The dancer

Ylfa og Valdimar #1

by Óskar Guðmundsson

Life was not always a bed of roses.

Tony is a young man who has always been an outsider in life. He grew up with a sick and alcoholic mother who had once been Iceland's leading ballet star. When her dreams of fame in the world of dance are dashed, she tries to pass them on to her son through cruel methods - and dire consequences.

A body is found in Öskjuhlíðin that has clearly been lying there for a long time. Investigating lawyer Valdimar gets the case under review and is joined by Ylfa, who is taking her first steps within the police. It soon becomes clear that a brutal killer is on the loose and that all is not what it seems.

Genres: Audiobook

Audiobook

Published April 7, 2023

Reviews

[Sara Hlín · Rating 4 out of 5]

Frábær! Glæpasaga sögð þar sem morðinginn er sjálfur sögumaðurinn sem er skemmtilegur vinkill. Þú færð innsýn í fortíð dansarans og líðan. Fannst hann kannski ganga fulllangt í lokin, kominn á bragðið og lét ansi marga finna fyrir því. En hún hélt vel og skapaði heim sem ég datt alveg inn í.

[Lizzy Siddal (Lizzy’s Literary Life) · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 rounded to 4

[Kollster · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enn ein neglan frá Óskari Guðmunds :)
Rann í gegnum þessa bók á einu kvöldi enda getur maður ekki hætt. Virkilega flott bók!

[Gunnella Kaaber · Rating 4 out of 5]

hámlestur í óveðri . Ljót en góð

[Kitta Pálsdóttir · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hörku bók. Fór frekar hægt af stað en vann á með vaxandi spennu 🙈🙉🙊📖

[Helga Guðrún Loftsdóttir · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mjög góð bók.

[Sigrún Þorbergsdóttir · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mögnuð bók sem er óvenjuleg að því leyti að maður veit alla bókina hver morðinginn er.

[Örvar Steingrímsson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mjög góð bók, öðruvísi frásögn og skemmtileg uppsett og gengur vel upp.

[Helga Gabriela · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hörku sálfræðitryllir. Kláraði hana á einu kvöldi.

[Sue · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reykjavik, 1982. Tony is a troubled young man, raised by his chaotic, alcoholic mother, who was once a promising ballet dancer, until her career was brought to a premature end by a life-changing accident. Destroyed by the tragic turn in her life, Tony's mother has had one purpose - to forge her son into the dancer she could never be, but her brutal methods and cruelty have left their mark.

When a decomposing body is found on a snowy hillside, the job of solving the murder falls to veteran detective Valdimar, and his new colleague Ylfa. Somehow, the scattered clues in this bizarre case keep leading them back to a ground-breaking new dance production, but what can a disturbed killer possibly have to do with a ballet? Valdimar and Ylfa are determined to find out...

The Dancer is a blend of captivating Nordic noir crime yarn, and disturbing horror story, set in 1982, that is as sharp and breath-taking as a bracing Icelandic winter. Gudmundsson starts very much as he means to go on, with an deeply unsettling opening scene, starkly set against a crisp snowy backdrop, and from that moment on you find yourself unable to look away for a moment.

At its heart, this is an Icelandic murder mystery, with a framework firmly grounded in the grisly exploits of its killer and, rather intriguingly, Gudmundsson makes it easy for you to spot the guilty party from early on in the proceedings. However, the task of hunting down the killer is not quite so easy for Gudmundsson's detectives, wily Valdimar, with his unhealthy addiction to sweet treats, and the rookie Ylfa, who is torn between the demands of her personal and professional lives. 

As Valdimar and Ylfa work their way through the investigation, the police procedural elements weave subtly through the more dominant storyline of the killer. Once their individual threads become enmeshed it becomes obvious that this is much of a 'whydunit' delving into what motivates someone to wander so far from the straight and narrow. This is an unconventional way for a crime novel to unfurl, but it works so darned well, especially when it comes to the way Gudmundsson's killer fills out in shades of grey, despite the increasingly depraved acts they engage in. 

Gudmundsson holds nothing back in this story when it comes to unrelenting violence, and for a book of just over 200 pages there are a lot of gruelling scenes to work through, but these all have a place in leading you to the final belter of a blood-soaked climax that is wreathed in powerful emotions. Themes of childhood trauma, twisted relationships, victimhood, loneliness, betrayal, revenge and absolution resound, and the way Gudmundsson inextricably links them all to the compulsion to dance is striking. Excellent work here, once again, from Quentin Bates too, who is rapidly becoming one of my favourites for maintaining pace and potency in his translations from Icelandic to English. 

This is full-on Icelandic noir that packs a punch, with echoes of Red Dragon by Thomas Harris, and a pinch of Psycho. Valdimar and Ylfa make for an endearing crime solving partnership against the gritty storyline, and deliciously atmospheric backdrop, and I cannot wait to see how this brand new series develops. More please! 

[Karen Cole · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nordic Noir is characterised by its depiction of brutal crimes and examination of the dark underbelly of society but The Dancer, the first in a new series by Óskar Guðmundsson is even darker and this relatively short but cleverly plotted novel is certainly not for the faint hearted. Without giving away any spoilers, there is mention of violence towards animals and while it happens off the page, more sensitive readers should be warned. This isn't torture porn, however, and while undoubtedly an unsettling read, it is also a moving character study of a man's descent into madness. As such, it almost veers into horror territory at times, particularly in the later chapters.
The atmospheric opening paragraph of the prologue soon gives way to something far more disturbing. By the time the unfortunate – and at this point unnamed victim – is mercilessly dispatched, it's already clear that this is a portrait of extreme violence and a damaged mind. The identity of the killer is known to the reader but while his actions become increasingly depraved, Oskar Guðmundsson is still able to elicit sympathy for him throughout the book.
This is a police procedural of sorts, with the experienced Valdimar teamed with rookie Ylfa to investigate the murder of a man who was already believed to have died in an accident. The narrative never becomes bogged down with the intricacies of the case, however and even the quieter chapters frequently seethe with tension. Although the plot is mostly concerned with the titular Dancer, Valdimar and Ylfa are interesting characters and I'm sure their personal lives will continue to be explored as the series progresses. It is Tony who is the most intriguing character and as the storyline reveals more about his troubled life, it's impossible not to become grimly fascinated by him.
Tony has his own flat but spends more time with his invalided mother and although he ostensibly cares for her, it is evident that their relationship is mutually dependent albeit horrifically damaged. It briefly appears as though Tony may find some respite when he joins a group of young dancers and is given a role in their upcoming production. His alcoholic mother was once a promising ballerina herself and has cruelly pushed her son, resulting in him spending years being bullied and ostracised by his peers. It finally looks as though he may have friends and perhaps even be taking steps towards a relationship but the scars of his past run deep.
His already fragile mind is irreparably broken by the terrible combination of his harrowing childhood and the shocking discoveries he makes here. The physical wounds are painfully apparent but it's the psychological trauma which ultimately leads to the unspeakable nightmare which dramatically unfolds. The closing chapters are especially compulsive and although the barbarism is hard to bear witness to, I found it impossible to tear my eyes from the page. Praise should also go to Quentin Bates whose translation captures all the intensity and emotion of this gripping study into paranoia and savagery.
The Dancer isn't an easy read and it would be wrong to describe it as enjoyable. However, it is a bleak, thoughtful and empathetic exploration into betrayal and how an innocent child can ultimately grow into a monster, and as such is an utterly compelling, powerful novel. Óskar Guðmundsson is an author to watch, I look forward to reading his next book.

[Peter Fleming · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting storyline that is direct and linear, that splits into two stands, dancing and investigation with the emphasis on the former. This is far from the regular police procedural.

There is impact from the very beginning, with a strange torture set piece and a dance to the death. Dancing and a sense of the macabre intertwine throughout but the feeling is not gothic but more a touch of overblown camp horror; Vincent Price would have been a great narrator. Perhaps this down to the ballet aspect, ballet dancers are tough, strong, athletic and determined but those tights raise a titter amongst the unenlightened. Tony is driven relentlessly by his mother and we get a sense of the pain and suffering he must go through, in both body and mind, in the name of art. She also makes him dance naked.

The story packed with themes and motivations that manage to tesselate together perfectly like a complex tiled floor pattern, all from simple cause and effect. The mother Gunnhildur is bitter as her hopes of a career as a dancer are dashed, but as we later discover that is not all that is taken from her. This manifests in transference to Tony with her relentless teaching and desire for success vicariously through him. Does she love him? It is hard to say, Tony certainly resents her and having to care for her (she is in a wheelchair). Jón may provide a modicum of stability for Tony, but he is estranged from Gunnhildur, wracked with guilt and haunted by the past. In the end it is the desire for revenge and final atonement that win out.

Considering the length, the amount of characterisation within is impressive. Naturally the police officers have problems Valdimar is approaching retirement and Ylfa is struggling with family life with a boyfriend and baby she doesn’t see enough of. These are sketched in enough for the reader to understand them without unnecessary embellishment. Tony is the key character, with his relationships and interactions with his mother and the dancers he befriends taking up much of the story. He finds making friends difficult, is confused about his own sexuality and struggles with rejection, wearing his shame like an invisibility cloak. It becomes apparent that Tony is anguished, and we see his mental health deteriorate alarmingly as reality and imagination merge.

There is violence, a bit of gore, elements of horror and moments of real insanity which are handled magnificently. One of the crime reader’s ‘golden rules’ is even broken but for once this can perhaps be overlooked due to the shock it brings to a bizarre scene. Entertaining without being overly gratuitous, perhaps not one for the timid, but the rest will read along thinking where did that come from. Fabulously imaginative and written with complete conviction, making for a gripping and all-consuming read. Once again Quentin Bates does an excellent translation job, keeping everything tight and compact.

[Doreen · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 Stars

I’m always on the lookout for Icelandic crime fiction and was happy to discover this author whom I had not read.

Set in 1982 in Reykjavík, the book opens with a dance scene unlike any I’ve ever seen or read about. It certainly sets the tone for the rest of the novel. Gunnhildur was once a promising ballet dancer but an accident left her wheel-chair bound and an alcoholic. From when he was a child, she taught her son Tony to dance and subjected him to years of grueling practice sessions which have left him with damaged feet. By chance, he gets a role on the stage of the National Theatre. After being bullied and ostracized at school, he thinks he might have found friends among his fellow dancers, but he encounters a competitive world whose secrets further damage an already troubled and broken young man.

The book also opens with the discovery of the body of a man who turns out to be Tony’s father. Valdimar, a veteran detective, and Ylfa, a rookie, are paired to investigate. Of course, they are led to Gunnhildur and Tony’s home where they find a woman barely coherent and a young man who has no grief for the passing of his estranged father.

The novel alternates between Tony’s perspective and that of the two investigators. The police procedural elements are secondary because the focus is on Tony’s troubled mind. The book is really a “whydunit” rather than a “whodunit” because the killer’s identity is obvious. It is the exploration of motive that dominates the narrative. Nonetheless, there is a surprise or two.

What is also surprising is that despite the increasingly depraved actions of the killer, it is impossible not to have some sympathy for him. As the depths of his suffering are revealed, it is impossible not to see him as a victim caught in a web of the betrayal and thwarted ambitions of others. He is not an innocent but his desire for revenge is understandable. As one betrayal is piled on another, his descent into madness feels inevitable.

Valdimar and Ylfa make an interesting pair. Brief backstories are given for both: Valdimar has health concerns and Ylfa has marital problems. The two work well together and I hope that this is the first of a series featuring the duo.

My one issue with the book is Tony’s being able to get a part in a ballet already in rehearsals for an upcoming performance. I know that Iceland does not have a large population, but is it really possible for someone to walk in off the street and be given a role in a ballet at the Ƥjóðleikhúsið?

This dark and disturbing book is not for those looking for a cozy mystery. There is brutality and violence. It will appeal to those who are interested in an exploration of the psychological impact of childhood trauma and long-term abuse.

Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/) or substack (https://substack.com/@doreenyakabuski) for over 1,000 reviews.

[David Harris · Rating 4 out of 5]

Óskar Guðmundsson's The Dancer is a police procedural set in Reykjavík in 1982, a departure from present-day Icelandic crime allowing the detectives to be out of touch and unable to email one another (they use faxes instead!)

In many respects it's less a mystery than an exploration of motives and psychology. In a grotesque opening scene, a man is killed. We soon develop a good idea of who carried out the deeply strange crime (and I can't emphasise enough how strange!) but not why, nor how it relates to another death that soon turns up.

The focus turns to a young man, Tony, whose housebound mother is seen in various flashbacks to have been abusive to him. It's not clear whether he's repaying her now, or how Tony's obsession with dancing fits in (I was struck by the way he's able to basically walk into the National Theatre and claim a part in a ballet that's being rehearsed - a nice degree of informality there!) Either way, the relationship between mother and son seems wrong somehow - why is Tony keeping her drugged?

The murders are being investigated by Ylfa, a young detective, and her more experienced boss Valdimar. These two are likeable, down to earth protagonists, but there is less focus on them than on Tony's spiralling problems - while something is made of Ylfa's domestic issues, and Valdimar's health, it felt to me more as though these two were more being set up for future books. That is fine, because Tony is a complex and involving protagonist, a nuanced character who needs space for the reader to get to know him. I won't pretend I found him easy to like, but he does deserve some sympathy - he has a troubled background and, as we are shown, he's a man who feels something of an outsider. The narrative around him isn't always straightforward - I'm choosing my words with care because I don't want to spoil things, I'll just say that from the founding event that drives the narrative, themes of trust, fraud and self-delusion abound.

All in all a satisfying read, and a very dark one. Quentin Bates's translation does credit to the narrative - I think there must have been some tricky aspects to this (such as the dancing terminology, and the quick shifts from one point of view to another, which leave the reader, for a moment, unsure whether the next scene is a continuation or not) but these are all ably addressed and the English text is great to read.

[Raven · Rating 4 out of 5]

Regular readers of my reviews will know that I have a wee bit of a pash for Icelandic crime fiction, so delighted to share another one with you. The Dancer is the second book by Óskar Guðmundsson that I have read and reviewed, and with his wonderful propensity to avoid sugar-coating in any way the darkest of criminal impulses, this book is truly one of the darkest and most sinister I have encountered in some time…

Coming in at around 200 pages, Guðmundsson packs a mighty amount of visceral murder and emotional angst into this relatively slim page count, not helping a reviewer’s ability to avoid some slippery little spoilers along the way, but I’ll try not to let anything slip. The murders are inventive, shocking and strangely enjoyable, and the plot has a good sense of pace, with a steady investigation unfolding at a steady and believable pace.

Cleverly, the central character of Tony is a complete emotional rattlebag, fostered by his inability to make stable emotional connections with others, which puts the reader in a lovely dilemma. Yes, to all intents and purposes he has unassailable murderous impulses, partly due to his terrible upbringing and his mother’s thwarted ambitions, but there is an interesting tension at play here. Because of what is revealed about Tony’s life up until this point of crisis, there is an emotional heft in the narrative, that finds the reader torn between empathy and horror. I like that this gives an added frisson to the reading experience, and makes for a greater sense of engagement with the characters and the book overall.

Still on the theme of characters, the police protagonists of the grizzled older cop Valdimar and younger female detective Ylfa, make for an interesting pairing. The hugely experienced Valdimar is going through the typical crises of the older man, beginning to worry about his longevity and health, and Ylfa is going through a period of marital strain due to her occupation. Oh, and her husband is an eejit. I liked the sparky repartee between them, and the way that both are equally invested in the investigation.

Overall, The Dancer was a cracking little read, bolstered by the excellent translation by Quentin Bates, and revealing itself as an incredibly dark and uncompromising crime read, that plays with reader’s perceptions. Recommended.

[Anne · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Dancer is the second of this author's books that I've read. Back in March 2022 I read and reviewed The Commandments and clearly remember the emotional punch that one dealt.

What I really like about this author is his ability to pack so much into such short books. At just under two hundred pages, this one could be a one-sitting read. However, it's very very dark, it's violent and it's shocking. Maybe take a break half way through, to give your heart a little recovery.

If you prefer your crime to be a little cosy, then this is probably not for you. If, however, you are a fan of the dark and the dangerous contained in a story that has an intriguing lead character and an opening chapter that almost knocks you out, then you are in for a treat!

Gudmundsson takes no prisoners, he doesn't allow his readers a little time to settle in. No, he opens his novel with a scene that really takes some thought. It's so well written, it's almost like a film opening, unfurling bit by bit until the reader sees the whole dramatic episode. And it continues ....

Tony is something of a loner. A skilled carpenter who works alongside his grandfather creating unique pieces of furniture by day. At night he changes. He's also a very talented dancer, tutored by his mother who was herself talented, before the accident that brought her career to the end. This is no ordinary teaching though and Tony's mother fears him every time the music begins. When he stumbles upon a dance company locally who need players for a production, the fear really begins.

Theres's a touch of Hitchcock's 'Psycho' here, but it is darker and more devastating and very dramatic. In the beginning Tony seems flawed but harmless, but as the story expands, the reader realises that those flaws run so deep and when he discovers something relating to his mother's past, his quest for revenge is deadly.

Expertly translated from Icelandic by Quentin Bates, this is another fine example of the crime fiction currently coming out of this small country. There's so much imagination in this story, so much fear and yes, it's violent, and yes it will shock. However, I'm eagerly awaiting the next book from this author. I thought it was excellent.

[Tripfiction · Rating 4 out of 5]

Crime thriller set in Reykjavik



The Dancer is unusual, tense and involving: it’s a crime novel but it’s much more. Tony is a trained ballet dancer, taught by his alcoholic mother, who tragically lost her own brilliant career. Tony was bullied and brutalised when young and he is now physically and emotionally damaged. How is he connected to the death of a former pilot from America? In this plot-driven story, author Óskar Guðmundsson cleverly explores the consequences of Tony’s tormented childhood to the extent that his crusty old detective, Valdimar, is almost peripheral to the plot.

For his part, Valdimar is struggling with his health but he knows just which questions to ask, has all the right contacts and a deep instinctive feel for how to make progress with his investigation. His junior, Ylfa, is an excellent foil with her youthful energy and her own emotional backstory.

The theme of ballet is approached from the perspective of a male dancer, which is a first in my experience. It’s interesting to see how the protagonist, Tony, channels his energy and his emotions into his dancing – and in other ways that are not always for the good.

For me, this book is much more tightly written and engaging than The Commandments, by the same author. The setting is still Iceland and, yes, it snows, but The Dancer could have been set anywhere and still have been a triumph. Unusually, I had a few niggles with the translation – some odd tenses made me stumble when reading – but I’m still seriously indebted to Quentin Bates for bringing Icelandic literature to an English-speaking reader. Congratulations as ever to Corylus for another excellent book.

[Jen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, blimey. This is quite a dark book. And by 'quite', I actually mean 'very'. This is not a book for those who don't really like violence in their books, because there is sufficient in this book to satisfy even the most blood thirsty of readers, and delivered in the most inventive of ways too. I'm not sure quite where this darkness has come from as I met the author at Newcastle Noir the other year and he seemed such a nice chap ...

The Dancer is a short, sharp and sometimes disturbing look into the psyche of the book's protagonist, Tony, a young man who is unsure of his place in the world. Tony currently works for his Grandfather, making bespoke furniture for clients. It seems he is quite good at his craft too, for reasons that become apparent the more of the book we read. He is a bit of a loner, for reasons that will become very clear, throughout the story. However, Tony also has another talent too, one kept hidden from most people. He is a very gifted dancer, and when he meets a group of young performers, his life is about to take a very dramatic turn. He is persuaded to join their group, about to stage a new dance production, an action that is truly going to change his life.

Now I won't lie, the book opens in very gratuitous, and memorable, fashion. It's actually one of those skin crawling, spine tingling moments that seems innocuous enough for the first few paragraphs, lulling you into a false sense of security before hitting you full force with the truth and in a way had even me on edge. That doesn't happen often. I liked it, after a fashion. the significance of that opening scene isn't clear until about halfway through the book, but when you twig it, you'll likely find yourself on edge.

As readers, the identity of the aggressor in this book is not hidden, nor are the reasons for their actions, perhaps the most disturbing part of the book of all. There is a backstory there, which the author carefully explores, avoiding being overly gratuitous, but still managing to make the impacts of certain peoples actions quite clear. As for where it leads ... well there are some very dark scenes to come in this book, and the killer is actually quite sadistic in execution. I don't like spoilers in reviews, but if you really object to violence against animals, this might not be the book for you.

It feels wrong to say I enjoyed this book as it is quite dark, but I appreciated that way in which the author has explored the various themes throughout the novel, and liked the development of the characters. The partnership between the two Detectives worked well, even if their investigation didn't lead to the resolution they may have wanted. The pacing was spot on, the way in which the author maintained the tension, even in the quieter, seemingly happier moments, pitch perfect. There were times it was hard to tell how much was truth and how much the unravelling of a troubled mind - episodically putting me in mind of Patrick Bateman only with less pretension. And the ending - well it fit the story, was perhaps just, but still left me with a kind of sadness.

It's strange to feel sympathy for such a twisted soul and yet that was how I was left at the end of the book. It's a dark, brooding exploration of the psychological impact of abuse that kept me on edge from start to finish. Definitely recommended for lovers of darker fiction.

[Caroline · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Dancer by Óskar Gudmundsson is dark, and deeply disturbing. The violence begins in the first chapter, and is unsettling. The reader knows right from the start who the killer is. What's difficult to decide is, does one loathe him for his crimes or feel some sympathy for him because of the betrayals he has suffered.
The story is set in 1980's Iceland, in a time before mobile phones, emails and Google. Investigations are done the old fashioned way, and post mortem and toxicology reports take longer to reach detectives.
The Dancer was translated into English by Quentin Bates who, once again, has done a sterling job.
I enjoyed this book despite it's disturbing content. If cosy mysteries are your thing, The Dancer is definitely NOT for you.

[Geraldine O'Donnell · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed the writing style which remains very elegant due to skilful translation I suspect. The prose is perfectly lean and every word and phrase matters.

The author certainly knows how to tell a story that engages the reader from the start.

Where I have a problem however, is that the subject matter is just too violent and the detail too graphic for my sensitivities. Yes, I do protest too much I suppose.

To be able to finish the book,I did have to resort to some skim- reading. I know this might not fit the conventional description of a "good read" but it deserves the five stars.

[A J Nel · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very dark and atmospheric Nordic psychological noir set in Reykjavik, where a poor teenage male ballet dancer reaches a psychological break point after years of abuse by his alcoholic mother and a school bully. Very well written, especially as it is written from a first person antagonist perspective.

[Genevieve Paquette · Rating 4 out of 5]

I got this as an audiobook for around five bucks and it was money well spent. A wildly uncomfortable, uneasy, upsetting listen, with good pacing and an antagonist-POV that actually worked. Also, the author somehow succeeded in making a sympathetic villain that was genuinely sympathetic, even pitiful. It was a nice, spare read without unnecessary meandering or florid prose.

[Anna Kristín · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 - Rennur vel. Dálítið hæg í byrjun, en vinnur á. Fannst skemmtilegar tilvísanir í Broadway og Hollywood þó þær væru bara stuttar. Hæfilega löng þar sem annars hefði verið búið að drepa hálfa Reykjavík.

[Jeannie · Rating 4 out of 5]

A hard read, at times gruesome, at times sad, and at times, downright yuk! But I read to the end, so that says something. The premise - the cruelties visited upon individuals by the traumas in a parent's life is both riveting and abhorrent.

[Susan · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really really didn't like this book (but on a long plane ride so had to finish it as there weren't alternatives.). SO much ugliness and violence that dominated every bit of the story. I rarely have read a book with so much gratuitous violence.

[Julia Siren · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book was a bit predictable. It kept me hooked and interested but I didn’t end up having any deep feelings or opinions about it. It is pretty dark and twisted and in that way unique compared to what I have read before.

[Agnes Ósk · Rating 2 out of 5]

Náði mér einhvern vegin ekki alveg

[Brynhildur Stefánsdóttir · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ógeðslega kreepí

[Anna Hardardottir · Rating 4 out of 5]

Góð bók sem hélt manni allan tímann

[Sigrun · Rating 3 out of 5]

Áhugaverð bók en hefði viljað aðeins meiri dýpt. Djúpur skilningur á mannlegu eðli, erfiðum félagslegum aðstæðum og áföllum