As I seem to be on a quest for ever more and better crime, I was really pleased before Christmas to see a BBC Four documentary called Nordic Noir, which tipped me off about some previously unknown Scandinavian crime novelists. Having been rollicking around Sweden with Wallander and Salander I thought I'd venture further north, and I liked the fact that Don't Look Back promised to take me up to Norway. So I packed up my snowboots and my woolly jumpers and off I went -- but then I found I didn't really need them. What I'm trying to convey by this rather overstretched metaphor is that, enjoyable though this novel may have been, the fact that it took place in Norway was almost incidental. Yes, the characters and places have nordic names, and people eat what to me were rather unfamiliar foods (heart-shaped waffles figure quite prominently) but this is not a novel which really explores either the country or its zeitgeist. That doesn't make it a bad book, of course. It is in fact rather a charming and gentle sort of crime novel, if that doesn't sound like a contradiction in terms. The plot centres on the discovery of the body of a young woman beside a remote mountain tarn. When it becomes clear that she has been killed, Inspector Sejer is called in to investigate. This is a small country community, everyone knows everyone else, and at first there seems to be no clear motive for this crime. As time goes on, of course, secrets are uncovered and relationships start to reveal unsuspected cracks. A pretty conventional and traditional police procedural, in fact. So -- I did enjoy it, but I'm not racing out to buy another Karin Fossum, though I'd probably pick one up if I happened to spot it in the library.
