Book Review: THE GIRL WHO DIED by Ragnar Jonasson

THE GIRL WHO DIED by Ragnar Jonasson 

Minotaur Books; 5/4/21

CBTB Rating: 4.5/5

The Verdict: must-read suspense for fans of Nordic crime and “supernatural-ish” stories

Icelandic crime writer Ragnar Jonasson has been a staple of Crime by the Book ever since I started this blog, and this coming week, Ragnar’s first-ever standalone novel will be published here in the US. THE GIRL WHO DIED is a significant departure for an author who has built an international brand on his classic-crime-inspired detective novels; now, in his newest release, Ragnar sets his sights on a story of psychological suspense that dabbles in the possibly-supernatural. In THE GIRL WHO DIED, readers follow a young woman who accepts a teaching position in a very remote Icelandic village, only to discover that she has unwittingly moved into a community that is even more insular and sinister than she could ever have imagined. Fans of Ragnar’s previous releases will recognize in his newest novel his elegant and subtle writing, and his masterful ability to paint a vivid picture of Iceland’s landscape and atmosphere; readers of Ragnar’s work both new and old will fall under the hypnotic spell of his most chilling story yet in THE GIRL WHO DIED. Though not a traditional Nordic Noir novel, THE GIRL WHO DIED nevertheless holds significant appeal for fans of the Scandinavian crime tradition, and will also appeal to readers who love suspense tinged with the supernatural, and crime stories set in small towns. Pick up THE GIRL WHO DIED for a brooding, slow-burning, haunting tale of suspense. 

Plot Details: 

Teacher Wanted At the Edge of the World

Una wants nothing more than to teach, but she has been unable to secure steady employment in Reykjavík. Her savings are depleted, her love life is nonexistent, and she cannot face another winter staring at the four walls of her shabby apartment. Celebrating Christmas and ringing in 1986 in the remote fishing hamlet of Skálar seems like a small price to pay for a chance to earn some teaching credentials and get her life back on track.

But Skálar isn’t just one of Iceland’s most isolated villages, it is home to just ten people. Una’s only students are two girls aged seven and nine. Teaching them only occupies so many hours in a day and the few adults she interacts with are civil but distant. She only seems to connect with Thór, a man she shares an attraction with but who is determined to keep her at arm’s length.

As darkness descends throughout the bleak winter, Una finds herself more often than not in her rented attic space―the site of a local legendary haunting―drinking her loneliness away. She is plagued by nightmares of a little girl in a white dress singing a lullaby. And when a sudden tragedy echoes an event long buried in Skálar’s past, the villagers become even more guarded, leaving a suspicious Una seeking to uncover a shocking truth that’s been kept secret for generations.

If ever there were a perfect setting for a creepy crime story, it would be Skálar, the remote, isolated village that provides the backdrop for Ragnar Jonasson’s newest work of suspense. As best I can tell, the ghost town of Skálar is a real place on Iceland’s Langanes Peninsula, and Ragnar makes brilliant use of its remote and isolated setting in his new novel. In THE GIRL WHO DIED, the village of Skálar is not fully abandoned, but its population has dwindled to a mere 10 residents at the time that Una, our story’s protagonist, first arrives. Una is a city girl, born and raised in Reykjavik, and nothing in her past has prepared her for the realities of life in a village as isolated and desolate as Skálar. This tiny village, comprised primarily of a few homes, a small general store, a church, and an old farm, is the polar opposite of Reykjavik’s hustle and bustle, and it makes for the perfect claustrophobic setting for this haunting and chilling story of suspense. Ragnar Jonasson has always brilliantly made use of Iceland’s weather and landscape to enhance the tension and raise the stakes in his crime novels, and he does exactly that with Skálar’s remote location and desolate terrain in THE GIRL WHO DIED. Readers will be able to feel the chill from Skálar’s winter weather seeping into their bones as they read; they will find themselves transported to the barren and vast expanse of remote Iceland alongside Una, and will experience firsthand the sense of isolation and claustrophobia that she begins to experience as she realizes just how utterly alone—and at the mercy of her new neighbors—she really is. Readers who love stories of small-town suspense driven by sense of place and sinister atmosphere will love the bone-chilling world that Ragnar crafts in THE GIRL WHO DIED. 

As Una settles into her life in Skálar, she is faced not only with the realization of her own isolation and vulnerability, but, moreover, by the realization that her new neighbors are not to be trusted. In THE GIRL WHO DIED, Ragnar invites readers into the inner workings of a community that has very good reasons not to want to welcome newcomers into its midst—all of which will be revealed by the story’s end. THE GIRL WHO DIED is a suspense story with a limited cast of characters, and Ragnar makes great use of this opportunity to allow readers an intimate glimpse into the lives of this limited cast. Una, our story’s protagonist, is naturally the character readers get to know best, but Ragnar also fills this book’s pages with vividly-drawn women and men who leap off the page, no matter how brief their “screen time” in this story is. Readers get to know Salka, the woman with whom Una is staying during her time in Skálar; they get to know Salka’s charming daughter, Edda, and Una’s other pupil, Kolbrun, the daughter of a neighboring couple whose marriage seems shaky at best, toxic at worst. Readers witness Una trying to navigate the unspoken social rules and politics of this strange and insular community, and will feel a palpable sense of unease and dread as Una is drawn ever-closer to uncovering the dark secrets that this community is hiding. While THE GIRL WHO DIED isn’t necessarily a character-driven story (I would consider this story more atmosphere-driven, if that is a category that exists!), readers will nevertheless love the front-row seat that Ragnar Jonasson grants them to the odd and sinister inner workings of the Skálar community. 

Unlike Ragnar Jonasson’s previous works of crime fiction, which fell into the police procedural category, THE GIRL WHO DIED falls into a genre that I like to consider “supernatural-ish.” This sinister suspense novel toes the line between this world and the next, weaving elements of the otherworldly into its already-chilling plot. THE GIRL WHO DIED is not a story driven by the supernatural; rather, it is a story in which hints of something possibly-supernatural taking place enhance the book’s creepy and sinister atmosphere. As Una spends more and more time in the village of Skálar, she finds herself plagued by terrifying nightmares of a little girl in a white dress, singing a haunting lullaby. As visions of this little girl begin to haunt her waking hours, too, Una begins to wonder if the old house in which she is staying could ever actually be haunted by a ghost of a little girl… or if the isolation of her new home is just messing with her head. The result is a haunting, spine-tingling story that effectively delivers hints of the possibly-supernatural without distracting from its very real, very earthly suspense. Readers who love “supernatural-ish” suspense novels—stories that weave touches of something otherworldly into their otherwise realistic suspense plots—will find much to love in the delicate and subtle way Ragnar Jonasson crafts this story’s supernatural elements. 

THE GIRL WHO DIED is not a traditional Nordic mystery novel, though it does deliver many mysterious events and burning questions that will keep readers hooked. Among the many questions to be answered before this story’s end: what secret are the residents of Skálar keeping from Una? Is Una’s new home really haunted, and if so, who is the little girl who is haunting it, and how does her story connect to the town’s dark history? And when a tragedy strikes the town about halfway through the book, it opens up even more questions and mysteries for Una to solve before the story’s end. Written in Ragnar Jonasson’s trademark slow-burning and subtle style, THE GIRL WHO DIED brings together all these seemingly disparate plot threads to paint a picture of a town determined to protect its own, and their secrets, at all costs. I did find a piece of this book’s finale a little bit lackluster and less impactful than I had hoped, but it by no means detracted from my overall reading experience here—it was simply a little blip in an otherwise seamless and immersive reading experience. I would highly recommend THE GIRL WHO DIED for readers who are looking for a different take on Nordic crime fiction, as well as readers who love stories of sinister, small-town suspense with a “supernatural-ish” edge. Ragnar Jonasson has long been a favorite author of mine, and his excellent first foray into standalone psychological suspense has further cemented my love of his elegant, immersive brand of crime writing.

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. All opinions my own. 

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Book Details: 

Publisher : Minotaur Books (May 4, 2021)

Language : English

Hardcover : 320 pages

ISBN-10 : 1250793734

ISBN-13 : 978-1250793737

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