Glögg (word of the day)

 Don't judge me, but I have been watching a Christmas romcom series on Netflix, called Home for Christmas. Not exactly groundbreaking, but while not original it can be genuinely cute at times and reasonably clever. But I watch it because it's set in Norway and it looks perfect for the holidays. Oh, and it's the same team that made A Storm for Christmas, which I really loved. Anyway, I discovered thanks to the third season a sort of mulled wine (or spirit) called glögg. Originally from Sweden, or so the Wikipedia entry says. I love to discover new Yuletide traditions and I hope to try glögg one day. Anyone ever drank it? Leave me a comment. And glögg is the word of the day.

"Nordic Noir"

 I stumbled on an article in Forbes today: Nordic Noir: 5 Must-Read Crime Novels Set in Norway. I don't know if I ever heard the term "Nordic Noir", but I love it and this is now the word of the day. I have read very little Scandinavian crime fiction, in fact I think I only read one book. I know, I know, this is borderline shameful. It is ironic, because, although I have never been to Norway, I love a lot of things Scandinavian and Scandinavia in general is a great setting for Noir crime fiction. Therefore, I will check if these five titles and their authors are available in the local bookshop next time I go there. And if you have any recommendations for Scandinavian crime fiction (or crime fiction in general), please leave them in the comments.

A spies' coat of arms

This post is I hope the first of many about police, army and intelligence services around the world. And if you ask me why I am doing this, the answer is simple: just for fun. Anyway, you may know of many intelligence agencies around the world, but maybe not of the Norwegian Intelligence Service, or NIS. I know nothing about them either, except for the very first episode of The Sandbaggers, where they are depicted in a badlight,annoyingly sloppy spies that are borderline amateurs. That said, I wished you could see them in more spy thrillers for one trivial reason: they have a badass coat of arms. You can see on it Odin's ravens Huginn and Muninn (Thought and Memory) and any intelligence service that takes inspiration from Norse mythology is okay in my book. No matter what this coat of arms has to show up in fiction some day.

A Storm for Christmas

 'Tis the season to be watching and I surprised myself in that regard recently. I wanted to watch something Christmassee but not silly and stumbled upon A Storm for Christmas, a Netflix miniseries. It is set in Oslo airport right before Christmas, when a snowstorm forces the flights to be cancelled and the passengers to be stranded. It follows an ensemble cast of characters who must face their own demons through the crisis that the storm brings. I started watching it not expecting much (it is usually the case when I watch something on Netflix) and I think I fund my ew Christmas classic. Julestorm, as it is called in Norwegian is touching without ever going soppy, people earn their happy endings, although for some they are bittersweet. I finished it today after binging it.

The Coolest Chess Pieces

I found this picture in the Facebook page of the British Museum a few days ago. They are called Lewis Chessmen because they were found on the Isle of Lewis, but they were carved in Norway around 1150-1200. You can read more about it here. I shared them on this blog today because,while I have played chess since childhoodand owned many sets, I never ever seen such beautifully, meticulously crafted ones. And although I haven't played chess for years, I want to own a set like this one.

Blood on Snow (#Christmascrime)

'Tis the season to be reading and I know I blogged about this book before, in 2019 to be precise. Nevertheless, I thought it would be good to plug it again. Be that asit may, for me Christmastime is the perfect time to read (among other genres) crime fiction, especially (of course) crime fiction stories set during Yuletide. And there are not many as perfect for the season than Blood on Snow by Norwegian writer Jo Nesbo. Shamefully I haven't read anything from him since then. I need to correct this (new year resolution?) and I need to revisit this specific novel one day. Maybe next Christmas. Until then, read my previous post if you need any convincing. And read this book for your seasonal dose of Christmas crime (if there was no hashtag for it, there is one now).

Blood on Snow

'Tis the season to be reading! Today is the first day of Advent, so Christmas is getting closer, so I am giving you some reading suggestion for Yuletide. As a crime fiction aficionado, I thought I started the season with a crime novel (or novella). Nothing is more fitting for Christmas than blood of snow. And tonight's suggestion is aptly titled... Blood on Snow. Written by Norwegian writer Jo Nesbo. Strangely enough, it is my very first venture in Scandinavian crime fiction. I often go Scandinavian for my Christmas read, but so far it has been Norse sagas. Come to think of it, this book has a lot in common with these sagas of old: it is short yet very dense, has larger than life characters, a (anti)hero living a life of never ending violence, betrayals, double crossings, tragic ironies and enough people killed to make Valhalla overcrowded. The story? Professional hitman with a hidden soft side Olav is given a contract on his boss' wife... By his boss. And through his surveillance before the hit, Olav falls in love with his target, or at least becomes infatuated with her. And that is just the start of his troubles. Set in the days leading to Christmas, Blood on Snow is maybe the Noir Christmas book to read.

A friendly troll

Back in November, I blogged about a troll I found in a shop in York. I mentioned then that I had seen this brand before, in fact that my family bought one when we went to Sweden, years ago (and I know you can also find them in Norway). You can see on the picture the troll in question, much friendlier than one would expect of a troll: this one is maybe no older than a child (a child troll anyway) and is hugging a... dog? Wolf? Fox? Anyway, I always loved Norse folklore and legends and love stories about trolls, whether they are nice or nasty. So it made sense to buy at least one to decorate our home. This one is very cute in an ugly way. I decided to take a picture during my last time at my parents' home and share it here. I never found a name for him. If you have any suggestions, you make them in the comments. Although a troll might not need a name at all?

A troll in York

I took this picture in a shop in York, you can see here a proper Scandinavian troll. The monster, mind you, not the Internet creature. This one looks very much friendly (not to mention clean, with his reddish cheeks and nose) to be much of a monster. I love trolls and other mythological critters, especially from Norse folklore. I was very tempted to buy it, but he was too big for the flat we had back then, or to bring home. I actually knew that brand of trolls already: my family bought a similar one in Sweden, with the same colours and features. If I remember correctly, it is a Norwegian brand. All the same, I want to start a collection, but we still don't have much space here.

Décapsuleur scandinave

Mon frère PJ a acheté ce décapsuleur lors de son voyage à Bergen. il est fait en bois de renne, rien que ça. Mes parents en ont un aussi, acheté en Suède. J'en veux un aussi, parce ça a vraiment de la gueule popur déboucher une bière. Celui de mes parents est sans doute le meilleur décapsuleur que j'aie jamais utilisé (sans rire), aussi confortable qu'esthétique. Et puis ça un charme exotique, un décapsuleur scandinave. Je ne sais pas si je peux en trouver un ici, mais je vais me mettre à chercher juste au cas.

Plogue d'un carnet de voyage

Il semblerait que je fasse beaucoup de publicité ces temps-ci, dans mes billets en français du moins. Cela dit, évènement rarrissime, PJ a blogué sur son voyage en Norvège. Je le fais remarquer ici et je vous encourage à aller le lire, pour plusieurs raisons. D'abord, parce que le sujet est intéressant, parce que le billet se lit comme... un carnet de voyage/un journal de bord, parce qu'il y a de jolies photos exotiques et finalement parce que mon petit frère a été le premier de la famille à avoir un blogue. Son expérience dans la blogosphère a été l'une des raisons qui m'ont poussé à bloguer. Un bleuet loin du fjord, c'est beaucoup le grand frère de Vraie Fiction. Et c'est bien parfois de retourner aux sources.

The Rosenkrantz Tower

I am publishing here, with my brother's permission, the tower I mentioned in my earlier blog. He took the photo from his cell (his cell phone, not a prison cell, obviously). It is the Rosenkrantz Tower from the Bergenhus Fortress, or so my brother says. It does not quite look like the picture on Wikipedia.

What can I say about it? The name reminds me of a character from Hamlet. The look of the tower reminds me of course of the medieval times, albeit it was built slightly after. I cannot help think about Dungeons & Dragons watching it. I am a terrible, incorrigible geek I guess. In any case, it is a beautiful tower.

An old tower and a great unknown line

As I mentioned yesterday in my rambling nostalgia post, my brother is in Norway. He already uploaded a few pictures on Facebook. The world has definitely become a much smaller place. Among them, a picture of an old (medieval?) tower, absolutely beautiful. I apologise if I did not publish here, but these are his pictures and he has a blog, so I will let him do it himself. That said, he wrote on Facebook a great unknown line, not a funny/comical one, but something that sums up in a nutshell the look of the old continent: "It wouldn't be Europe without an old tower". It is true. I wonder if only tourists or immigrants like me notice it.

Scandinavian memories

This picture was taken in my last trip to Québec. I took it, wondering where and how I would use it here on this blog. The pic is a bit blurry. I bought this Viking (or rather my parents bought it for me) in Denmark, back in 1989. It was the first of my second trip in a Scandinavian country. I am writing about this as my brother is now in Norway. It reminds me of my time in Scandinavian countries. I remember more my second visit, in Sweden. For a year, we have had a Swedish foreign exchange student who came to live with us. We got along well and call her our sister. A year later, in August 1994, we visited her and her family.

I remember a lot of things, fragments that make a blurry yet colourful picture. The almost prohibitive laws regarding alcohol consumption: a waiter refused to serve me a beer even though I was with my parents. The pathetic attempts I made at speaking English  whenever I could (I got a beer for free because of this, they couldn't make me understand that I had to pay). The family cottage near the Baltic sea, where it was cool even though it was summertime. The dip in the Baltic sea, which was so very cold. My Swedish sister took a picture of my distorted face as I had gone down to the waistline in the water. Sadly I never received a copy of it. The reindeer stew. The fermented fish, which I couldn't dare to eat (I should have tried), the smell making me feel ill. The fjords, more magnificent than my own. The medieval festival in Visby. The midnight sun, still up in August.The midnight sun especially, actually. If I have to sum it up to one thing, it is maybe the midnight sun.

Fighting the darkness

I said yesterday that I wouldn't blog about it because I found it depressing, but I think I will anyway. Take it as a necessary catharsis. I have been reading the news about what happened in Norway. The Norwegian gunman (I will not dignify him by calling him by his name) had links with UK extremist groups, which is very depressing, especially since I am an immigrant here (albeit one that cannot be accused of Islamist sympathies). I don't believe in a plot and the evidence so far has been leading to the contrary, but I cannot help fearing contagion. John Kennedy, his brother Bob, Martin Luther King, they all died around the same time, in the same period, killed by fanatics with similar ideas, but whatever the conspirationists think the killers were not link together. They simply had the same disease. This is what I fear most: some dark, inner fire that will take over evil minds. I have been reading The Plague by Albert Camus. The evil in that story is a disease that is blind and relentless, killing without motives or anger, but the fear and suffering that it creates is the same.

I cannot stop being surprised at how similar fanatics are, whatever the labels they take. The gunman feared the Islamisation of Europe, yet he despised the same things as Islamists: democracy, freedom of consciousness, I would also say love. Love for fellow human beings, for compatriots at least, a love that was very concrete and not channelled into an abstraction (a God that has everything of Big Brother, a nation that is devoid of freedom). He killed the same people an Islamist terrorist would have chosen as targets. It is nearly as laughable as it is sickening.

I heard on the news that Norwegians were fighting the darkness these days. I thought that expression was fitting. This is what must be done. Show grief for the ones who died, admiration and commiseration for the people of Norway and trying to overcome our own darkness, not to fall into bitterness or despair. Which means, in my case, trying to blog on a lighter topic.