and Corylus Books. That is where you will find the real gems. Unfortunately, the Scandi Noir market has been flooded since it became more popular, and sadly, not all of them are worthy of the label.

Ewa: I’m not fussed about a subgenre but want a great story that will make me think and reflect, hide behind a sofa, reach for a map, or forget about the world. There are too many favourite authors to list them all here. However, I will say that I have huge admiration for translators who bring these books to life in the English language. Some of them have worked with the same writers over long periods of time and become their English voices. I’m in awe of Neil Smith, Don Bartlett, Ian Giles, Anne Bruce, Kari Dickson, Victoria Cribb, Quentin Bates, Lucy Moffat, David Hackston, Charlotte Barslund. I also always look for connections within and between books. For example, Ørjan Karlsson mentions a character reading Gunnar Staalsen’s novel on a beach in Barcelona. You’ll have to find out which book it is…

6. And finally, where can we find more of your writings?

Jackie: I’m very active on social media as @ravencrime and also have a blog Raven Crime Reads.

Sonja: In the UK, I regularly review for Crime Fiction Lover and occasionally for the European Literature Network. In South Africa, I review for Afrikaans for newspapers and magazines. All my English reviews are available on my blog, West Words Reviews, and on social media under the same handle, e.g. https://www.instagram.com/westwordsreview/

Ewa: I have a blog Nordic Lighthouse and also review various genres for European Literature Network. My earlier reviews are on Crime Review and Euro Crime.

Scars of Silence by Johana Gustawsson

On By Ewa ShermanIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Twenty-three years ago, a young woman was murdered on the Swedish island of Lidingö. The island has kept its silence. Until now.

As autumn deepens into darkness in Lidingö, on the Stockholm archipelago, the island is plunged into chaos: in the space of a week, two teenaged boys are murdered. Their bodies are left deep in the forest, dressed in white tunics and wearing  crowns of candles on their heads, like offerings to Saint Lucia.

Maïa Rehn has fled Paris for Lidingö after a family tragedy. But when the murders shake the island community, the former police commissioner is drawn into the heart of the investigation, joining Commissioner Aleksander Storm to unravel a mystery with a shockingly dark heart and as chilling as the Nordic winter.

As they dig deeper, it becomes clear that a wind of vengeance is blowing through the archipelago, unearthing secrets that are as scandalous as they are inhuman.

But what if the victims weren’t who they seemed? What if those long silenced have finally found a way to strike back? How far would they go to make their tormentors pay? And you – how far would you go?

I admit that Scars of Silence really shook me. The sequel to Johana Gustawsson’s chilling gothic thriller Yule Island is also set in the same location, relatively close to Stockholm, yet far away from capital’s bustle and hustle, and explores various relationships existing within a local community. The story also gives space to the process of grieving, allows it to take its own course – if that is possible at all. These two issues – mourning and connections –  permeate through memories of the past and the urgency and tension of present events, following the police investigation into two murders.

Johana Gustawsson creates unique tales that combine strong emotions, sober look at the society and masterful storytelling. Her eloquent and engaging writing style keeps the reader fully immersed in the world of fictional characters who nonetheless have their own roots in what has happened in reality before, or what could have happen in any community. Superb translation by David Warriner brings the nuances and subtleties of Swedish environment via French language into the English sphere. The flowing strong narration and attention to minute details helps to navigate the unknown and to decipher new emotions, never losing sight of the consequences of earlier crimes.

From the very first pages of Scars of Silence I felt that, both as a writer and as the main protagonist Maïa, the author learns of the new location, new country, habits and norms. Sweden’s attitudes in a nutshell appear as Gustawsson / Maïa discover beauty of the local customs, calm and wonder of unforgiving nature, and rigid, or very slowly changing, outlook at what should be hidden, not spoken about, forgotten.

However, the author and her heroine are two different persons: she does not become her distraught and devastated French detective trying to cope with the death of her daughter, and the absence of her husband Ebbe.

Tragedies cannot be ignored, even after a long passage of time. The silence, or the paralysis of horrendous aftermath, that follows can become overwhelming and extremely painful and takes over every single action. It needs some direction, maybe distraction. Therefore Maïa, in a way, welcomes the opportunity to bury herself in the old files of quickly solved rape and murder of Jenny Dalenius on Saint Lucia’s Day on 13th December 1999.The only suspect Gustav Hellström was Jenny’s ex-boyfriend, a rich young man from a prominent family. He served nearly all his time but had committed suicide just weeks before release from prison. For over twenty years his mother Anna fought to prove his innocence until suddenly, seven days later, she had killed herself in the most shocking way at the local school, while live-streaming it on social media. Sophia Akerman, Anna’s mother and Gustav’s grandmother, asks Maïa to help her find the truth of what has happened and to quiet her own doubts and suspicions. This task bonds them in grief of losing a child. ‘There’s no word in Swedish, or in English for that matter, to describe a parent who’s been widowed – or orphaned – from their child.’ ‘There’s a word for it in Sanskrit: vilomah. It means “against the natural order”.’

Maïa focuses on dealing with Sophie’s request while assisting Commissioner Aleksander ‘Aleks’ Storm with search for the killer(s) of Daniel Brink and Roland Lind, and their professional relationship grows from respect and empathy. They struggle to understand motives for copy-cat like killings, especially as a body of another victim is found in Stockholm: ‘We’ve gone from two teenagers, basically the same age, who went to the same high school, lived in Lidingö and played football at the same club, to an adult surgeon in the city.’

One more thing that Maïa and Aleks have in common is that both of them respect the need for quiet: ’Then, we share a necessary silence. A silence which, if spent in solitude, would be filled with infinite sadness. Together, we can carry it differently.’ These thoughts and words had a huge impact on me, too.

The final revenge isn’t sweet, the despair and sadness are huge, and there are no winners. Additionally, the outsider’s take on the lovely winter traditions that should bring peace and calm to the community unravel tensions and shame. Celebration of light and bravery turns to a brutal memory. However, they ‘clear the air’, for a lack of better expression, and seem necessary for the main characters to deal with and acknowledge own pain, maybe to atone, maybe just to breathe a tiny bit easier.

Krimfestivalen 2025

On By Ewa ShermanIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

The snow is gone, sun is shining and birds are singing and world seems happy and relaxed as we stand in a long queue outside Gyldendal Norsk Forlag AS, one of the largest Norwegian publishing houses. It was founded in 1925 after buying rights to publications from the Danish company of the same name. However, right now nobody thinks of its illustrious history. The aim is to get inside the beautiful building in central Oslo and find a good seat to enjoy crime. International crime fiction in fact as the new Krimfestivalen is just about to begin. Since the free festival was first held in 2012, it has been a huge success, and now it is considered as one of the world’s leading crime festivals. Over three days fifty writers from Norway and abroad will share some of their secrets, writing tips and opinions in three locations; here at Gyldendal and two other publishers: Cappelen Damm and Aschehoug. The last or so decade has been a golden age for NordicNoir crime fiction. The festival organisers are keen to celebrate this phenomenon and keep Nordic crime fiction within the international perspective, and we – the fans – know how intriguing and fascinating various books in this genre are. We don’t seem to get enough of them, and luckily – the authors keep writing.

Lubna Jaffrey, Minister of Culture and Equality, and Ingeborg Volan, the publishing director at Gyldendal Litteratur, welcomed the crowd of readers and writers.

The festival began with the conversation between the journalist Hilde Sandvik and the shining global star Jo Nesbø who discussed various American themes that have influenced both his life and his latest thriller. The English translation by Robert Ferguson is due to be published in August 2025. Minnesota or Wolf Hour, set in the American Midwest in 2016, brings a powerful mix of unexpected twists, dark secrets and personal and political tension. Here’s the blurb: ‘When a small-time crook is shot down in the street, all signs point to a lone wolf, a sniper who has seemingly vanished into thin air. Down-and-out detective Bob Oz is sitting in a dive bar in Minneapolis when he gets a call: there’s been another murder, and they don’t think it will be the last. As the body count grows, Oz suspects that something more sinister is at play. And the closer he gets the more disturbed he becomes. Because the serial killer reminds him of someone: himself’.’

Nesbø was joined on stage by Sweden’s huge star Pascal Engman whose challenging but incredible Femicide / Råttkungen was the Winner of Petrona Award 2023 for the Best Scandinavian Crime Novel of the Year. Discussion in Norwegian and Swedish between masters of the thriller focused on function of the literature which of course includes the crime fiction. Its purpose, apart from entertaining and creating a fantastic reading experience, is the possibility to create some kind of meaning and understanding of the world and what is going on in the current climate, touching on the social, historical and political aspects. Both authors agree that it is also much better to finish a novel with an open ending rather than a happy ending because how would such a ‘happy’ conclusion to a terrifying story work out in practice really?

Gunnar Staalesen, called the Norwegian Raymond Chandler, also considers that writing and reading crime fiction can bring some kind of resolution, some sense of what’s happening around us. Staalesen was celebrating 50 years as a writer earlier in January this year. The short summary of his writing career, and relatively short chat on the stage with Nils Nordberg, another great writer and one of leading experts on crime fiction, don’t really show huge impact Staalesen has made on the readers, critics and other writers. I was lucky to read and review several of his books (We Shall Inherit The Wind, Where Roses Never Die, Wolves in the Dark, Big Sister, Wolves at the Door, Fallen Angels). He made his debut at the age of 22 with his first novel Uskyldstider / Times of Innocence in 1969. Since then, he has published a wide range of novels, plays and children’s books, but he is primarily known as a crime fiction writer. The books about a social worker turned private detective Varg Veum have been published in 23 countries, including France, England, Germany, Italy, Russia and Poland, and several of them have been adapted for cinema and television. The iconic Varg Veum is a truly exceptional complex character. And one of my all-time favourite heroes, too.

I spent several hours at Krimfestivalen, listened to the chats between Sarah Natasha Melbye and the Swedish mentalist and writer Henrik Fexeus, and later with immensely popular Elly Griffiths (UK) and Emelie Schepp (Sweden) about their fascinating and strong female characters: Ruth Galloway, Jana Berzelius and Maia Bohm. The powerful and often flawed fictional heroines are undoubtedly unforgettable. Helene Flood (The Therapist, The Lover), Torkil Damhaug (Medusa, Certain Signs That You Are Dead) and editor Marius Fossøy Mohaugen shared some of the intricacies of how to write a good authentic psychological thriller. The ‘who’ isn’t as important as ‘why’ to make people’s actions and motives believable.

It was getting late when French Noir took over with the French author Bernard Minier and the French resident Aslak Nore in conversation. I enjoyed Night by Bernard Minier and am looking forward to reading Havets kirkegård / The Sea Cemetery by Aslak Nore.

Only one day at the festival. Overwhelmed and tired in the best way possible, I felt that ‘my’ tribe is doing great. I got a new book: Mørkefall by Sven G. Simonsen, and had others signed. I didn’t miss my train home.

One of the exciting moments during the festival is the announcement of the nominees for the Riverton Prize / Golden Revolver 2024, to the author of the best Norwegian crime fiction work in the previous year:

  • Du kan kalle meg Jan / You Can Call Me Jan by Anne Elvedal
  • Fuglekongen / The King of Birds by Eva Fretheim
  • Den ingen ser / The One No One Sees by Terje Bjøranger  
  • Tørt land / The Lake by Jørn Lier Horst
  • Kongen av Os. Kongeriket 2 / Blood Ties. The Kingdom 2 by Jo Nesbø

This year’s prize will be awarded next month.

Your Absence is Darkness by Jón Kalmann Stefánsson

On By Ewa ShermanIn Uncategorized1 Comment

I am very very lucky to have some of my reviews published on the pages of European Literature Network. This particular review is available there as well but I wanted to share it on my blog, too. Here’s the link to Your Absence is Darkness. And I would absolutely recommend that you check other interesting articles written by extraordinary people who contribute #RivetingReviews.

Have you ever seen photographs of rivers and streams meandering through the rugged terrain of Iceland? The way they create their own space, take ownership of obstacles and thrive in the beautiful, unexplored countryside? As I was reading Jón Kalmann Stefánsson’s latest audacious novel Your Absence is Darkness, I was reminded of this Icelandic landscape. I fell under the spell of the storytelling, which meanders through time and locations, taking in life and death, punctuated by raw love of many kinds, and leading the reader to a perfect conclusion. 

The powerful narrative, which is both stoic and emotional in equal parts, moves at a pace dictated by both the weather and the speed at which memories come to the surface. An unnamed man finds himself awake in a church in rural Iceland. He remembers nothing – he has completely lost his bearings – but he knows the presence of a stranger makes him feel uncomfortable. 

This mysterious shape-shifting figure will accompany him on a journey of discovery. First a local woman helps him reunite with his sister. Then, as he listens to her stories about previous generations, he slowly submerges himself in a history that spans centuries, telling tales of the people who have loved, lost, fought, survived and died in the isolated, windswept farms and small villages on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula in western Iceland, whose stunning, unforgiving landscape has been influencing the ordinary lives of its inhabitants for centuries. 

As the narrator begins to question this correlation between the natural environment and the economic situation of the inhabitants of these villages, which have changed very little over the years – ‘Blessed darkness, accursed damp – the history of Iceland?’ – we get to know the fates of the members of one particular family. Eirikur, a musician abandoned as a child by his mother, is running away from his Icelandic past, but suffers from loneliness and cannot connect with his father. A girl, chasing after the memory of one, intense blue-eyed gaze, moves from Reykjavik to the fjords. An uneducated farmer’s wife writes an essay on the earthworm, ‘the blind poet of the soil’ and unwillingly changes the course of two families’ lives. Petur, a pastor, neglects his wife, writes to a dead poet and falls in love with a stranger. An alcoholic father leaves those close to him and follows the starry night sky. We see dramatic events forcing men and women either to abandon their homes or stay firmly put, emigrate to Canada or settle for compromise, moved by love, pride or sense of duty. Just like in Iceland’s ancient sagas, the novel’s characters are bound together in a family history that spans around two hundred years.

Human tragedy links these individual stories, each of which deserves attention and patience from the reader. It seems that these characters cannot escape a brutal, often inexplicable destiny, but even as the natural world around them guides their daily existence, and even their morality, they also crave joy and a sense of belonging. Tenderness appears in the most unexpected places, humour provides some light, while Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard reminds the characters that they are loved: ‘Your memory is light, your absence darkness’.

Philip Roughton’s translation is superb, with the novel’s rhythm and tempo beautifully executed, especially when it comes to the way repetitions of words and phrases add to the overall sense of uncontrollable fate and the tensions between faith and biological fact. Stefánsson’s style – complex, intriguing, nuanced – in this translation flows like those Icelandic rivers.