Although Edwardson has been on my list of Scandinavian crime authors to read for some time, I had previously put off reading any of his novels because they had been described as rather stringent procedurals, and as a rule, I am not a huge fan of this genre. I understand that meticulous investigations--with their red herrings and dead-end leads and countless interviews with doddering old women who may have seen something relevant to a crime but really just want to serve the dashing inspector biscuits and coffee and have some company for a short time--are some readers’ cups of tea. For myself, however, I’m not really invested in the process so much. I generally like the varied dynamics of a police force that you get in a procedural, but that enjoyment doesn’t really outweigh the sense of stagnation that sometimes comes over me in the midst of one of these novels.I’ll admit: I like plot. And while this is a literary element that may be somewhat out of vogue in contemporary ‘literary’ fiction, it is (generally) still highly valued in crime novels. So while I appreciate the pleasure that one might take out of reading the intricate, but often dull or frustrating quotidian burdens of a police investigation, I usually prefer that the crime novels I ready eschew that sort of realism in favor of some broader character development, more back story, and/or steadily escalating tension.All this preamble is to say that I have just finished, and very much enjoyed, Sun and Shadow, the first of Edwardson’s Erik Winter novels to be translated into English (although it wasn’t the first in the series). What is somewhat perplexing to me--and apologies, because this probably won’t end up being the best of sells for this book--is that Edwardson utilizes a number of tricks which I would normally really dislike in a novel. But somehow, even when all of these strategies--and dare I say, cheats--are combined (and I’ll get to this more momentarily), the end product is still a really enjoyable, well-paced, strongly characterized novel which I pretty much gobbled up in a few short days.To start with the good:Winter is a great character. He’s reasonably quirky--loves jazz and gourmet cooking (there’s several whole pages where he describes, in recipe-level detail, the meal he makes on New Year’s) --and we’re told early on that he’s Sweden’s youngest chief detective inspector. As the book opens (days before the new millennium), however, he is about to turn 40 and is starting to feel a bit introspective about his life. This is emphasized by the ample family subplot that Edwardson builds around Winter: when the book opens, his father is dying and his longtime girlfriend--who is six months pregnant with his first child--is moving in with him.Edwardson really takes his time with this domestic development. In fact, although the reader knows right from the start of the book that there has been a double murder, the police don’t discover it until just over 100 pages into the book. The fact that such an elongated reveal works in a crime novel really speaks to how engaging Winter and the other detectives and characters are. You want to spend time with them and become immersed in their lives, rather than just jumping into the investigation.Anther especially good element is the pacing. I’ve rarely gotten to the very end of a procedural and actually felt a great deal of anticipation to see the case resolved. That feeling that the police are so close! to cracking the case doesn’t usually catch with me. But here, Edwardson manages to develop suspense and build tension because the reader has spent 200 pages or so suspecting that they know who the murderer is. (I didn’t guess the right person, but I was pretty close...) So while the police investigation continues to narrow its suspects and get closer and closer to determining who the killer is, their tangential investigations and incorrect suppositions are all the more nail-biting for the reader. Now for the elements that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow, really did.1. Edwardson has a tendency to avoid grim/disturbing/or otherwise particularly visual detail. In some cases, this is almost Hitchcockian--we’re chilled by what we can’t see, what we don’t really know. In others, it’s a little disorienting and maybe suggests a tad bit of squeamishness/avoidance on Edwardson’s part. I don’t want to give too much away, but let me say this: the police discover the first murders around page 100. We know something terrible happened to the victims, and they (the corpses) are described a little. But Edwardson holds the real punch--the actual ‘what’ of the murders--for about 60 more pages. And when you find out what was done, it is an unexpected jolt. But given the circumstances, I was glad to not have had the scene f the crime described in all of its sordid detail--that would have been a little much.This withholding of details and descriptions happens in a few other notable instances, some to lesser effect. The least successful example happens at the end of the book. A major character is kidnapped--for days. The whole time chronology suddenly compresses, Winter figures out where she is, and the whole book is wrapped up neat ‘n tidy within about five pages. We’re told that the woman “wasn’t hurt physically,” which, great, but because the book ends so quickly, Edwardson also dodges the difficulty of writing the psychological fall out that the kidnapping victim would most definitely have after such an abduction. We’re simply told that “...one of these days it would all come back to her, but not now...Perhaps never.” Which just seems way too easy. It’s possible--given that the Winter series seems to carry over plot lines and character history from book to book--that this character’s recovery will be dealt with in a later novel. But that doesn’t mean that you can just nip the entire experience in this installment.2. The novel really depends on a bit of a red herring/ bait-and-switch. About a quarter of the way into the book, I had made a guess of who the murderer was. About half way through the book, Edwardson begins really telegraphing this character as the killer. A few other characters also seem like they might have some potential as the killer, but there’s really one who Edwardson focuses on. And while this may seem too obvious, it also plays into the general sense of tension. You start to think that you’re supposed to have guessed who the killer is, and stop minding that it seems obvious.The problem is that when the character you suspect turns out to be innocent, there’s not a whole lot done to explain the actual killer’s motivations or background or particular psychosis. There’s a lot of groundwork done early on to explain the killer’s possible frame of mind and why he might choose to commit the murders in the way that he does. This makes sense when you think it’s character A who is the killer, but when character B is revealed, it really doesn’t. Neither does the manner in which he selected his victims, or the messages that he left the cops at the crime scene, or the supposed clues that were to be found in the music that was playing at the scene of the first crime.3. All too convenient endangerment of major character and collision of plot and subplot. The character who is the almost-last victim is far too obvious, far too relevant to Winter’s life. It’s too convenient, really. However, Edwardson even makes this work. He develops the character as a possible person of interest to the murderer and does offer something of an explanation of why she was targeted. Now, she has nothing in common with the other victims and her kidnapping really just serves to ramp the novel’s climax up to a more dramatic level, but I pretty much bought into it at the end. Because again, I was really invested in seeing this case resolved.In closing, I suppose I would say that Edwardson’s ample gifts of characterization, steady pacing, and satisfyingly determined plot are what make Sun and Shadow a satisfying read. I suppose it’s something like reading an Agatha Christie novel. You know that she’s not playing by the ‘rules’--you know you don’t have all the clues that the detective does, and you know that things are going to resolve themselves rather easily, and you know that all of the clues and plot points might not add up. But the execution (no pun intended) is so fluid and meticulous that you don’t really mind so much in the end.
A policeman with relationship problems? No. Does he have a drinking problem? No. Any existential crisis? Not really, unless you consider the adjustment period when two people decide to get together to be a existential or relationship crisis. Ake Edwardson's ErikWinter does not check many of the standard tropes of the main protagonist of a police procedural and that itself is a refreshing change and gives him a head start over his other contemporaries who are busy solving crimes. Oh yes, there are references to the type of music that Erik likes and so it is not as if Edwardson is striving to make Erik completely different from other fictional policemen.'Sun and Shadow' sees Erik Winter getting ready for his girlfriend to move in with him. He is also awaiting their first child. He has to juggle changes to his personal life with a series of murders of couples who don't seem to have been related to each other in any way. Edwardson takes his time setting up the story which is interleaved with Erik's personal life, his professional interactions. The motive for the crimes is hinted at the very beginning and can be guessed quite easily. It is also clear by the middle of the novel that the case is going to hit close to home for Erik. Edwardson though, throws up a unexpected twist at the end regarding the identity of the perpetrator. The ending too is totally 'Scandinavian' in the sense that there are no bangs or frills, just a seriously dangerous situation handled in a matter of fact manner. Edwardson has a narrative style which is not loud or too violent, which makes even the more violent crimes a bit more palatable. You don't get the feeling of being rushed headlong towards the end, it is a more logical progression of being carried by the natural flow of investigation towards it. Edwardson nearly loses it though while going into great detail about sub-plot concerning Winter's parents. I get that Edwardson is trying to create a specific universe for Winter so that he feels more real and the reader more close to him, but the digression becomes too long, (nearly 1/4th of a 400 plus page novel) where the rewards do not match the effort put in it. Having read his 'Frozen Tracks', it seems that these digressions are a pattern with him, where he nearly loses track of the main story line. Notwithstanding these digressions, and if you dig the placidity (which as mentioned earlier is very natural) of the narrative this is a series worth your time.
Do You like book Sun And Shadow (2006)?
This mystery is slow to start and for the most part I felt like there were too many plot devices being used. For example, the protagonist, Erik Winter, begins the book having to fly to Spain to be with his dying father, leaving his pregnant girl friend behind who is moving into his apartment. While in Spain another plot complication develops. And none of it really has anything to do with the mystery. The mystery portion starts too late in the book. There is too much evidence that apparently points in the wrong direction and then there is an extraneous plot line involving another police officer and a developing health problem that may or may not be included to make you think he might be somehow involved. Not even closed to being on par with Henning Mankell who remains the best Swedish mystery writer (wish he would stick to mysteries and forget about his forays into other areas of fiction).
—Ted
Erik Winter is the youngest chief inspector in Sweden. He's quite the snappy dresser, an intuitive if slightly moody cop, consumed with his job and with his very pregnant girlfriend. When his father has a massive heart attack in Spain, he is pulled away from his job to spend a little time with him before he dies. His time in Spain is very conflicted, a completely different culture and experience which his parents have embraced totally, away from his girlfriend and his job, he's lost and uncomfortable. When he returns, a particularly gruesome double murder, almost on his doorstep drags Winter and his team into the cult world of Gothic music and ultimately, adult games.At the same time, his girlfriend has moved in and they are preparing for the birth of their baby when anonymous phone calls and strange noises outside their apartment late at night start to worry both of them.This is an intricate, complicated, layered book which builds slowly to an intense and rapid conclusion. There are many contrasts between the characters in the book, with a rich cast of supporting characters - both from the police and Winter's own family, as well as witnesses that are drawn into the story as the investigation proceeds.Classic Scandinavian crime fiction, well-paced, textured, thoughtful and compelling.
—Karen
This is low key. People who want fast action and a lot of heightened tension will probably not like this. I found it had its own pace, but I couldn't wait to pick it up and read more. The characters grew on me, and I kinda got where he was going with who the bad guy was from the beginning, but wasn't sure who it was. There were some clever red herrings. My only complaint was sometimes he didn't state something and I wasn't sure why. There were things left out that seemed unnecessarily oblique. Other than that, I liked it. Better writing than Larsson and good sense of Gothenburg, which I've actually been to and liked as a city.
—Joyce
