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A review by monty_reads
Rupture by Ragnar Jónasson
3.0
3.5 stars.
Is an “Ari Thór Thriller” really an “Ari Thór Thriller” if Ari Thór only shows up for roughly half the book (thrilling though it might be)?
That the central dilemma of Ragnar Jónasson’s Dark Iceland series is one of branding is actually a good problem to have. Because here’s the thing: for two books now, it would be more appropriate to subtitle them “An Ari Thór and Ísrún Thriller.” The fact that the male police officer gets top billing over his female journalist counterpart is just another reason to topple the patriarchy.
I’m only being partially facetious, and it’s mainly to give credit to Jónasson’s deft hand with characterization. While Ari Thór, the cop at the center of this series of mysteries, is a fun character – compelling in his straitlaced, curmudgeonly attention to detail – it’s Ísrún’s sarcasm and rebellious ambition in the face of a male-dominated TV news culture that gives the series its spark.
In Rupture, the third in the series, Ari Thór and Ísrún are once again investigating separate cases. He’s trying to track down the truth behind a mysterious poisoning that occurred in the 1950s, while she’s looking into the connection between a child’s kidnapping and the hit and run death of the son of a prominent Icelandic politician.
While the cases don’t have much to do with each other – and, to be fair, they don’t really intersect at all – they act in some ways as three complementary mirror images (if such a thing is even possible and not some dumb physics thing I just made up). Jónasson is exploring how the sins of the past continue to reverberate in the present. That’s certainly not a new theme, but set against the backdrop of the Icelandic culture and pretty seamlessly alternating between the different storylines, he makes it SEEM new.
I know Jónasson’s not a household name. But if you’re a fan of traditional mysteries, where the emphasis is more on mental than physical exertion (think Agatha Christie or Arthur Conan Doyle), I think you’ll agree he should be.
Is an “Ari Thór Thriller” really an “Ari Thór Thriller” if Ari Thór only shows up for roughly half the book (thrilling though it might be)?
That the central dilemma of Ragnar Jónasson’s Dark Iceland series is one of branding is actually a good problem to have. Because here’s the thing: for two books now, it would be more appropriate to subtitle them “An Ari Thór and Ísrún Thriller.” The fact that the male police officer gets top billing over his female journalist counterpart is just another reason to topple the patriarchy.
I’m only being partially facetious, and it’s mainly to give credit to Jónasson’s deft hand with characterization. While Ari Thór, the cop at the center of this series of mysteries, is a fun character – compelling in his straitlaced, curmudgeonly attention to detail – it’s Ísrún’s sarcasm and rebellious ambition in the face of a male-dominated TV news culture that gives the series its spark.
In Rupture, the third in the series, Ari Thór and Ísrún are once again investigating separate cases. He’s trying to track down the truth behind a mysterious poisoning that occurred in the 1950s, while she’s looking into the connection between a child’s kidnapping and the hit and run death of the son of a prominent Icelandic politician.
While the cases don’t have much to do with each other – and, to be fair, they don’t really intersect at all – they act in some ways as three complementary mirror images (if such a thing is even possible and not some dumb physics thing I just made up). Jónasson is exploring how the sins of the past continue to reverberate in the present. That’s certainly not a new theme, but set against the backdrop of the Icelandic culture and pretty seamlessly alternating between the different storylines, he makes it SEEM new.
I know Jónasson’s not a household name. But if you’re a fan of traditional mysteries, where the emphasis is more on mental than physical exertion (think Agatha Christie or Arthur Conan Doyle), I think you’ll agree he should be.