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Lotta Olsson tips: 5 new mystery novel

What is it really that distinguishes a good detective story from a bad one? A friend asks: he has just read Niklas Night and Day praised ”1793”. It is a book that divides readers into two camps, and I usually say to people that it is really good, but... ährrm... just very scary. It is extremely bloody.

I thought of the ”1793”, my friend did not. It is hardly a question of quality it's all about how much violence you can accept. For my part, it was not violence that was the most difficult, without despair. It was a bleak story, about people who lived in a difficult time, and had little opportunity to create a life that was even bearable.

in a book? For me it is rarely våldsskildringarna, but the keynote address. Many of us who read crime fiction want to have the optimism, the feeling that it is possible to bring order out of chaos and to the rule of law prevails. Others would rather have confirmation of the opposite: that society does not always succeed in solving its problems and put the real crooks in jail.

It would of course be easier if the amount of blood was always related to the quality, so that it was just a bad writer who poured out the blood of litres and litres. But Val McDermids most bloodiest books (”the Mermaid sang his song” and ”Below inveterate scars”) is among the best in the genre.

Våldsnivån is not related to the voltage, which you would think. Just as in the skräcklitteraturen succeed some writers build up the tension without violence, only by giving space to the reader's imagination. Read, for example, Dorothy Sayers classic ”Kamratfesten” from 1934, or Kristina ohlsson's ”Paradisoffer”. The threat of violence can be so much more effective than actual violence.

actually, a good detective story from a bad one? You can think about languages, the arts, personal description and all the other ingredients.

Sure, they are important. But basically it is something completely intangible that determines. Either occurs the magic, or does not have it.

And in detectives, it is never the violence that is the bearer of magic, which is rather too much violence, a problem for many readers.

I tell quite often about Magnus Montelius first book, ”the Man from Albania”, who came eight years ago on a very small publisher, Herds publishing. The publisher called me one Friday afternoon and sounded like mr Omar Ture Sventonböckerna, helplessly friendly. If only I could look at the book? I growled: do you know how many people ask? How would I catch?

Then relent, I would just take a little look in the book and could not stop. Other reviewers have said the same thing, for Magnus Montelius was the one where the drömförfattaren which appeared from nowhere and was so good to breathtaking.

Now, eight years later, he's coming out with his second book, and have moved over to one of the big publishers (so it is always, unfortunately - succéförfattarna bought up by the big publishers).

the Subtitle is ”A novel about the power of”, and the book takes place in and around the state Department. A foreign minister has had to resign after he was exposed as clients of a freelance journalist. A new minister is appointed, and his press secretary will be, surprisingly enough, just the investigative reporter.

There are few who manage to tell you about the policy so that it becomes exciting. Danish Hanne-Vibeke Holst may, but political thrillers tend otherwise to be incomprehensible woody.

In the ”Eight months” committed a murder, though the violence is far from the reader. Yet the mood quickly eerie on the old-fashioned Hitchcockmanér, with a growing sense of unease, that something is happening behind the scenes. Someone pulls in the threads, but to understand who. Pressekreteraren is the main character, trettiofemåriga Nina thinks she's finally getting the chance to show what she can after having pulled out on temporary assignments through the years.

It is incredibly elegantly told, with small, almost invisible events that screws up the voltage to the outhärdligas limit. This was a andrabok worth the wait.

In a small village in the county of Halland all know each other. All know which ones are reliable and which ones are not: a man was convicted for the murder of his girlfriend and it was not so strange, it was one of those people.

the Man who was convicted has a nephew, little Isaac, who grows up in slagskuggan after the murder, with the village's eyes on her. It is perhaps in the family? Isaac the wonder itself.

In the village there is also Vidar Jörgensson, who is a police sergeant during the investigation of the murder and who will still live in the village with his family. He doesn't stop thinking: was it really Edward who was the killer?

Christoffer Carlsson, who is one of the most active crime writer, let the grief be as an undertone throughout the book. Life becomes as it gets, you don't understand until it is too late that maybe they should have chosen differently. Perhaps even had been able to.

Drive in theater outside of the small american town of Promise Falls has been open for the last evening ever, when the screen suddenly plummets down over the cars standing in front. Four people die, and of one of the victims is a break-in shortly after.

It is the Promise Falls who is the main character in the understated, exciting trilogy, where the first part came last year, and is called ”Betrayal”. Linwood Barclay tells us a little bit in the same way that Stephen King, with very skamfilad everyday life and little miniporträtt. Where are the old cops who struggle with their weight and their relationship to the adult son, where are the unemployed journalist, who has become press secretary for an unscrupulous politicians (which seems very, shall we say samtidsamerikansk?), and there is a little girl with aspergerdrag who draws comics on any paper she can find.

Ella and Molly are political activists, neighbours and friends, despite the age difference. Molly belongs to the older generation of activists, and is immediately prepared to help Ella when she happens to get a corpse on the neck.

Eva Dolan has written four talented detective story about hatbrottsenheten in Peterborough, and this is her first stand-alone. Unfortunately, the results are not really successful, perhaps because of the complex design. The story switches between the two protagonists, but also chronologically between now and then - to the events that led to and told dåtidsperspektivet backwards. It took a while before I realized that it was not I who was the forgetful, but it constantly referred to events that would not be told until later.

a Pity, for it recalls also a little about Doris lessing's ”The fifth truth” and ”The good terrorist”, in deckarform.

It is very nice that he at least tries to resist liquor and drugs now, the police, Aidan Waits as drällde around in Manchester's darkest blocks in last year's ”Sirens”. Now, he fights back, working the night shift with a really dull fellow who likes to see when it goes to the forest for the people, but preferably not lifting a finger more than necessary.

the Real hard-boiled deppdeckare, that is. But even I, who normally keeps me away from that part of the genre, caught up, fascinated, to the mood reminds a bit of the movie ”Blade runner”, or Jo nesbø's ”Macbeth”. Dreary small clubs with hungry middle-aged men who pick up young women, a large, abandoned hotel where a corpse, with ghastly smile, is sitting. A resigned police officer who still tries to deliver justice for the weakest.

Above all, it is the style: Joseph Knox writes surprisingly healthy.

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