Arnaldur Indridason – Hypothermia.
Erlendur (Indridason’s Nordic and gloomy detective) is less gloomy in this stage of his life as his daughter and son are both in contact with him and even onto a path of recovery (from drug addiction). Part of the deal with his daughter turns out to be that he, Erlendur, gets in touch with his ex-wife and their mother in an attempt to become ‘civilised’. He knows it won’t work and is proved right.
Meanwhile, he has to solve another murder, a very cold and cold blooded murder, as this is Iceland. The case in fact throws up all
kind of memories for Erlendur, memories of his brother who was lost in the snow, and of how is father and mother, and he himself, tried to cope with grief and the loss and with their respective roles in what happened on that fateful day.
The book is written in the usual Indridason style: sometimes funny, always sharp in its analyses of human relations, as well as being minimalistic . Excellent holiday fare.
Arnaldur Indridason – Voices
In this thriller, the murder victim is Santa, found in the basement cupboard room he occupies in a central Reykjavik hotel.
Santa is in fact the doorman of the posh hotel, but not only is he murdered, he is found with his trousers down. Great embarrassment for the hotel management, who want to keep this under wraps, if at all possible.
This is an earlier Inspector Ernaldur, one written before Hypothermia, and he has not as yet remade contact with his son, although his daughter turns up at all times of the day (or night), whenever she is in need of a bed. The dead man, it turns out was a child
prodigy, with a most wonderful voice, which was lost when his voice broke as a teenager. And with that loss, his childhood was gone, including the secrets that went with it.
Again, this is an excellent thriller, unravelling some of the miseries of childhood as well as the secret history of murderer and victim and their respective relatives.
Another great read for a summer holiday – Indridason goes into much more than the straightforward solving of murders.
I’m sure I read a few others but I’ll get round to mentioning those some other time! Meanwhile, here’s another brilliant view into (Pissouri) memory lane: