“We are as braided into this mountain as it is braided into us”
I had been very impressed, albeit with some reservations, by Cecilia Ekbäck’s first novel, Wolf Winter, set in 1717 in what was Swedish Lapland. The author created a mysterious, darkly menacing, isolated settlement in Blackäsen Mountain. Wolf Winter was for the most part, literary and historical fiction, but with crime at its heart. Ekbäck seemed both more interested, and more successful, in exploring interesting themes – specifically the tension between two very different kinds of community Swedish, Christian, ‘modern’ European and the Lapps, whose traditions were different, shamanic, more united as ‘outsiders.’ She also had a major focus on the disparities of power between men and women, and how women of independent outlook might survive in earlier times where opportunities were very restricted. One of her many strengths was a connection to place itself, landscape as a central driver of plot and a central relationship for character.
So I was particularly pleased to see that with her second novel she returned to the powerful, brooding Blackäsan mountain, and even more delighted to see that this was not going to be any kind of sequel – place remains the constant, but almost 150 years have passed. We are recognisably in a more modern, industrial era, but though there have been political changes, the potential conflicts between the Swedish settlers and the now Christianised, still nomadic Lapps, and their not completely eradicated, older, shamanic traditions, still exist. And the role of women has become even more complex. The Author’s note at the back of the book sets the historical background – from the middle of the 1850s there was a growing women’s movement, making demands for economic justice and the right to vote (which didn’t happen till 1921). There is also a very negative view of the Sami people (the Lapps), by the Swedish population
As in Wolf Winter, Ekback’s strengths are much in evidence – setting, complex and believeable individual psychology and group psychology, and events taking place in the lives of individuals in a wider context. Strong characterisation, and a generally hypnotic, absorbing narrative. Character development, unpredictability, and a powerful sense of ancient, inexplicable forces. The sense of time and place are strong.
Unfortunately, as with Wolf Winter, what was heading for sure five star all through fell off target for me in roughly the last 40 pages. At the heart of the story is savage crime, and, set within an isolated, very cut off community, everyone is suspect. Though there is no detective, central characters, 2 outsiders are drawn into trying to solve a continuing, dark, violent crime. And in the closing stages of the novel solving the crime, understanding its gestation and chilling history, as the spotlight turns on person after person and the body count rises, proved far less interesting than the absorption of all that had gone before.
Ekbäck is far more interesting and accomplished a writer of literary fiction, than she is a crime writer, but the selling/marketing of the book is ‘Nordic Noir’. The ratchet up of violence and the solving of the mystery, for this reader, would have benefitted from greater simplicity, rather than complexity.
Nordic Sami People, Lavvu, circa 1900, Wiki Commons
The story is told first person in 4 voices. Magnus Stille, an upright, scientifically minded man, working for the Swedish Board of Mines is on an assignment to investigate Blackäsen for the possibility of mining for iron ore. Foisted onto him at the eleventh hour by his father-in-law, is his disgraced, rebellious, psychologically damaged young sister-in-law, Lovisa. The third voice, third central character is ‘Ester’, whose original, Sami name before being Christianised is Biija. She is an elderly woman, recently widowed. Her tribe have gone to their summer pastures, she remains, mourning. And there is a fourth voice, whose identity reveals itself more slowly.
I don’t believe anything is ‘meant to be’. I don’t believe in destiny in that way.
But should you act or speak, there will be a response. You neglect something and that has consequences too. The universe responds.
And so, wherever we find ourselves – whether we like it or not, whether we join or not; we are a part of the unfolding of events.
I have a couple of ‘not quite convinced’ feelings about the narrative voices. Although absolutely each character is beautifully delineated and clear I was not always hearing 3 distinct voices in the ‘I’ of each narrator, the voice in the head. And (though I came to understand the rationale for this rather more by the end of the book) I was not quite convinced of the propriety of Karl Rosenblad, the State Minister of Justice, and Magnus Stille’s father-in-law, sending his disgraced, and in his eyes, morally depraved daughter Lovisa, away to journey with her brother-in-law. It was certainly something which all those they encountered in Blackäsen, and on the journey there, found extremely odd and ‘not quite right’ Lovisa is a most interesting character, it was just that I found myself musing about received proprieties.
Ekbäck’s first novel was set in winter on Blackäsen mountain, where the darkness was menacing and harsh. Here, it is the light – the eeriness of June, and perpetual daylight
Another night and I can’t sleep. How can anyone, in this perpetual sunshine? Without blinds, the light floods the room, makes my soul itch, and my legs ache. It can’t continue like this. I haven’t slept since I set out on my journey
I do recommend this, and will certainly be very keen to read Ekbäck’s next novel, but hope that she is not marketed, and indeed, that she does not think of herself as a Nordic Noir writer. The genre aspect I think is more of a bind on her writing
I received this as a review copy from Amazon Vine UK. It will be published, UK and Stateside on June 16th
In the Month of the Midnight Sun Amazon UK
In the Month of the Midnight Sun Amazon USA
Lady Fancifull 
Oh, what a shame – I was all hooked in until the savage crime bit!
I guess crime fiction – and perhaps ‘Nordic Noir’ still has selling power. The rather slower unfolding of atmosphere and story was working well for me, but then identifying the perp, which for me was the least interesting strand, galloped away towards the finishing line at a licketty spit!
I didn’t take this because I still haven’t got around to Wolf Winter – I started listening to it on audio, but as so often came to the conculsion that it was one that would work better on paper. I did enjoy the writing though in the bit I listened to, so will get around to these some day! I think there’s a real tendency at the moment for lit-fic to be disguised as crime, and like you I don’t find it necessary and often don’t think it works too well. It also tends to get complaints from both ends – from people like you decrying the body count, and from people attracted by the body count decrying the ‘slowness’ of the descriptive stuff. Still, I’m sure those marketers must know what they’re doing, eh???
That’s a really interesting observation, because as you know I’m more stuck in my lit ficcy corner and less willing to go genre unless its showing lit ficciness, so it interests me to know this is a trend not really delighting any of us – though, perhaps both lit ficcers and crime ficcers are both buying the books on what has been sold to THEM. Canny, cunning, devious marketers!
As someone who likes both pretty much equally, you’d think these crossovers would work for me, but actually I like there to be a fairly clear dividing line in most cases. Unless they’re exceptional, like Fallen Land or, on the other side, Reginald Hill’s later books, I find myself longing for them to be one thing or the other. And a high body count rarely works for me in either genre, really…
There were several reviews of Fallen Land though from disgruntled thriller fans who felt they’d been sold a pup. And even Sansom regularly gets dissed by crime fans for all the things I love about them!
Oh dear, what a shame about the final 40 pages. In spite of the great characterisation and strong sense of place, I’ll pass on this as I’m a bit sensitive when it comes to crime.
This appeals to me because of the setting and sense of place which you describe so well but it sounds like the book is a bit unsure of what it wants to be. Maybe the first novel would be a better place to start?
They have the same strengths and weaknesses in some ways. I think Fiction Fan’s comment is interesting about the crossover between LitFic and Crime Fiction, and that the things which attract one set may be the things which annoy the other.
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Hmmm, glad this one doesn’t appeal to me. Very glad.
TBR fearful wuss!
Slinks away…..hides behind door, waiting, waiting, waiting to snap a book jacket at the TBR book bully….
Ouch! That HURT!!!!!!!!!! Right on my noggin. in case we speak a different language on this, respective sides of the pond – head.
Oh yes, I know what a noggin is. My mother often told me to use my noggin. 😀