The concept of Nordic Noir embraces a large and very diverse collection of novels—and
sometimes also film and TV productions. Its common thread is that it all belongs to
the genre of crime fiction, albeit widely defined, but the term covers anything from
traditional whodunits, to spy-novels and thrillers. The most obvious common denominator,
however, seems to be that the authors originate from the Nordic countries: from Sweden,
Norway, Denmark, Iceland, or Finland. In terms of chronology, Nordic Noir generally
refers to the relatively recent decades, starting with the Swedish Maj Sjöwall and
Per Wahlöö’s novels of the mid-1960s. Conceptually speaking, however, the main focus
tends to be on the years since the turn of the Millennium, 2000. The Nordic Noir crime
novels can be set anywhere and everywhere—from rural Iceland to the Nordic metropolitan
capitals such as Stockholm and Copenhagen, to places in Asia, Africa, Europe, South
America, Australia, as well as in the United States—and most likely Canada too.
It is clear that most of the fiction embraced by the Nordic Noir concept has nothing
to do with “Noir” as we traditionally know it from international crime fiction and
film history. Part
of the truth about why the use of this term has become so popular is, of course, that
Nordic Noir has a great alliteration and sounds catchy, but there is a little more
to it than that. Based on an examination of large numbers of international reviews
of and articles about Nordic crime fiction, the following can be noted: first, the
“noir” in Nordic Noir seems to refer to an idea about the cold and dark Nordic winters,
when days are short and nights long, and to the waste and desolate landscapes of the
northern latitudes. International scholars and critics interpret the sparsely populated
landscape and the extreme character of the seasons almost as symbols representing
a Nordic sentiment or mentality. The cold and darkness along with the Nordic countryside
scenery is also commonly reflected on the covers of international translations, for
example the cover images on Camilla Läckberg’s The Ice Princess (2008), Jo Nesbø’s The Leopard (2011), and Helene Tursten’s The Glass Devil (2007), just to mention a few, all display a snowy countryside landscape with frosted
trees
set against a black sky. No matter in what season the novels are set, a disproportionate number have snowy
scenes on their covers, and a large portion of the remainder feature images of Nordic
landscapes—even if they are set in metropolitan cities. An example of the latter is
Liza Marklund’s The Bomber (2011), which is set in Stockholm but depicts a tree-lined countryside winter road
on the
cover.
Second, there is a common preconception that Nordic fiction is particularly violent
(cf., Gallagher), but although there is the occasional very violent story, Nordic
crime fiction is actually no more violent than any other crime fiction. This reputation
has probably originated from Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy, and particularly from the scenes in Män som hatar kvinnor (2005) [The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 2009] where Lisbeth Salander is raped and when she later takes revenge by, in turn,
raping
her rapist (Larsson 230–35, 240–46). In Larsson’s text, these rape scenes are short
and not very explicitly described.
Nevertheless, they have become the most widely discussed scenes of Nordic crime fiction,
and as they have been used to illustrate the abundance of graphic violence in crime
fiction in general, they have gathered a reputation that has very little to do with
what is actually present in Larsson’s novel (cf., Horeck, Gregersdotter, and Åström
4).
Third, in addition to the cold and dark landscapes and the reputation of excessive
violence, the Nordic Noir concept also draws on the bleakness of the crime genre in
general. Crime and criminality are by definition dark aspects of contemporary society,
aspects that are mirrored in all crime fiction—be it Nordic or any other—and this
has also no doubt contributed to the labelling of Nordic crime fiction as Noir.
Why do foreign readers then desire Nordic Noir? And are there really any unifying
elements, common to this large and diverse body of literature? The answer to the second
question is actually “yes,” and these common aspects also constitute an important
part of what makes these novels
so desirable to an international audience. Making generalizations concerning the motivations
of large and diverse audiences must of course always be based primarily on initiated
guesswork. In this case, the reasons suggested in what follows as to why international
readers have developed a preference for Nordic Noir are founded in the reading of
an extensive amount of international (primarily English language) reviews and other
reactions to Scandinavian crime fiction over many years as well as in the study of
cover designs and other promotional material relating to the fiction in (primarily
English) translation. In addition to the observations of its reception and promotional
material, the many questions and comments I have received from foreign readers and
scholars over the years when speaking about Scandinavian crime fiction in international
contexts have also been taken into consideration. This has led to the conclusion that
there are five main reasons why international readers desire Nordic Noir—as apart
from just craving crime fiction in general—and these are also factors common to a
large part of Nordic crime fiction of recent decades:
- The Stieg Larsson effect
- Welfare state criticism
- (Relative) gender equality and strong women characters
- Exotic landscapes and settings
- A strong bond to the Anglo-American crime fiction tradition
I believe these five factors to be of equal importance. Additionally, a few more but
somewhat less important factors can be included: melancholic and “defective” police
detectives, (mostly alleged) excessive violence, and (mostly alleged) “Swedish sin”
and sex. All the above factors will now be addressed and explained one by one, before
the article is rounded off with a few concluding remarks about what readers of Nordic
Noir really desire that makes them choose this particular crime fiction.
Since the world-wide success of Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy, most commercial publishers of fiction around the globe have attempted to
“discover” and contract the next Stieg Larsson from among the Nordic crime writers.
This has
meant that international rights to novels by numerous authors have been bought to
an extent that would never have been possible otherwise. The Millenniumʼs success has made publishers more inclined to take their chances with Nordic authors.
This, in turn, has increased the visibility of Nordic crime fiction, and thus made
it more easily accessible to readers, making them buy and read more crime novels from
the region. Readers and publishers both seem to perceive the geographical origin and
the comparisons with Larsson as an emblem of quality. Expressions such as “The next
Stieg Larsson” (Nesbø 2009), “Step aside Stieg Larsson. Holt is the queen of Scandinavian
crime” (Holt), and “Iceland’s answer to Stieg Larsson” (Sigurðardóttir) are commonly
printed on the covers of English translations, thus showing that Larsson
has become a benchmark for the quality of Nordic crime fiction as a whole. Additionally,
just like the publishers, many individual readers also strive be able to “discover”
the next Stieg Larsson among the numerous Nordic crime writers around, before their
friends do and before the (potential) real hype begins for a successor. There is of
course always the risk that readers might feel a bit let down when realizing that
not all Nordic crime writers are as great. However, the risk of being disappointed
is mitigated by the excellent translators often involved, who in many cases actually
end up improving the quality of the Nordic novels. For example, Henning Mankell’s
and Camilla Läckberg’s language, in both cases a quite simple language in the Swedish
originals, often becomes more aesthetically advanced in the English translations by
Laurie Thompson (Mankell), Steven T. Murray (Läckberg), and Tiina Nunnally (Läckberg).
Since Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö published their ten novel police procedural series
Roman om ett brott (1965–75) [The Story of a Crime 1967–76] in the 1960s and 1970s, Scandinavian crime fiction has been known for its
social
and political criticism, and in international scholarship it is often concluded that
Sjöwall and Wahlöö politicized the police procedural genre (cf., Dove 19, 23, 217–24,
240, 242). Over the years, the social criticism aspect has spread to all crime fiction
sub-genres
in the Nordic countries, and although by no means all Nordic crime writers engage
in social and/or political criticism in their novels, this is still a strong critical
current in present day crime fiction from these countries. Since the 1950s, the Nordic
welfare societies have developed a reputation abroad for being a successful middle
way between capitalism and communism, a type of society where the state takes care
of its citizens. People from other parts of the world are often curious—sometimes
even envious—of the Nordic welfare states with their high taxes that provide such
things as free education, free healthcare, and free care for children and the elderly.
Although this is not as true as it used to be, as the welfare systems are currently
in the process of being dismantled, many people abroad still believe things to be
the way they used to be in the past, and they still want to learn more about these
strange societies.
Nordic crime fiction is mostly concerned with realistic depictions of society here
and now, while purely historical crime novels from Scandinavia are relatively rare
(for exceptions, see Agger 89–136). This focus on the present makes Nordic crime fiction an excellent source of insights
into their welfare state systems. It is probably true that crime fiction is one of
the main sources of knowledge about the Nordic countries for a majority of people
around the world and, apart from for example IKEA, crime fiction provides this knowledge
packaged into attractive and easily accessible stories. A large number of the crime
writers apply a critical perspective when portraying these welfare state societies,
examining and interrogating how they really function. International crime fiction
readers thus get the “inside scoop” as they learn about the not-so-perfect aspects
of these welfare states—thereby getting
an upper hand on their friends who still believe everything is fine and dandy in Scandinavia.
The attraction in reading about the welfare states might also be tainted by just a
little hint of schadenfreude, as international readers might take comfort, and perhaps even pleasure, in learning
the fact that “perfect” Scandinavia is not so perfect after all.
As when it comes to fiction readers in general, a majority of readers of most crime
fiction sub-genres are women, and these women naturally desire strong women characters
to identify with. Nordic Noir has numerous women authors—in Sweden between 35 and
40% of the novels published in the 2000s have been written by women (“Topplistor”).
Many of these women writers have brought strong women protagonists into their fiction—such
as Liza Marklund’s Annika Bengtzon, Leena Lehtolainen’s Maia Kallio, Elsebeth Egholm’s
Dicte Svensen, Yrsa Sigurðardóttir’s Þóra Guðmundsdóttir, and Anne Holt’s Hanne Wilhelmsen—,
but there are also many tough women protagonists in crime novels by male Nordic authors,
for example Stieg Larsson’s Lisbeth Salander or Arnaldur Indriðason’s Elínborg.
Internationally, the Nordic countries are known for their gender equality, and reading
about women who combine career and family or men who take parental leave, cook for
their family, and clean the house is also part of the Nordic Noir attraction for women
readers from other countries. Even though most Nordic readers still find crime fiction
of their countries to be dominated by gender stereotypes and outdated gender roles—and
know that their countries still have a long way to go in terms of gender equality—,
to international readers much of this still seems progressive and thus contributes
to the attractiveness of Nordic Noir.
Nordic literature has a long and strong tradition of portraying nature and landscape,
and this is something that has also found its way into crime fiction from the different
regions. Typical of this is how Henning Mankell in his Wallander novels so often uses
descriptions of the weather in order to illustrate how his characters feel and how
the investigations are progressing, or the way Mons Kallentoft lets the seasons play
an important part in his novels and inscribes nature with an essentially innate evil,
or how Åsa Larsson makes her characters have an almost symbiotic relationship with
the landscape of the far north where her novels are set. Nordic crime writers in general
tend to dedicate a lot of focus and space to setting, often to a far greater extent
than their international colleagues do (Lundin 8).
It is probably true that few international readers have actually visited the Nordic
countries, but they often picture the large and sparsely populated landscapes of the
north as something exotic; a land with its extensive forests, deep lakes, and wide
mountain tracts—where wolves, moose, reindeer, and perhaps even polar bears roam—seems
far removed from the densely populated urban areas of many countries, with their considerably
larger populations in relation to geographical size. Contributing to the exoticism
are also the long, cold, and dark winters and the summers with almost eternally long
days and the midnight sun. This might appear almost as a fairy-tale setting, in which
people with strange habits and traditions live in colourful little houses, people
who with hedonistic rites celebrate midsummer, and then in almost Ku Klux Klan-like
white robes and with burning candles celebrate the darkest time of the year.
Nordic nature and landscape are also emphasized and exaggerated in both book covers
and in how they are received as the Nordic novels migrate abroad. It is the exotic
and foreign that is expected to generate desire in readers (and viewers), a dream
of a different place, one that is spacious and open. Natural elements and scenery
are also extensively used in order to symbolize the Nordic countries and a Nordic
identity. The promotional shots from BBC’s televised Wallander series constitute a
particularly illustrative example, dominated as they are by Swedish rapeseed fields
against clear skies in vibrating yellow and blue, colours reminiscent of the Swedish
flag, thus stressing that this is something very different from your generic British
crime series.
Since its beginnings in the 19th century (Bergman 2014, 152–53), the Nordic crime
fiction traditions have always been inspired by British and American
predecessors and crime fiction sub-genres. This makes the Nordic novels easily recognizable
and accessible for international audiences. The recognition of genre conventions softens
any cultural clashes, makes the differences between the legal systems seem less confusing,
and makes any allusions and/or references to crime fiction tradition recognizable
and familiar. This creates a perfect balance between the exotic and unaccustomed,
on the one hand, and the comfortable and familiar, on the other hand. It makes readers
feel safe while exploring the foreign Nordic otherness. An important reason behind
the success of Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy is the creative way in which he incorporated numerous crime fiction sub-genres
and crime fiction references into his work (Bergman 2013a, 110, 115–16).
Finally, a few more factors involved in making Nordic Noir attractive to international
readers should be briefly mentioned. One such factor is the melancholic and “defective”
police detective, who has been around since Sjöwall and Wahlöö’s Martin Beck character.
At first glance, these Nordic detectives might not seem too different from Colin Dexter’s
British Chief Inspector Morse or Michael Connelly’s American Harry Bosch, but when
taking a closer look it becomes clear that the Nordic detectives generally tend to
be more fallible. They have more problems with their bodies and bodily functions,
they doubt their abilities to a greater extent, and they make more mistakes. This
makes them seem more human than many of their international counterparts, and, in
turn, perhaps more loveable. Additionally, the detective’s failing body is one of
the most common symbols of the disintegrating welfare society, particularly in Swedish
crime fiction—from Martin Beck’s colds, flus, and depressions to Kurt Wallander’s
stomach problems, diabetes, and Alzheimer’s disease.
Nordic Noir has also, as initially mentioned, developed a reputation for being excessively
violent. Violence is an important part of the entertainment industry today and something
that people enjoy exploring in the safe manner of reading a book or watching a movie.
Even though it is untrue that Nordic Noir is more violent than any other form of crime
fiction—of course there are some very violent examples from Scandinavia too, but they
tend to be exceptions—this is something that makes many readers curious; they want
to see if it is really true and, if so, what that would be like.
The Nordic countries, and Sweden in particular, also have a reputation for liberal
attitudes towards sex—who has not heard about “Swedish sin”? It is a well-established
truth that sex sells, or rather, in this case, the expectation
of sex sells. Even though sex might be less of a taboo subject in the Nordic countries
than perhaps in countries where religion still plays a more important role in society,
it is hardly true that Scandinavians have more sex or are more promiscuous than people
in the world in general. Nor is it true that crime fiction from the region contains
more sex than other crime fiction. However, in the last 15 years, there has been a
stronger focus on the personal relationships and love lives of the detective characters
in Nordic crime fiction than there used to be. Whether this has brought more explicit
depictions of sex into the fiction is unclear, but it has probably brought more healthy
and non-criminalized sex into these books—some of it explicit, but most of it rather
in-between chapters and out of sight of the reader. Still many foreign readers approach
Nordic Noir with an expectation of sex, something that contributes to its attractiveness.