Don't know if it's the recent cold snap or the sense of mortality that overtakes us at the beginning of another year, but my reading list has taken on a distinct Scandinavian tilt in the last week or so, along with all the dismalness that implies.
Knocked off THE SNOWMAN, by Jo Nesbo, set in Norway with alcoholic, self-destructive cop Harry Hole. Then followed it with THE TROUBLED MAN, by Henning Mankell, in which we bid farewell to Kurt Wallander, the depressed and achingly introspective Swedish police detective who is facing an endlife with Alzheimer's.
No matter how old and cold I might be feeling, these guys really brighten my day.