Perhaps confusing endings are normal in Icelandic novels, but I’m not thrilled with them. The plot has a mystery writer disappearing, and Helgi, a detective, trying to find her.
Helgi is a self-professed bookworm. That part I can identify with, while his lack of confidence and his indecisiveness in his relationships troubled me.
I didn’t feel that the book flowed smoothly. The bouncing back and forth between decades is not a technique I’m fond of.
The number of loose ends and open-ended questions remaining at the book’s conclusion was annoying.
Overall, I was not thrilled with the book.
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