Venturing into Nordic noir, or Snøballkrim as I refer to it in Norwegian, I wasn’t prepared for the well-worn knitwear of stereotypes within. Since the solstice, this bleak Jadis’ winter mixed with brutal overtones has provided me with light entertainment and a list of things to avoid if I ever write more crime fiction.
- The main character – investigator, detective, police person – is a hothead in a life crisis. It’s often work-related, so they cope by burying themselves in more work. Divorced because they work too much; work more. Suspended because they messed up at work; continue to work. Colleagues got wounded because someone didn’t follow procedure; continue to run headfirst into every situation. Cannot be a decent parent; compensate by spending all time and energy on solving a case.
- Continuing in that vein, committing child neglect and ruining a marriage can be forgiven if the detective solves the case, even if it takes years, and the kids are no longer kids. Nothing screams deadbeat parent more than putting off connecting with your kids until they can drink with you.
- If they’re going to solve the case, the investigator cannot work regular office hours. Office overtime doesn’t come with the lights on or the social skills to stop calling the partner in the middle of the night.
- The new and pretty coworker is the voice of reason; after a while, they will become the world’s greatest partner, a romantic interest or both. They also have a past of sorts. To be revealed later. They have to be established as the only likeable character in the entire story before going into how they learned to live. The friction between the sidekick and the main character is obligatory. It’s also recognisable for anyone who has ever been so annoyed by someone to the degree where it flipped into strong infatuation. The mutual attraction between the two emotionally unavailable people can be accelerated by a bit of shared alcohol. Then they can drink until they can pretend nothing happened. And every interaction will continue like it’s a third date. Until they eventually break it off.
- The chief, and some other colleagues without personality, work against the main charater and the sidekick. In fact, most other investigators are useless; it’s only the main character and their partner who can solve the case. It’s a competitive environment where everyone is personally invested. Some put pride in closing cases, others in solving them. The two types shout at each other. They are their job. It’s their entire identity. Otherwise, most of them would just be drunks.
- The medical examiner has to eat in the autopsy room. No one else in the entire story consumes any food, but there will be an entire charcuterie board next to a dead body. Crumbs and olives rolling into the Y incision. A quiet setting that screams how relaxed everyone is about it all, except the sidekick, who gets sick.
- Puffer jackets are the Nordic Columbo coats. Expedition-style garments that put the Nordic in Nordic noir. They have to be worn in the car, even if it’s a traffic hazard, even if the car is modern, even if they’re sweating their eyebrows off and proceed to freeze their tits off when they go outside.
- Everyone has to be bad at communication. Telling others where you are going and what you are thinking could solve the case faster and keep people out of trouble. But that would make a boring story. This makes mobile phones a big problem too. Luckily, they either go off or stop working at the most inconvenient times. Sometimes it seems people forget that they exist. Flashlights, too, while we’re at it. How are people expected to hide in dark corners if there are no dark corners.
- The investigator can solve the case by having an Ace Ventura-style epiphany. Looking at a random newspaper or a kid’s disturbing drawing that has managed to capture something the forensic sketch artist could only dream of.
- Next of kin smell the victim’s clothes while collapsing on a bed. They, too, have an alcohol-based coping mechanism. That’s as deep as their depiction goes; any more and it’s a sign they are involved or just guilty.
- The culprit is the person you think it is. It’s either someone close to the victim, someone from their distant past or someone in the police. If it’s the latter, the higher-ups are likely involved and have worked against the investigation the entire time.
Watching these is still interesting for the most part. Sometimes there’s a gold nugget in there. And I think it’s possible to write stories where the investigator has their life on track, even lives a healthy one. Where they cope with their demons, communicate and still solve cases. A character can be interesting without mistaking brown liquor for darkness within.
Here’s to finding the creekside killer.