Broken – a word with many different connotations. For the two central protagonists in Jón Atli Jónasson’s debut English novel, Broken, what could be seen as a derogatory description of them actually turns into their greatest strength.
Iceland is not exactly known as a crime hotspot, but who do you turn to when most of the Reykjavík police are tasked with tackling gang crime in the capital? Dora is already a sidelined detective, brain-damaged since an arrest went wrong. Internally, she’s seen as something of a liability and someone to be given mundane tasks. Rado is equally sidelined, a Serbian immigrant further compromised by the fact that his father-in-law is the leader of the gang the force is investigating.
So when a teenager goes missing on a school trip to the National Park, the unlikely duo of Rado and Dora are thrown together to investigate. The fact that the missing teen has a history of theatrically vanishing and is transitioning female to male adds further complexity to the case. Has Morgan, as the teen now wishes to be known, left of their own accord, or is something more sinister at play?
The unlikely pairing soon gels, and the missing person case overlaps with the wider force investigation into gangland crime. The tone becomes darker and more violent as gangland fights take a toll on the detectives, veiled threats soon becoming all-too-real violence.
As with any good exploration of flawed detectives, there’s a human backstory being played in tandem with the crime. Dora’s complex health struggles, leading to an unconventional thought process, are somewhat akin to Saga Norén in The Bridge, but here with the added dimension of a brain injury sustained in the course of police duty.
Rado’s backstory is more complex: the challenges of being seen as an outsider in the force due to his Serbian heritage, his conflict of interest surrounding his in-laws’ shady business dealings, and a shocking confrontation with his long-lost brother that has near-fatal consequences.
Jónasson doesn’t flinch from the horrors of gang culture. Punches are literally thrown, and there’s no attempt to sugarcoat the darkness. It’s a brutal subplot that shows a much darker undercurrent of Icelandic culture than we often see portrayed in crime novels.
Broken is an ambitious novel. Its meandering plots sometimes threaten to run away with the author, but Jónasson harnesses them well without losing that epic dramatic sweep. A four-month gap between part one and part two of the novel does lose some momentum, but Jónasson’s background as a screenwriter means he knows how to frame action to rebuild pace and interest.
As the first part of a planned trilogy, there’s a necessary degree of exposition to establish characters, but with characters as complex as Dora and Rado there is plenty to explore and relish in future instalments.
Broken by Jón Atli Jónasson, translated by Quentin Bates, is published by Corylus Books.
