Civitas urnarum

Occasionally, when Erasmus is feeling down, he likes to be reminded that there are entire cultures who are more depressed than he. At these moments, Scandinavian mystery fiction is Erasmus's genre of choice. They frequently feature detectives like Maj Sjövall & Per Wahlöö's classic Martin Beck who goes from unhappy marriage to unhappy divorce to sorta-happy relationship. Henning Mankell's world-weary Kurt Wallander isn't as burdened, but he's clearly carrying an existential burden.

So it was with a mixture of astonishment and glee that Erasmus happened upon Jar City by Arnuldur Indriðason. Indriðason's sleuth, Inspector Erlendur (Icelanders use only a given name and a patronymic) has not only an unsympathetic ex-wife, but a heroin-addicted daughter who's pregnant. Ah, the exquisite despair.

Erasmus kids a bit. However, Jar City is an excellent read, though the title refers to a fairly minor plot point. It was clearly an evocative phrase that the English-language publishers liked. Erasmus very much prefers the Icelandic Mýrin, or The Mire, which is in fact a leitmotif in the book.

Erasmus very much enjoyed the book, the plot of which combines an investigation into a an apparently innocuous murder victim's exceedingly sordid past with a twist which can genuinely be described as uniquely Icelandic. Erasmus very much hopes that more of Arnuldur Indriðason's works make it into English.

Placet.

(Typographical note: alas, the edh and thorn do not appear in the work. And Mr. Arnuldur's patronymic appears on the cover with a d-with-bar à la viétnamiènne rather than an edh [ð]. Erasmus apologizes to Iceland and Viking descendants everywhere.)