I interrupted my Russian reading with Far North, a mystery series by Michael Ridpath that unfolds in Iceland. (My brain had to take a trip from Moscow to Reykjavik and back.) As I mentioned in an earlier post, this time last year I was gearing up for a trip to Iceland, and I’ve been feeling wistful lately. The country made an immense impression on me. There’s something about the landscape that beckons: the quiet, the lava fields, the heavy clouds, the green hills, and, as much as it wreaked havoc on my sleeping pattern, midnight sun. Believe it or not, it is in Iceland that I gained an appreciation for darkness, which is rather ironic, considering I love the sunshine, the ocean, and white sandy beaches.
Anyhow, I felt like returning to the fascinating streets of Reykjavik, so I turned to Michael Ridpath’s aptly titled Fire and Ice series, featuring detective Magnus Jonson. (You might wonder why I didn’t bother to read something by an Icelandic author, but it was purely a case of library availability. Far North was on the shelf, but I still have titles by Yrsa Sigurdardottir and Arnaldur Indridason on my list.)
For whatever reason, reviews on Goodreads are quite critical of Ridpath’s writing. He’s either too predictable or incorporates too much personal life details of the detective into the mystery. On the first point, I would disagree, but on the second, there is perhaps some credence. Despite my forthcoming complaints, I quite enjoyed Far North, which used the financial crisis of 2009 (aka, the kreppa) as an interesting plot device. However, I was a little frustrated by the level of family history provided, and that great big chunks of the novel ultimately had no bearing on the actual crime in question, which is the murder of bankers responsible for the financial collapse of Iceland. Not to mention, if I want to know how that particular mystery unwinds, I will have to keep reading the series.
Frustrations aside, I was captivated enough by the story to keep going, because I was curious to discover who the killer was, someone I guessed correctly approximately 275 pages in. There were many elements of the novel, though, that were surprises, but awkwardly executed (excuse the pun). The major disappointment would have to be the wrap up, as the killer is never really questioned, and the reasoning behind the whole murder plot is never fully articulated.