The story starts in Iceland in 1956, when Lára, a fifteen-year-old girl from Reykjavík takes a job as a housekeeper for the summer at the cabin of a young professional couple on the island of Videy, off the coast of Reykjavík.
When Lára disappears one day without a trace, her employers claim innocence and say that she just quit and left. The investigation goes nowhere, but the policeman who initially investigated the disappearance remains haunted by the case for decades.
In 1986, a young journalist named Valur Robertsson takes up the case and decides to dig deeper than anyone before. This was during the summer when the city of Reykjavík celebrated its 200th anniversary, and when the famous summit of Reagan and Gorbachev in Iceland took place. Valur gets close to solving the case, when we learn that somebody is desperate to keep the truth from coming out.
Reykjavík is a Who Dunnit story in the tradition of Agatha Christie. It so turns out that one of the co-authors, Ragnar Jónasson, started his writing career when he was still a teenager translating Agatha Christie novels into Icelandic.
As in any Who Dunnit story, I kept with it, turning the pages, but I never really got into the writing. The entire novel reads like a newspaper article. The book is 95% exposition, with very little dialog and not much action. When there is action, it often does not move the story along and there are many interactions between characters that are there for no reason but to fill pages.
I kept having the feeling that the author does not really know how journalism or police investigations work. The descriptions seem very much on the surface, like my writing would be if I were to describe action in a hospital emergency room, an environment I know nothing about. It would seem very superficial, and any medical professional would know immediately that I don’t know what I am talking about.
Overall, Reykjavík is not a pleasant read. The only reason I kept going was to find out Who Dunnit and my commitment to myself to try, really try, to finish every book I start.
Having recently been in Reykjavík, I enjoyed reading about the locales as they were forty years ago. That was the primary reason for me to pick up the book in the first place.
I don’t think I’ll read any more of Jónasson’s novels.
















