Anthony McIntyre đź”–The Scandinoir of Jussi Adler Olsen seems to have taken an upward turn prompted by the success of the gripping Scottish Department Q drama. 


The Mercy plot was simply transported to Scotland where it was acted out impressively by Matthew Goode, Alexej Manvelov and crew.

Revenge is said to be a dish best served cold. Settling scores in the 1980s for transgressions that took place in the 1950s is ample time for the heat to seep out of the revenge dish. Denmark, 1987, and Nete Hermansen is on a mission, although not from god but against those who believed they had the right to exercise godlike powers over others. The victim of abuse decades earlier, she hatched her plan with ruthless precision. Betrayed by so many and ultimately abandoned by her husband for the effects of abuse over which she had no control, the blood from the bodies of one or two people would not be enough to slake Nete's thirst for revenge.

One of the abusers in her sights was Curt Wad, a skilled surgeon who used his expertise to sterilise women and girls who did not live up to his morality police expectations. His contempt for women did not extend to his wife. Here, he was the devoted husband attending to her every need as she slowly succumbs to terminal illness. A moraliser rather than a moralist, in his late eighties, Wad is a true believer heavily involved in a far right wing political movement, the type of which we see increasingly goosestepping its way through European towns and cities. Wad is no Justin Barrett, a figure of ridicule. His Purity Party is serious about its ideology, happy to leave the prancing around in Nazi uniform bit to knaves. For Wad:

It was all a matter of genes, and people with slanting eyes or brown skin had no part in the idealized narrative of flaxen-haired girls and boys with strong muscular frames. Tamils, Pakistanis, Turks, Afghans, Vietnamese, all had to be stopped in the manner of any other invasive impurity. Effectively and without hesitation.

A major site for abuse was a women's home on an island off the coast of Denmark. The Sprogø institution which bore more than a passing resemblance to the Mother and baby homes or industrial schools of Ireland so grossly mismanaged by Septic Sisters and Christian Buggerers.

When the case of a missing brothel owner lands on the cold case desk of Carl Mørck in Department Q, the Copenhagen detective can think of better things to do than solve a missing person case from 1987. His mind changes when it is brought to his attention that the same week that the madam disappeared a number of others had done likewise. Not easily shoved into the coincidence folder, it sets even flu blocked noses twitching. Sprogøis the scene of the crime. In influenza stricken Denmark, Department Q has to clear its nasal passages to get on the Sprogo scent, leading back to a sickness infinitely worse than what is causing Danish sniffles. 

The seasoned follower will slide easily into the narrative of Department Q, by now familiar with the trio at its centre, Morck, Assad, and Rose. With the latter two more layers are peeled away giving the reader more insight into what drives them, even distracts them.

The best is left to the end with a superb WTF dish served up at a feast of the macabre. 

Jussi Adler Olsen, 2014, The Purity Of Vengeance. Publisher: Dutton. ISBN-13: ‎978-0142181317

Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

The Purity Of Vengeance

Anthony McIntyre đź”–The Scandinoir of Jussi Adler Olsen seems to have taken an upward turn prompted by the success of the gripping Scottish Department Q drama. 


The Mercy plot was simply transported to Scotland where it was acted out impressively by Matthew Goode, Alexej Manvelov and crew.

Revenge is said to be a dish best served cold. Settling scores in the 1980s for transgressions that took place in the 1950s is ample time for the heat to seep out of the revenge dish. Denmark, 1987, and Nete Hermansen is on a mission, although not from god but against those who believed they had the right to exercise godlike powers over others. The victim of abuse decades earlier, she hatched her plan with ruthless precision. Betrayed by so many and ultimately abandoned by her husband for the effects of abuse over which she had no control, the blood from the bodies of one or two people would not be enough to slake Nete's thirst for revenge.

One of the abusers in her sights was Curt Wad, a skilled surgeon who used his expertise to sterilise women and girls who did not live up to his morality police expectations. His contempt for women did not extend to his wife. Here, he was the devoted husband attending to her every need as she slowly succumbs to terminal illness. A moraliser rather than a moralist, in his late eighties, Wad is a true believer heavily involved in a far right wing political movement, the type of which we see increasingly goosestepping its way through European towns and cities. Wad is no Justin Barrett, a figure of ridicule. His Purity Party is serious about its ideology, happy to leave the prancing around in Nazi uniform bit to knaves. For Wad:

It was all a matter of genes, and people with slanting eyes or brown skin had no part in the idealized narrative of flaxen-haired girls and boys with strong muscular frames. Tamils, Pakistanis, Turks, Afghans, Vietnamese, all had to be stopped in the manner of any other invasive impurity. Effectively and without hesitation.

A major site for abuse was a women's home on an island off the coast of Denmark. The Sprogø institution which bore more than a passing resemblance to the Mother and baby homes or industrial schools of Ireland so grossly mismanaged by Septic Sisters and Christian Buggerers.

When the case of a missing brothel owner lands on the cold case desk of Carl Mørck in Department Q, the Copenhagen detective can think of better things to do than solve a missing person case from 1987. His mind changes when it is brought to his attention that the same week that the madam disappeared a number of others had done likewise. Not easily shoved into the coincidence folder, it sets even flu blocked noses twitching. Sprogøis the scene of the crime. In influenza stricken Denmark, Department Q has to clear its nasal passages to get on the Sprogo scent, leading back to a sickness infinitely worse than what is causing Danish sniffles. 

The seasoned follower will slide easily into the narrative of Department Q, by now familiar with the trio at its centre, Morck, Assad, and Rose. With the latter two more layers are peeled away giving the reader more insight into what drives them, even distracts them.

The best is left to the end with a superb WTF dish served up at a feast of the macabre. 

Jussi Adler Olsen, 2014, The Purity Of Vengeance. Publisher: Dutton. ISBN-13: ‎978-0142181317

Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

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