Ratings7
Average rating4.3
I've rewritten this review a few times now. I wish I wasn't struggling so much to explain how much I love this book. I think it's because it feels so important to me that nothing I write seems good enough. That's how highly I hold Wolf Winter in my heart.
Wolf Winter is haunting. That's the best word I can think of to describe it. It's one of those books that stick with you, churns in your mind while you're reading it, and makes you feel bitter about people.
As someone who typically struggles with historical fiction, I was surprised by how hooked I got with this book. Each character had to navigate social norms and expectations while investigating the mystery, which added a layer of difficulty for them that I don't often see thrillers explore. On top of that, even the weather is oppressive, a looming threat to their survival. Everyone is struggling so hard to simply just survive that it becomes easy to see why so many crimes back then went unsolved.
All of this culminates into something heartbreaking and distressing because it mirrors the way people handle such situations even today. I know that sounds vague (I'm trying to avoid spoilers) but once you've read the book you'll get it.
Anyway, this review has been all over the place so I'm just going to leave it at this: read the book, it's amazing, especially during the winter months with a nice warm drink to keep you company.
When I think of Lappland images of tipis, the mystical, ethereal lights of Aurora Borealis, a landscape covered with snow, a sky painted with all gradients of pink and purple, clothes in vivid hues of blue and red come to my mind. A place where the tales come alive to mingle with the lives of its people. This is Wolf Winter. A tale that is beautiful in its darkness and haunting in its bleakness. Folktales of witchcraft and ghosts emerge with everyday life becoming the blanket upon which one can forge plans of revenge and redemption.
At the heart of the story we find Maija - one of the most fascinating characters in recent literature - her eldest daughter Federika, and the Priest who has more secrets than any. Cecilia Ekbäck's protagonists are fleshed out and her beautiful prose leads us into an unforgettable reading experience. Although each character is interesting and extremely well - written, I admit I have a soft spot for our Priest whose name becomes known towards the end of the novel.
I don't consider myself a slow reader, but I deliberately read this novel as slowly as I could to savour each page. This is one of the rare cases where I hope for a novel to become a film. A dark, beautiful masterpiece in the hands of a Scandinavian director. Somehow, while I was reading, I kept picturing Finland's Peter Franzén as the Priest.
Such novels are hard to find these days. Do yourself a favour and dive right into it. It will not disappoint you.