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3.67 AVERAGE
3.67 AVERAGE
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Winterkill is a bittersweet book in the Dark Iceland series. Knowing it is the last book makes it all the more emotive because we’re saying goodbye to a character that we’ve been with for six books now. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve read and loved every one of these books, and Winterkill is no different.
Winterkill is a sophisticated narrative, more so than previous books. It is dealing with relevant issues in today’s society which makes it all the more emotive for the reader. It is very current, while also maintaining that Christie-esque old time feeling that you pick up on in the other books in the series so far.
I found Winterkill to be quite a sad read in terms of the subject matter. You, as a reader, really feel for some of the characters as they are going through this horrible time. Jónasson really captures the emotionally fragile states of grief and trauma in Winterkill.
The sense of isolation in both the location and the way the characters are experiencing their own versions of isolation in their lives was very well captured. It does seem like loneliness and/or isolation are almost tangible characters themselves in Winterkill such is their prevalence throughout the narrative.
Emotional, atmospheric and deeply unsettling, Winterkill is a poignant and fitting end to a series that has held me captivated from the opening lines of Snowblind.
Highly recommended.
Always.
Winterkill is a sophisticated narrative, more so than previous books. It is dealing with relevant issues in today’s society which makes it all the more emotive for the reader. It is very current, while also maintaining that Christie-esque old time feeling that you pick up on in the other books in the series so far.
I found Winterkill to be quite a sad read in terms of the subject matter. You, as a reader, really feel for some of the characters as they are going through this horrible time. Jónasson really captures the emotionally fragile states of grief and trauma in Winterkill.
The sense of isolation in both the location and the way the characters are experiencing their own versions of isolation in their lives was very well captured. It does seem like loneliness and/or isolation are almost tangible characters themselves in Winterkill such is their prevalence throughout the narrative.
Emotional, atmospheric and deeply unsettling, Winterkill is a poignant and fitting end to a series that has held me captivated from the opening lines of Snowblind.
Highly recommended.
Always.
sad
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
A short read at just over 200 pages. For me, not enough atmosphere or depth of character / plot. I found some of the dialogues unrealistic. Overall a little disappointed, perhaps just not my type of read.
dark
mysterious
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Back by popular demand, Winterkill marks the culmination of the excellent Dark Iceland series. Ragnar Jonasson will not let us part ways with police inspector Ari Thór Arason without one last tricky case to test him with, as a blizzard threatens Siglufjörður, and Arason undergoes his own personal reckoning…
Jonasson has a wonderful knack of putting a dark, sordid crime at the heart of his books but never fails to leave you with a more overriding final impression of the essential goodness of his central character, police inspector Ari Thór Arason. Grappling with the repercussions of his relationship break up, the temptation of a revived dalliance, the seeming lack of respect afforded to him despite his promotion, and a case of suicide that leads to a nasty conclusion, Arason has more than enough on his plate. However, once again, through Jonasson’s meticulous characterisation of Arason, we traverse his own personal and professional highs and lows, wanting to give him a good shake at some points, or a reassuring hug at others. His parting from his former boss Tomas (now based in Reykjavik) provides moments of pure pathos, but somehow lessens the impetus of the book, as the way they worked together and bounced ideas arounds added a nice little frisson to their investigations. In matters of the heart, Arason remains largely floundering as usual, unsure as to whether his former relationship with the mother of his child has any chance of being resurrected, or whether to pursue an old flame, the flames of which had seemingly been doused near the beginning of the series. It is these ruminations on his future happiness that do rather slow the book down at times, but at least it sets our minds at rest that there is some hope of a new life and fresh beginnings for our earnest police officer.
Once again, the rugged and at time inhospitable landscape of Siglufjörður permeates the book, where even an upcoming religious festival cannot curtail the inclemency of the climate, and the particular difficulties it places on its inhabitants. Although Arason has one eye on a new posting in Reykjavik, he himself recognises the way that this remote little town has exerted its influence on him both in a real and metaphorical sense, ” By now, he felt a strong sense of connection to Siglufjörður. Something was keeping him here, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. It was almost as if the place didn’t want him to leave… he had grown to love the isolation and tranquillity of the place.”
Although with this backdrop of Arason’s emotional back and forth, the central crime is a little linear in its progression, it is a sordid enough little mystery, for Jonasson to expose the darkness that lies behind the veneer of respectability. Having just discovered that Winterkill was written mainly because of popular demand for another book in the pretty much faultless Dark Iceland series, I did find it a little more slight compared to the others. However, it is still worth a look as the strength of his characterisation, and beautiful sense of place holds true throughout.
Jonasson has a wonderful knack of putting a dark, sordid crime at the heart of his books but never fails to leave you with a more overriding final impression of the essential goodness of his central character, police inspector Ari Thór Arason. Grappling with the repercussions of his relationship break up, the temptation of a revived dalliance, the seeming lack of respect afforded to him despite his promotion, and a case of suicide that leads to a nasty conclusion, Arason has more than enough on his plate. However, once again, through Jonasson’s meticulous characterisation of Arason, we traverse his own personal and professional highs and lows, wanting to give him a good shake at some points, or a reassuring hug at others. His parting from his former boss Tomas (now based in Reykjavik) provides moments of pure pathos, but somehow lessens the impetus of the book, as the way they worked together and bounced ideas arounds added a nice little frisson to their investigations. In matters of the heart, Arason remains largely floundering as usual, unsure as to whether his former relationship with the mother of his child has any chance of being resurrected, or whether to pursue an old flame, the flames of which had seemingly been doused near the beginning of the series. It is these ruminations on his future happiness that do rather slow the book down at times, but at least it sets our minds at rest that there is some hope of a new life and fresh beginnings for our earnest police officer.
Once again, the rugged and at time inhospitable landscape of Siglufjörður permeates the book, where even an upcoming religious festival cannot curtail the inclemency of the climate, and the particular difficulties it places on its inhabitants. Although Arason has one eye on a new posting in Reykjavik, he himself recognises the way that this remote little town has exerted its influence on him both in a real and metaphorical sense, ” By now, he felt a strong sense of connection to Siglufjörður. Something was keeping him here, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. It was almost as if the place didn’t want him to leave… he had grown to love the isolation and tranquillity of the place.”
Although with this backdrop of Arason’s emotional back and forth, the central crime is a little linear in its progression, it is a sordid enough little mystery, for Jonasson to expose the darkness that lies behind the veneer of respectability. Having just discovered that Winterkill was written mainly because of popular demand for another book in the pretty much faultless Dark Iceland series, I did find it a little more slight compared to the others. However, it is still worth a look as the strength of his characterisation, and beautiful sense of place holds true throughout.
dark
mysterious
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
dark
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
I was later coming to Ragnar Jónasson's Dark Iceland series which meant I was able to read the first five novels in the same year. It seemed as though Whiteout would be the final book but, much to my joy, Ragnar has been persuaded to bring back Ari Thór Arason for one more story.
Seven years have passed since Ari Thór first arrived in Siglufjörður and in some ways he's a very different man. He's now the Inspector and contrary to the previous novels where he was mentored by the patient, understanding Tómas, he now has a younger officer working beneath him. However, he hasn't developed the same sort of rapport with Ögmundur and leads a rather lonely, solitary life since being separated from his girlfriend, Kristin and three-year-old son.
He isn't affected as badly by claustrophobia during the long, dark winter nights and has learned to accept and perhaps even embrace the frequently inclement weather conditions. Nevertheless he is in the odd position of still feeling that he will always be somewhat of an outsider, while also recognising that he has been accepted by many of his fellow Siglufjörður residents. Ari Thór could never be considered an open book, he is an inherently reserved man but Winterkill gives us a fascinating glimpse into his mind, revealing his various thoughts, particularly his worries about his relationship with his son and his dilemmas regarding the direction of his career and where he wants to end up living. In some ways, he has grown to think of Siglufjörður as home and has even become resistant to change in the town; the building of a new tunnel has reduced the risk of the town being cut off from the world during the harshest winter months and the new wave of prosperity following the financial crisis means there has been an influx of visitors from all over the world. He might still be considering a move back to Reykjavik but when he grumbles to himself about the constant upheaval and the Easter tourists, he sounds more like a local than perhaps he is aware.
Siglufjörður remains a safe place to live and so it's perhaps not surprising that Ari Thór should be so affected by the discovery of a young woman who has fallen, jumped or been pushed to her death. There is little violence in Winterkill with Unnur's death occurring off the page but although Ari Thór betrays no outward sign of emotion, the sparse power of Ragnar Jónasson's prose leaves readers left in little doubt that sight is horrific. He suspects the cause of death is probably suicide but ever meticulous, almost single-handedly conducts the investigation, despite it meaning he misses out on precious time with Kristin and Stefnir. He is reunited with his old flame, Ugla when she comes to him, concerned that an old man who lives in the care home she works in may know something about the death, as he has written 'She was murdered' over and again on his bedroom walls. However, he is suffering from end-stage dementia and is therefore not a reliable enough witness to base an entire case around. As the book progresses, it seems that almost everybody could be a suspect as they all seem so reluctant to divulge the truth. Winterkill is not a graphic action-packed novel but it is undeniably suspenseful - a blizzard hits town causing a power cut and the frigid darkness corresponds to the chilling tone of the investigation which takes a bleak turn as the dreadful truth behind what really led to Unnur's tragic death is finally revealed.
There is something about Ragnar Jonasson's writing which is so immersive, I lose all track of time when I'm reading his books and Winterkill is no exception. David Warriner's excellent translation perfectly captures the rhythm and tone of the original, meaning it flows effortlessly throughout. There is such a timeless quality to Winterkill yet it is still utterly contemporary. Elegant, melancholy and poignant, this exquisitely atmospheric book is almost certainly the final Dark Iceland novel and although I'll always leave a light on for Ari Thor's return, it is a moving, fitting conclusion to this exceptional series.
Seven years have passed since Ari Thór first arrived in Siglufjörður and in some ways he's a very different man. He's now the Inspector and contrary to the previous novels where he was mentored by the patient, understanding Tómas, he now has a younger officer working beneath him. However, he hasn't developed the same sort of rapport with Ögmundur and leads a rather lonely, solitary life since being separated from his girlfriend, Kristin and three-year-old son.
He isn't affected as badly by claustrophobia during the long, dark winter nights and has learned to accept and perhaps even embrace the frequently inclement weather conditions. Nevertheless he is in the odd position of still feeling that he will always be somewhat of an outsider, while also recognising that he has been accepted by many of his fellow Siglufjörður residents. Ari Thór could never be considered an open book, he is an inherently reserved man but Winterkill gives us a fascinating glimpse into his mind, revealing his various thoughts, particularly his worries about his relationship with his son and his dilemmas regarding the direction of his career and where he wants to end up living. In some ways, he has grown to think of Siglufjörður as home and has even become resistant to change in the town; the building of a new tunnel has reduced the risk of the town being cut off from the world during the harshest winter months and the new wave of prosperity following the financial crisis means there has been an influx of visitors from all over the world. He might still be considering a move back to Reykjavik but when he grumbles to himself about the constant upheaval and the Easter tourists, he sounds more like a local than perhaps he is aware.
Siglufjörður remains a safe place to live and so it's perhaps not surprising that Ari Thór should be so affected by the discovery of a young woman who has fallen, jumped or been pushed to her death. There is little violence in Winterkill with Unnur's death occurring off the page but although Ari Thór betrays no outward sign of emotion, the sparse power of Ragnar Jónasson's prose leaves readers left in little doubt that sight is horrific. He suspects the cause of death is probably suicide but ever meticulous, almost single-handedly conducts the investigation, despite it meaning he misses out on precious time with Kristin and Stefnir. He is reunited with his old flame, Ugla when she comes to him, concerned that an old man who lives in the care home she works in may know something about the death, as he has written 'She was murdered' over and again on his bedroom walls. However, he is suffering from end-stage dementia and is therefore not a reliable enough witness to base an entire case around. As the book progresses, it seems that almost everybody could be a suspect as they all seem so reluctant to divulge the truth. Winterkill is not a graphic action-packed novel but it is undeniably suspenseful - a blizzard hits town causing a power cut and the frigid darkness corresponds to the chilling tone of the investigation which takes a bleak turn as the dreadful truth behind what really led to Unnur's tragic death is finally revealed.
There is something about Ragnar Jonasson's writing which is so immersive, I lose all track of time when I'm reading his books and Winterkill is no exception. David Warriner's excellent translation perfectly captures the rhythm and tone of the original, meaning it flows effortlessly throughout. There is such a timeless quality to Winterkill yet it is still utterly contemporary. Elegant, melancholy and poignant, this exquisitely atmospheric book is almost certainly the final Dark Iceland novel and although I'll always leave a light on for Ari Thor's return, it is a moving, fitting conclusion to this exceptional series.
It felt good to be reunited with Ari Thór.
After taking a long break from the Dark Iceland series, Ragnar Jónasson takes us back to the remote Siglufjörður. Ari Thór, now the local chief of police, leads an investigation into the apparent suicide of a teenage girl while trying to reunite with his son over the Easter holidays.
For those who have followed the series, it’s a beautiful trip down the memory lane – a lot of old characters pops up in this newest instalment. But if it’s your first encounter with Dark Iceland, don’t worry, all relevant past events are neatly explained (in a spoiler-free fashion) so you can easily start with this one and then catch up with the rest after you get hooked.
Winterkill gives you a detective story with a bonus insight into a small, Icelandic town. Siglufjörður provides a perfect setting for dropping some red herrings, since coincidences and unexpected interrelationships are rather understandable in such a tight community. I really appreciated the realism, there’s a whole palette of grey characters and down-to-earth romance, no pretentious good/bad split of the cast or Hollywood love stories.
But what I love most about Ragnar Jónasson’s books is that, with balancing Agatha Christie’s cosy vibes and the Nordic chill, he sets the pace that keeps you invested in the story, yet allows you to fully relax. Just as his previous books, Winterkill makes a perfect read for the winter holiday season.
It was nice to watch Ari Thór slowly becoming native to Sigló throughout the series, and in Winterkill, after the conclusion of the criminal plot, we get a quiet good bye to our town and our boy. I found it very sentimental, yet I still hope it was just the end of the season and not the series finale.
I would like to thank Orenda Books and Edelweiss+ for the ARC of this book.
After taking a long break from the Dark Iceland series, Ragnar Jónasson takes us back to the remote Siglufjörður. Ari Thór, now the local chief of police, leads an investigation into the apparent suicide of a teenage girl while trying to reunite with his son over the Easter holidays.
For those who have followed the series, it’s a beautiful trip down the memory lane – a lot of old characters pops up in this newest instalment. But if it’s your first encounter with Dark Iceland, don’t worry, all relevant past events are neatly explained (in a spoiler-free fashion) so you can easily start with this one and then catch up with the rest after you get hooked.
Winterkill gives you a detective story with a bonus insight into a small, Icelandic town. Siglufjörður provides a perfect setting for dropping some red herrings, since coincidences and unexpected interrelationships are rather understandable in such a tight community. I really appreciated the realism, there’s a whole palette of grey characters and down-to-earth romance, no pretentious good/bad split of the cast or Hollywood love stories.
But what I love most about Ragnar Jónasson’s books is that, with balancing Agatha Christie’s cosy vibes and the Nordic chill, he sets the pace that keeps you invested in the story, yet allows you to fully relax. Just as his previous books, Winterkill makes a perfect read for the winter holiday season.
It was nice to watch Ari Thór slowly becoming native to Sigló throughout the series, and in Winterkill, after the conclusion of the criminal plot, we get a quiet good bye to our town and our boy. I found it very sentimental, yet I still hope it was just the end of the season and not the series finale.
I would like to thank Orenda Books and Edelweiss+ for the ARC of this book.
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Thank you to NetGalley, Ragnar Jonasson and Orenda books for the free e-book in exchange for an honest review.
I was looking forward to another Ari Thor novel, but I was also a bit nervous that maybe one more would be too many and I wouldn't enjoy it as much as the last few. But I was wrong, this one jumps right into the thick of things like we never left. The crime and the investigation was different this time around with Ari running things on his own. I really enjoyed the novel and as always the small snowy town. I am so glad that Jonasson decided to write another Thor novel. Definitely recommend.
I was looking forward to another Ari Thor novel, but I was also a bit nervous that maybe one more would be too many and I wouldn't enjoy it as much as the last few. But I was wrong, this one jumps right into the thick of things like we never left. The crime and the investigation was different this time around with Ari running things on his own. I really enjoyed the novel and as always the small snowy town. I am so glad that Jonasson decided to write another Thor novel. Definitely recommend.