The best books about Scandinavia

Reykjavik Police Inspector Erlendur and his associate, Sigurdur Oli, are sent to investigate the murder of an old man bashed with an ashtray. They soon uncover his sordid past, in which he was accused of rape. Traipsing from clue to clue, interviewing tangential witnesses, they learn more about why he was killed and eventually discover the perpetrator, whose life was tragically altered by the actions of the murdered man. Erlendur and Oli are like the Odd Couple but complement each other in their work. The title refers to the practice of keeping organs in jars for medical research, which figures into the investigation. The journey to the solution of the case is very satisfying. 

Now here’s a fun flip on so-called “cosy” crime. Remember the twist of Columbo, the way the show started with us viewers seeing the murderer commit the crime and then allowing us to watch Columbo slowly assembled his case against them? This book by Helene Tursten and translated to English by Marlaine Delargy offers a similar vibe. Our protagonist Maud has more than one notch on her proverbial belt, and we get to hear about each killing, along with the justification for them all. All the grit you’d expect from Scandinavian crime, but with the delightful slant of this outwardly fragile old lady being the center of it all. From Sweden to South Africa, Maud makes her mark! Plus there are cookie recipes, with a distinctly Scandi-noir flavor.

Tony Williams is a writer living in the United Kingdom and his novel, Nutcase, is the most recent one on my list. Nutcase is a faithful retelling of The Saga of Grettir the Strong, only set in a slum in modern-day northern England. The transposition of a story originating in medieval Iceland to this present-day context makes it one of the most bizarre and unique novels I’ve ever read (in a good way). The story stays true to the saga’s plot and characters while bringing them to their new context in a very believable manner. The book is a wild ride and full of all sorts of English slang and colloquialisms which I enjoyed immensely in their own right. 

I’m a sucker for any story about a real woman in history.

Hild is the story of Hilda of Whitby, whom we meet as a child in 7th-century Britain. It's a novel that revels in language and sensory detail, when it comes to both the natural world and the human one. It is particularly interested in relationships between women.

This novel puts us into the mindset of a girl growing up in an age of political ferment, in the context of a whole set of traditions and stories, and helps us understand why she makes the choices she does.

Having made my creative name as project designer responsible for the original Jorvik Viking Centre in York, UK, this book uses words and historical illustrations to do what we attempted to do. It was to place the observer into an experience from the past, which would be in such detail and authenticity that it’s as close, I believe, to time travel as our generation will achieve. Truth, fascination, and amazement. Why I like this book is it achieved what archaeologists, scientists, and interpretive designers strove to achieve. 

A Greek bureaucrat is accompanied by two old members of the Varangian Guard escorting money from one part of the Byzantium Empire to another. Each night he has to put up with one or the other Norsemen telling him about the discovery of America: one thinks the other is his best mate when in fact the man hates him and spends most of the adventure trying to get away from him. Accompanying them is a young put-on squadie who, in later years, became known as Harald Hardrada, Christendom’s greatest warrior who spread war and fear throughout the north sea lands.

I found it all so funny and it encouraged me to stick quite a bit of humour in my all own writings, not that I needed much encouragement.

In 1842, after 45 years of frustratingly sedentary domesticity, the Austrian-born Ida Pfeiffer gave full vent to her wanderlust. Within five years, her jaw-dropping round-the-world journeys would make her one of the most widely-traveled persons of that century, while her talent for vivid portrayals made her one of the most well-known travel writers. Of her many chronicles, I especially enjoy this tale of her 1845 trip to the northern reaches of Scandinavia and Iceland—a place almost no continental Europeans had visited and few even knew existed. Pfeiffer’s insights and thoughtful reportage, as well as a newly emerging fascination with Iceland and Icelanders in our own time, has given this rare travel narrative new currency.

I wish I could write like Jo Nesbø. His detective, Harry Hole, faces the worst of the worst sadistic criminals and somehow succeeds, but not always without cost, both to himself and those near to him. In this first Hole story, the Oslo police detective is dispatched to Australia to investigate the murder of a Norwegian citizen. The case is complex, he falls in love, falls off the wagon, and finds suspects who later become victims. Nesbø has a way of keeping you guessing, with plenty of red herrings, a slew of suspects and many grisly deaths along the way. The prose is precise, inventive, compelling. In short, a master at the craft, even in his first story.

I cried a lot, when I read this book at first. Later on I have returned to it now and then and find relief in its clear way to describe how important it is not to try to repress your grief. Face it and work through it, and you’ll afterward feel better and stronger than ever before.

Throughout life we have many opportunities to practice mourning. The better you become at going through grief, the greater becomes your courage to go into new loving relationships, and the better you become at loving.

Recent genetic research on the human remains of a 10th-century Viking grave excavated in 1878 in Birka, Sweden, rocked the world of Viking studies when it determined that the warrior buried with numerous weapons and two horses was not male, but female. I loved how this author imagines what that woman’s life might have been like. She also suggests that the woman buried in the Birka grave was merely one of many female Viking warriors, offering data drawn from archaeological finds, from historical accounts, from language studies, and from the sagas to support the theory that ‘shield maids’ really did exist. I had been dubious about the possibility of female Vikings, but the arguments presented in this book are too compelling. Reading it changed my mind. Now I’m a believer.

Blair approaches the history of these centuries by dividing mainland Britain into environmental and cultural zones. In doing so, he highlights the role of geography, geology, infrastructure, trade and even rainfall in determining trends of settlement, social cohesion, and material culture. Blair examines how landscapes were created – the evolution of villages, towns, and religious complexes – while exploring the relationship between centres of power and the satellite hubs around them. The book is richly served by colour images, artists’ reconstructions, maps, and diagrams. Comparisons to Scandinavia (where early timber structures survive) help bring the houses and surroundings of the Anglo-Saxons vividly to life.

Judith Jesch is Professor of Viking Studies at the University of Nottingham and whilst she is primarily a specialist in early medieval literature she has a rare inter-disciplinary command of historical and archaeological sources. In this sweeping review of the Viking World she provides an authoritative overview of the Scandinavians at home and their migrations overseas, with a particular focus on gender and the family, and cults, beliefs and myths. By using the concept of diaspora, she focuses on the ways in which migrants maintained their sense of cultural identity with the Scandinavian homelands and other areas of Scandinavian migration. The interconnectedness of the Viking world is at the heart of this book, and language is seen as key to the maintenance of the Viking diaspora, reinforced by texts and material culture.

A young girl lives in secret on a lonely Danish island – some time earlier, hoping to protect his daughter from the outside world, her father faked her death. And so she lives, with her increasingly infirm mother, the imagined ghost of her dead brother, and her (as we eventually discover) totally insane father, in a house of accumulated rubbish and rodents. 

I met Ane Riel at a festival in Sweden a couple of years ago and liked her enormously, so was very keen to read her award-winning book. I wasn’t disappointed. It is a deeply original and truly disturbing story.

Danish parenting advice is the best thing to come out of Denmark since hygge and in this book, authors Jessica Joelle Alexander and Iben Sandahl explain why. Stressing emotional health, free play, and – of course – hygge, The Danish Way of Parenting makes a strong case for a more empathetic way of raising children than the old school authoritarian style and gives parents practical tools to avoid yelling and spanking. A modern parenting classic with a decidedly Scandinavian flavor.

Let's go Swedish! Henning Mankell and Stieg Larson are the most famous Swedish mystery writers, but my favorite is Håkim Nesser who has written ten books featuring Inspector Van Veeteren, and quite a few other suspense novels as well. Van Veeteren is a subtle, quiet detective who observes life closely and ends up running an antique book store, from where he still solves the occasional crime. I'm not sure why the Scandinavian countries are producing such wonderful suspense authors. Perhaps it's the cold brooding weather, the snow! The introspection!

The author is one of the most renowned scholars of the ancient Northern world. This book is here because I find it a gold mine of artifacts and all are accompanied by the most extensive illustrations possible on every page. There are burial ships for journeying to Valhalla, pictures of ax men on the rampage in England, a solar disc on wheels being pulled by a bronze horse, elaborately carved prows of Viking ships, Christ crucified carved as being held prisoner entangled in the tree Yggdrasil. If you can’t make the journey, but are intrigued by the artifacts of the pagan-Christian world, this is the book to settle down with by the fireplace on a cold winter’s eve.

Taking place in northern Sweden, where the cold and snowy environment plays its own part, this story focuses on a cult-like church where the founder has been brutally murdered. A lawyer and friend of the victim’s sister, Rebecka Martinsson, travels up from Stockholm to help solve the case. It’s dark and gritty and suspenseful – it’s also the first of 6 books. 

Johan Theorin has received so much praise and accolades for this book that it feels a bit repetitive to heap more on. But here goes anyway. Like most of the books recommended here this one couples a mystery and a ghost story, never leaning completely to one side. The family moving into and restoring an old house is not exactly trailblazing in the ghostly realm but that does not matter at all. There is never too much of a good thing in my opinion. But make no mistake that a haunted house is not all that is being dealt with here, enter lighthouses, past shipwrecks, and drownings. Throw in present-day drug-addicted burglars, a tragedy, and excerpts from an old manuscript and the outcome is a master class in eeriness, drawing from an incredible sense of place and great storytelling.     

In this genre-bending novel the author weaves Norse myth with a tale set in the very real world of early medieval Iceland. Her descriptions of the landscape are wondrous, and her portrayal of the lives and culture of the early settlers of Iceland ring true. I loved how she quite successfully brought the Norse gods and one particular goddess down to earth. I am not as knowledgeable about the Nordic gods and their stories as I would like to be. This novel was a terrific way to begin a journey of discovery taking me in that direction.

Giles Blunt's books show that Scandinavia does not have a monopoly on Nordic Noir. In 2017 we were on vacation in Canada and quite by chance I saw an episode of Cardinal on TV. Only one episode from the first season, but enough to keep me captivated by the story set in the snowy landscapes of Algonquin Bay in Canada. I knew it was based on a book series. When I got home, I immediately found the author and started reading. I chose this book because of some amazing passages that capture the essence of Nordic Noir, among others a frozen body in the ruins of an abandoned hotel in the woods. The book presents a clever plot where seemingly unrelated threads are ingeniously weaved together.