Although the Scandinavian Department at University College London coined the term Nordic Noir in 2010, the genre dates back to the mid 1960s. It began with the Martin Beck novels by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö, partners who wrote together at a kitchen table after putting the children to bed.
The books quickly became an international sensation, and the couple released a new book each year (10 in all). They were as popular in America as in Europe. Still, I wonder how many American readers realised that the books were written by Marxists, as a harsh critique of capitalist society.
The protagonist, Martin Beck, set the tone for most future Nordic Noir characters: deeply human, empathetic, melancholic, flawed – with a messy home life. This contrasted sharply with the US model cop of the time, who was hard-bitten, a maverick, sexist and shrugged off shootouts as if they were nothing.
This was the era of Dirty Harry and The French Connection’s ‘Popeye’ Doyle. Doyle was a flagrantly prejudiced, womanising alcoholic, and Dirty Harry was worse. Roger Ebert described Harry’s character as fascist.
When ‘The Laughing Policeman’, the fourth Martin Beck novel, came out, the American director and producer Stuart Rosenberg decided to adapt it for American audiences. He changed the main character’s name to Jake Martin and turned him into a gritty American street cop. For readers of the book, this was jarring. It was the exact opposite of what Sjöwall and Wahlöö were trying to convey.
This divergence is an inflexion point that contrasts Sweden’s social-democratic values with an increasingly rightward-leaning US. It contrasts the pursuit of societal cohesion with winner-takes-all individualism.
At the same time, as Martin Beck novels were being written, Henning Mankell wrote his first novel. It was about the labour movement in Sweden. He dropped out of school at 16 and travelled to Paris. While there, he joined the May ’68 student rebellion, worked as a deckhand for a while, then returned to Sweden to work as a stagehand. He wrote plays, essays, children’s books and the internationally renowned Kurt Wallander series of Nordic crime novels.
Although he would not be known internationally until 1991, he must also be considered, along with Sjöwall and Wahlöö, as one of the progenitors of Nordic Noir.
During his life, Mankell divided his time between Africa and Sweden, contributing considerable sums to charities and African causes and setting up a theatre in Mozambique. He was a noted left-wing activist who frequently drew attention to inequality and social injustice. He was on board the 2010 Gaza Freedom Flotilla, which was boarded by Israeli commandos; nine activists were killed.
Mankell’s Wallendar books achieve what few crime authors manage. They combine a desire for social justice with clever, nail-biting plotlines. These books (and his essays) are literature in the fullest sense. I doubt that they will ever fade into obscurity. His last work was a series of essays titled ‘Quicksand: What it Means to be Human’.
I love them all, but my favourites are ‘Before the Frost’ and ‘One Step Behind’. As with all his narratives, the tension is palpable. They are books to lose yourself in, but you frequently stop to marvel at Mankell’s sublime gift with words. You identify with his fellow detectives like the nervous Ann-Britt, calm Magness, overconfident Kalle, grumpy Sven or the gentle, perceptive Lisa, Chief of Police. And you worry about Kurt’s insomnia and appalling diet. While these characters have their flaws, they are all the more real for it.
In Nordic Noir, there are very few shootouts, karate fights, deep-state conspiracies, or risky car chases. The cops hate carrying guns (Kurt deliberately leaves his behind even when confronted with danger); they worry about social justice issues, and liberal values are on display. The books rely on clever plots, strong storytelling, and nuance. One writer, though, goes against that grain.
The popular Jo Nesbø novels first appeared in 1997. Nesbø’s Harry Hole differs from most Nordic protagonists: he is a gritty loner with gallows humour, a serious drinking problem, and is an anti-hero. But as you read, you gain insight into his psychology: he suffers from survivor’s guilt. In a recent interview with Nesbø, he was asked to explain why he cast Hole as such an unlikeable character; he replied, “I want people to examine themselves. Being clever doesn’t make you a good human”.
As the genre grew in popularity, women cops became the main protagonists, usually single mothers struggling to balance work demands and childcare.
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While the genre was in its infancy, two events in Sweden deeply shocked the nation. One of them, in particular, became an unspoken yet constant presence throughout Nordic novels – the unsolved murder of the left-wing prime minister Olof Palme.
Palme was a peace-loving Democratic Socialist, and because of his uncompromising stance, he made enemies – particularly outside of Sweden. He was non-aligned and refused to comply with Cold War norms. This put him at odds with both America and Russia (and possibly South Africa).
His murder may or may not have been because of his politics, but it haunts Sweden to this day and is the backdrop to many noirish plotlines. Swedish crime writers like Stieg Larsson spent years privately poring over the case, amassing vast amounts of information and developing theories. When a Swedish cop says, “let’s avoid a Palme situation”, it’s code for police incompetence.
The other event occurred earlier in the sixties: the mysterious downing of Dag Hammarskjöld’s plane while he was the UN’s second Secretary-General. As with the Palme case, international players were implicated. Recent evidence points to proxies of the security forces of the South African apartheid regime. And there is a hint of CIA involvement, magnified by the US refusal to release documentation.
In the USA, events like the Kennedy assassination and Watergate fuelled the US public’s obsession with conspiracy theories. In Sweden, they were more focused on sorting out police force missteps. Cock up rules over conspiracy; embarrassing incompetence over deep state cover-up.
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What started with Swedish writers soon spread around the northern Baltic, and as the genre gained popularity, it reached Iceland, Shetland, and Scotland.
A Nordic Noir in Translation database, covering 2000-2020, lists 408 authors across 10,000-plus translation events. 57 of those authors account for 2/3 of international translations. Among the most popular are Jo Nesbø (Norway), Stieg Larsson (Sweden), Henning Mankell (Sweden), Jörn Lier Horst (Norway), Camilla Läckberg (Sweden), Jussi Adler-Olsen (Denmark), Arnaldur Indriðason (Iceland), Lars Kepler (Sweden), Ragnar Jónasson (Iceland), Leena Lehtolainen (Finland), Satu Rämö (Iceland).
Many have speculated about why these relatively crime-free countries write so convincingly about crime. One writer joked that his books filled the crime deficit by providing what the Nordics lacked. The most popular of these feature serial killers, which is strange, because the number of serial killers in those countries has been minimal. For example, Sweden has recorded 12, and the other Nordic countries far fewer, while the United States has recorded a whopping 3,800.
I have been to most of the countries mentioned, and my son once spent 3 months in Denmark. There is something stoic and no-nonsense about them. We are a chatty lot further south, but in Denmark they never greet each other with weather talk; in fact, small talk isn’t a big thing in those icier regions, but that doesn’t mean they are unfriendly, as communication is often unspoken. In hotels, you will see signs asking you not to be offended if tips are refused, adding, ‘we are not being rude, we are well paid here’. The sign saves them from having to engage over the matter.
The landscapes are central to these books too. If you approach Stockholm by sea, you will notice scars from the ice age. Striations across large, smooth rocky outcrops, known as roches moutonnés (sheepback rocks). The Nordics have very particular landscapes, and the light is softer. Ice and snow are always part of the story, and if a fleeting summer is mentioned, it reminds you that the cold and isolation are never far away. Despite that, moaning about the weather is rare. They may glance anxiously at a darkening sky and wonder whether they will have time to preserve a crime scene, but that is it. It is referenced in matter-of-fact terms.
Sweden has more islands than any country, and Finland has more pine trees and lakes than most, which means a crime investigation often requires jumping on a ferry, cutting a hole in the ice, or, more strangely, calling on the underwater cadaver-dogs (yes, they’re real).
In Icelandic novels, crime solvers spend days or even weeks snowed in; in Satu Rämö’s Icelandic novels, Jakob, a Finnish recruit, sits with the women detectives knitting patterned jumpers until the weather breaks. Except for Nesbø’s Harry Hole, detectives spend much of their time brainstorming with their team. Team effort and community engagement are central themes.
In her book, ‘Scandinavian Noir’, Wendy Lesser points out that narrative game-playing is common, a wink to the reader. She gives the example of a cop comparing a case to a well-known American case (although that American case is fictional). She adds that they let real-life events colour the background; confident local readers can tell the difference between fact and fiction.
A Filmography
It is impossible to write about Nordic Noir without discussing the movies and TV shows. The screenplays are frequently as strong as the novels themselves, and, unsurprisingly, the authors are often involved in shaping these shows.
And the reverse can apply too. One of the most successful and internationally popular Nordic TV series was ‘The Killing’ (Forbrydelsen). Søren Sveistrup, a Dane, wrote the screenplay and, a few years later, he wrote his first novel, The Chestnut Man (also a huge success). Netflix picked it up, and it has had two seasons so far (both filmed in Denmark, mercifully).
Sofie Gråbøl played The Killing’s disobedient detective Sarah Lund, and she stole the show – always wearing her trademark Nordic-patterned jumper throughout the show’s many seasons. The series was addictive.
The US version rewrote the plot and set it in rainy Seattle; it worked well too. The American actress Mireille Enos played Sarah Linden in the American version alongside Joel Kinnaman, who played Holden.
Bron/Broen, better known to English speakers as The Bridge, is another excellent TV series, though not based on a book. Two Nordic Noir novelists shaped the script: Hans Rosenfeldt and Camilla Ahlgren. The plotline and characters are so strong that they spawned international imitators, but few lived up to the task.
The Bridge opens with a report that a woman’s body has been found on the Øresund Bridge that connects Malmö, Sweden, to Copenhagen, Denmark. The body is found to be severed in two and lies across the midpoint, forcing the two countries’ police departments to collaborate. Everything that follows departs from police-procedural norms. For a start, the top half of the body is that of a high-profile Swedish politician, while the bottom half is that of a Danish sex worker.
Then there are the lead characters, Saga Norėn (Sofia Helin) and Martin Rohde (Kim Bodnia). Saga is brilliant, uncompromisingly literal and is clearly on the autism spectrum. Martin, by contrast, is emotional and warm. This provides the scriptwriters with a cornucopia of opportunities, and they don’t squander them.
The character of Saga was foreshadowed in a novel that appeared two years earlier: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the first in Stieg Larsson’s Millennium series. The protagonist, Lisbeth Salander, was also on the autism spectrum, and when the Millennium books reached international audiences, they were an instant sensation. The Swedish films were well received too.
While the original Nordic film versions of The Bridge and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo were excellent, the same isn’t true of the often tiresome imitations that followed.
The British version of The Bridge was titled The Tunnel. What started well soon lost its way, and by season 3, only the leads, Clémence Poésy and Stephen Dillane, kept us watching. The American version presented us with a tangled plot that quickly morphed into a deep-state conspiracy. It was dire.
Two Hollywood films were also based on Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy. The first, despite a $90 million budget, had poor box-office returns. The scripts also deviated from the original unconvincingly, and the proposed second film in the series ultimately faltered amid salary disputes and cost overruns. The project later emerged as a low-budget film, based on a David Lagercrantz ‘Salander’ novel, and was abysmal. That movie, The Girl in the Spider’s Web, bore little resemblance to the original because of its quasi-superhero, action-oriented ethos. Markedly different to Larsson’s characters (or Largercrantz’s).
A TV series I’m watching at present is Wisting, based on the William Wisting novels by Jørn Lier Horst. This is the most expensive TV show ever produced in Norway, and international audiences have embraced it; it has 5 seasons and 26 episodes. It is classic Nordic Noir, with stark but gorgeous snowscapes, skeletal trees, and green firs. The perfect backdrop for the methodical, rugged-up police team as they trudge through the countryside in search of evildoers. Wisting’s headstrong journalist daughter, Line, is a co-protagonist. Sven Nordin plays Wisting, and Thea Green Lundberg plays Line. The cinematography is stunning throughout (available on Sky).
The Finnish TV series Deadwind (Karppi) is among the finest Nordic Noir productions. A team of Finnish screenwriting professionals, including several popular authors, wrote the screenplay. With its stunning cinematography and great characters, the series is a favourite of mine and the best place to start if you’re exploring what’s called ‘Helsinki Noir’. Like most Nordic police procedurals, Deadwind confronts human trafficking and similar issues unflinchingly. It’s on Netflix.
The Icelandic series Trapped is well worth watching, too. The main characters are simply delightful, and the gloom and isolation of the long snowstorms contrast with dazzling white periods once the sun breaks through.
And lastly, the Wallander TV series. Many will have seen the British version and wondered about the locations and casting. As I watched, I wondered how it managed to feel both British and Swedish, and the answer lies with the production companies. A company Henning Mankell founded, Yellow Bird, started the project, and BBC Scotland soon joined in. As a result, the script closely followed the plots and order of the books.
Most of the actors were British, and it was filmed in Ystad, Sweden, which added authenticity, as Ystad is central to the action in the books. In the British version, Kenneth Branagh plays Kurt, a dominant and somewhat isolated figure. The British accents give it a surreal atmosphere, since it is so obviously Swedish.
There was an earlier Wallander series shot in Sweden, and that has a more naturalistic feel. It places less emphasis on Kurt and more on the team working collaboratively. It didn’t follow the novels, except Before the Frost, and interestingly, Mankell wrote all the plotlines and created the concept for that series too. Except for that one novel, they are all new stories. After the Frost was meant to start the Linda Wallander series, but when the Swedish actress Johanna Sällström, playing Linda, committed suicide, Mankell was devastated and abandoned the idea. The noted Swedish actor Krister Henriksson played Kurt in the original.
These examples highlight the differences between Nordic authors and scriptwriters and those in the US or Europe. Content creators have more control than the money men.
Tartan Noir
Unsurprisingly, Anne Cleeves’s Jimmy Perez books have a Nordic vibe. The books are set in the Shetland Islands, which were part of Norway until 1472. Everything about Shetland feels Nordic, with its wild, sparse, jagged coastline and Viking festivals; Shetlanders are more likely to shop in Bergen than in Edinburgh. Cleeves, a Brit, once worked there as a cook in the bird observatory. The TV series had me from episode one, and it is one of my favourite shows. I have rewatched it at least four times, once on a ship in the North Sea during a storm.
David Kane, Paul Logue, and others wrote the Shetland TV series screenplay. This is epic storytelling, and as with Nordic Noir, the landscape itself is a member of the cast. The brilliant Douglas Henshall plays DI Jimmy Perez, and Alison O’Donnell plays DI McIntosh (Tosh). After Douglas Henshall’s departure, the final seasons have been less popular.
The cinematic connection between Scotland and its Nordic neighbours is growing stronger. Most notably, the highly rated Netflix series Department Q adapts the Afdeling Q books by Danish author Jussi Adler-Olsen. Denmark had already adapted four of these books into film, starting with The Keeper of Lost Causes. All were successful, but the author was unhappy with some aspects and has sold the rights for future adaptations to Nordisk Film. The characters are misfits, sent to work on unsolvable crimes in a gloomy basement. The three protagonists are Carl Mørck, Assad, and Merete Lynggaard (played by Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Fares Fares, and Sonja Richter). The Scottish version starred Matthew Goode, Chloe Pirrie and Alexej Manvelov.
Footnote: my last word should go to the translators, who are frequently but undeservedly ignored in reviews. Because I am not a Nordic or Finnish language speaker, I take their translations on trust, and if I enjoyed the translation, does it matter? It would matter to the author, some of whom have withdrawn the rights or changed translators for that reason. And there is something else too: these Nordic authors will be very good English speakers and competent to critique the translation. Nordics speak multiple languages, and here are some statistics. English-language speakers according to Eurobarometer: Sweden – 89%, Norway – 90%, Denmark – 86%, Iceland 100%, Finland – 53%. In Nordic countries, there is no English dubbing.
Sources: ‘Scandinavian Noir: In Pursuit of a Mystery’ by Wendy Lesser, The Wallander books by Henning Mankell, ‘Quicksand: What it Means to be a Human Being’ by Henning Mankell, ‘The Snowman’ by Jo Nesbø, ‘The Millennium Trilogy’ by Stieg Larsson, ‘Millennium Series 4 & 5’ by David Lagercrantz, The Martin Beck books by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö, The ‘Wisting’ books by Jörn Lier Horst‘, ‘Cold Case Hammarskjöld ’ a film by Mads Brűgger, ‘Who Killed Hammarskjöld: The UN, The Cold War and White Supremacy in South Africa’ by Susan Williams, ‘The Man Who Played With Fire: Stieg Larsson’s Lost Files & The Hunt for an Assassin’ by Jan Stocklassa, ‘The Grave in the Ice’ by Satu Rämo, ‘The Keeper of Lost Causes’ by Jussi Adler-Olsen. The Nordic Noir in Translation database.
