Upon reading Henning Mankell’s Wallander novels

It’s obvious —
the weather is the culprit.
Endless snow, or waiting for snow,
or discussing if it will snow,
or wading through medieval mud,
down hidden, slushy roads.
And those other nights
that are nights in name only,
quite midday bright.

The wonder is that there are Swedes
who don’t murder each other.

(Not to mention the Danes.)

P.S. Cottier



I read very little crime, and have been surprised how much I enjoy Henning Mankell’s Wallander novels, which I have read in a huge glut.  Only one to go.  So clever how he lets the reader know more than the detective for most of the books.