Murder and Mayhem in Iceland

Jar City [by] Arnaldur Indriđason

Translated … by Bernard Scudder

New York; Picador [2005]

978-0-312-42638-5; $14.00

This is one of the darkest, most depressing books I have ever read.  The weather is oppressively cold and dark, and the detective, Erlendur Sveinson is a brooding man, a product of this country and its atmosphere.  Yet the story of a cold case of murder has such startling ramifications, it is a shock to the system, and, just as Erlendur is hunted into solving the case, the reader is haunted into following it.  We must understand – the case must proceed to the final conclusion.

The book opens with a dead body lying in the middle of its shabby living room.  It is a man named Holberg, who has been struck on the head by an ashtray and who knocked over his coffee table as he fell.

The upstairs neighbors found him and called it in.  He was not robbed.  In fact, the scene is neat and tidy, except for the overturned table and the blood on the floor.  The only thing out-of-place is the note:  “I am him.”  The only other clue, discovered a few days later, is a photo of a young girl’s grave.  The girl is Audur.

It turns out Holberg was accused of rape in 1963.  There wasn’t enough evidence to convict him, but records show that the woman he raped had a child named Audur, who died of a brain tumor at age 4.  The mother committed suicide.

This gives Erlendur enough information to begin his inquiries, talking to the victim’s sister, the police officer who dealt with the rape, and the doctor who performed the autopsy on Audur.  Another detective discovers that Holberg had a sister, who also died of a tumor.

Erlendur leads his team deep into the past, searching for anyone who might have a reason to kill the old man.  More violent, sordid secrets are revealed:  secrets that have been carefully guarded for a long time.  The detectives find themselves overturning stone after stone to find the anguish and pain beneath them.  The interviews are awkward and uncomfortable, and they encounter much resistance, anger, and shame.  They gradually piece the story together, with a race-against-time ending, bleak, and unexpected.

Parallel with the main story is the story of Erlendur, with his ill health, his divorce, his drug-addicted daughter Eva Lind, who is pregnant and whoring around the darker side of Reykjavik, meeting the same criminals that Erlendur meets in his job – who throw their knowledge of his daughter in his face.  Erlendur proves himself to have great intensity and complexity of character, which often buffaloes him at home, but which he finds quite useful on the job.

Jar City kept me engrossed throughout.  It is a taut, well-written police procedural, with an outstanding detective.  The writing is sparse, but quite visual.  You really believe yourself to be slogging through this story in gloomy Iceland right beside Erlendur.  This book demands to be read.  Highly recommended. ~ lss-r

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This book is from my own collection.

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