This is a great step up from a mystery serving just as entertainment. Though some might quibble over whether Nesbo should be shelved with “literature”, I felt like I was treated to a serious tour of complex social issues. As pointed out so well by Harry Roolaart here on Goodreads, the new genre of Nordic Noir can often tagged as “natural realism” with its coverage of the failing side of the progressive dream of these counties to become an egalitarian paradise . Here the topics include the problems of drug addiction and prostitution and the more hidden crimes among certain leading members of the society, in this case the vaunted Salvation Army. As usual with crime fiction, we become invested with the mission of the detective to serve as a proxy physician to address the ills of society. In this case, our hero Harry Hole has to deal with whether he is willing to assume the role of “redeemer”, which by one definition is “a person who brings goodness, honor, etc., to something again.”
The book starts with the rape of a 14-year old girl at a Salvation Army summer camp. Not grossly wrought, just a mysterious background to the events in the story 12 years later. We are put into the mind of an assassin who executes a member of the Salvation Army on a public street in Oslo. We are soon given the knowledge that he is known as “The Little Redeemer” for his role as a boy soldier who blew up Serbian/Yugoslavian tanks in the siege of Vukovar in Croatia in the 1991 war. Harry Hole is working on the death of a heroin addict when the case comes up, which involves him already familiarizing himself with the wonderful work of the Salvation Army in serving these folks. Much of the novel covers his slow and brilliant efforts to solving both the whodunit, that the reader already knows, and the whydunnit, which is a deep mystery. As it soon becomes clear that the hitman is not done and has another target, the pressures mount, terrible mistakes are made, and the stress and guilt Harry feels leads him to struggle with staying on the wagon with respect to his drinking problem.
The Christian concept of redemption under Protestant schemes is a relatively passive affair of accepting Christ as the son of God who experienced human death to atone for our sins. But in Nesbo’s book the theme of redeemer is of a more active and violent means of achieving divine justice, as if to redeem is a transitive verb. At one point one character poses the question: “If God doesn’t do His job, though, someone has to do it.” The epigram at the start of the book is from Isaiah which speaks of the Messiah in warrior terms: “Who is this that comes from Edom, coming from Bozrah, his garments stained with crimson? Who is this, in glorious apparel, marching in the greatness of his strength? ‘It is I, who announce that right has won the day, it is I,’ says the Lord, ‘for I am Mighty to save.’ “ The Salvation Army is not known for operating in this retributive mode, although I have always been perplexed by the martial metaphor in the hymn “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war …”; I suppose that dates back to their temperance activities in the 19th century. This book is no indictment of the mission of the Salvation Army, which does great humanitarian work in 126 countries (Wikipedia tells me that in the U.S. alone they help over 32 million people a year with a budget over $3 billion). However, the tale does delve into how an upbringing in a Salvation Army family can twist some members’ personalities.
The plot is fascinating enough, but I got more pleasure from Harry’s character development. I am at some disadvantage reading this out of series order, but it is clear that Hole is more isolated than usual due to his role in a violent solution of a case of pervasive police corruption in the prior book. Yet at one point as he is getting close a woman in the Salvation Army community, she gets him to admit that he has always been lonely and a loner. I am still simmering over his self-assessment on that:
“Bjarne Moller, my former boss, says people like me always choose the line of most resistance. It’s in what he calls our ‘accursed nature.’ That’s why we always end up on our own. I don’t know. I like being alone. Perhaps I have grown to like my self-image of being a loner, too. …”
Another character puts her finger on the true challenges Harry faces in negotiating the moral gray zones of the modern world he inhabits:
You’ve discovered that guilt is not as black-and-white as you thought when you decided to become a policeman and redeem humankind from evil. As a rule there’s little evil but a lot of human frailty. Many sad stories you can recognize in yourself. However, as you say, one has to live. So we start lying. To those around us and to ourselves.