Book Club 2025: Diamanter og rust by Anne Holt

I’m reading yet another mystery, but this one is brand new.

And it’s fun — it’s really original, and it wasn’t at all clear where anything was even leading until halfway through. But then…

OK, spoiler time. Don’t read anything more if you’re going to read this book.

This book features a character with last name “Hoff” who shares a lot of biographical details with Anne Holt — most notably an event that happened in the 90s, where one of Holt’s book was “nulled”; which means that the committee that buys books for the libraries in Norway found it had no literary qualities, and didn’t buy it. This almost never happens with Norwegian authors, so it was quite a thing.

So while reading, it was irresistible to Google things to refresh my memories of all that drama:

“Did you mean: anne holt mullet”? Good question, but no. Google translate:

“Anne Holt nullet” probably refers to a misunderstanding or misspelling of the phrase “anne holt null-ett”, which may refer to her being Minister of Justice for a period of one year, 1996–1997, according to store norske leksikon and VG. Another possibility is that it is a misspelling of “Anne Holt nuller”, which may be related to her having been awarded zero stars on the dice for a book for a year, but this is not directly confirmed in the search results

Wow, that’s some LLM result.

And I was completely degraded as a writer. A couple of my fellow writers thought I was a complete idiot.

Anne Holt was “zeroed out” for her novel “Mea Culpa”. That is, the book was not purchased for libraries.

– A member of the Arts Council stood at Dagsrevyen with a copy of “Mea Culpa”, in which he had yellowed out sentences that he thought were hopeless.

Anne Holt sat alone in the living room and watched. She felt like her life was falling apart.

Which is indeed exactly what the “Hoff” character went through.

The person who started all of this was an author called Øystein Rottem, who died in 2004. Or as Google says:

Øystein Rottem was a Norwegian literary critic and professor, and
he is best known for his collaboration with the author Anne Holt. Rottem helped to popularize Holt’s writing and published a biography of her in 2014.

Literary critic: Rottem was a central voice in Norwegian literary criticism, with a strong commitment to contemporary literature.

Collaboration with Anne Holt: He wrote several books and articles about Anne Holt, her writing and her position in Norwegian literature.

Biography: In 2014, Rottem published the book “Anne Holt. A Biography” which provided an in-depth insight into her life and career.

I thought they’d made the Gemini LLM hallucinate less now? But perhaps not for smaller languages?

But anyway, one of the characters in the book is described as having written that harsh critique that led to Holt’s life almost falling apart is a bald guy who smokes a pipe:

Like Øystein Rottem, so it’s not like she’s being subtle or anything…

Here’s part of what Rottem wrote about Holt, via Google Translate:

These lines are taken from a book that BNB considers one of the best of the year. Read them again. I ask: is it literary politics to point out that this kind of linguistic inaccuracy represents a low standard that qualifies for zeroing? And I can assure readers that I could fill two entire Dagblad pages and more with similar quotes if the editor had given me the green light to do so. The fact that a number of other books are published in which there are just as many inaccuracies does not alter the fact that the decision to zero this piece of weekly magazine prose was entirely appropriate.

Wow, that’s a bad translation…

Well, all of this is fun in a roman à clef way, but the problem is: 1) Anne Holt has done this before. She’s already written a novel where the deranged killer was a version of herself. This time around, the version isn’t deranged at all, but, er… 2) There’s nobody else, at all, who could be the culprit, so it just feels like bad mystery-writing craft. 3) Googling every new details while reading isn’t optimal. And 4) the book ends pretty much as I’d expected otherwise, too, so that’s also a letdown.

But it’s otherwise a very well-done mystery. And I guess if you’d never read anything by Holt before, or known anything about her history, the clef-ey bits would have been less distracting.

Diamanter og rust (2025) by Anne Holt (3.98 on Goodreads)

Book Club 2025: At Death’s Door by Robert Barnard

Yes, another old mystery.

As is common with Barnard, we get the murder smack dab in the middle of the book, so there’s plenty of time to get to know the suspects (and we get the added mystery of who’s going to be killed). It works well here — there’s a varied bunch of characters, and I couldn’t guess whodunnit at all.

But the actual denouement felt pretty weak — the detective just had a brain storm and AHA! Still, a perfectly pleasant read.

At Death’s Door (1988) by Robert Barnard (buy used, 3.48 on Goodreads)

November Music

Music I’ve bought in November.

Didn’t really buy much… let’s see…

Tujiko Noriko – Keshou To Heitai (Make-Up And Soldier)

I finally scored a copy of Tujiko Noriko’s first album after looking for one for years. I bought it from somebody in Japan, so it had the added attraction of coming wrapped in six layers of packaging, and included a thank-you card. The Japanese know packaging.

Oh, and I got this album by Dominique Grange, because I read the Tardi-drawn album a few weeks back.

It’s cool. The music’s like this:

Les Nouveaux Partisans

And stuff.

Oh, and Juana Molina has a new album out, but I haven’t had much chance to listen to it yet.

Book Club 2025: Murder Is Easy by Agatha Christie

It’s not easy to find an Agatha Christie book to re-read — even though it’s been a couple decades since I read most of them, the plots of many of them are still pretty clear in my head. But then again, the most famous of them have been made into TV series, movies and radio plays, and so I’ve already experienced them many times.

But this one didn’t ring a bell, and it’s from 1939, so I went with it.

And it’s very entertaining. It’s got a satisfyingly large number of suspects, and we really get into the investigation — but without going over the same plot points again and again. It does get a bit bogged down in the third quarter, but then the ending’s totally mad, so that’s fun. (I did guess the murderer, but I’m guessing that’s because I’ve read this before, even if I didn’t remember anything else about it.)

Robert Barnard:

Archetypal Mayhem Parva story, with all the best ingredients: Cranford-style village with ‘about six women to every man’; doctors, lawyers, retired colonels and antique dealers; suspicions of black magic; and, as optional extra ingredient, a memorably awful press lord. And of course a generous allowance of sharp old spinsters. Shorter than most on detection, perhaps because the detection is, until the end, basically amateur. One of the classics.

Murder Is Easy (1939) by Agatha Christie (buy used, 3.77 on Goodreads)

Book Club 2025: They Do It With Mirrors by Agatha Christie

About 20 years ago, I remembered that I’d quite liked Agatha Christie’s mysteries when I was a child, so I decided to read them all chronologically. Which took about ten years, since I only did so while either being hung over or having a cold or the like.

And then afterwards I watched the Joan Hickson Marple series, and then the David Suchet Poirot series (speaking of which — that one sure was fun for the first half, what with the amusing Scooby Gang of characters and stuff, but then they decided to get All Serious, and things totally went off the cliffs), and…

What I’m saying is that I wanted to re-read some Christie now, because I am once again under the weather, but it was hard to choose something I didn’t remember perfectly. But I couldn’t remember this one at all, which is either a good, or a bad sign.

It was a bad sign. I mean, it’s not awful or anything, but it’s Agatha Christie at her laziest: She came up with The Mystery, and then didn’t really bother to do anything more. Instead we have Marple being summoned on a woozy premise to a mansion, and as soon as she arrives, everybody swarms her, telling her all their business. Then there’s the murder, and then the rest is just the police investigating it, getting one witness statement after another until there’s a sufficient number of pages, and then a quick reveal.

Robert Barnard says:

Otherwise highly traditional, with houseplans, Marsh-y inquisitions, and second and third murders done most perfunctorily.” He summed it up as showing “Definite signs of decline.”

And while I didn’t think I remembered anything of the plot, as soon as the murder had been committed, I flipped back to the house plan, and said “well, obviously X did it”, which turned out to be correct. And I’m not smarter than Christie, so I must have remembered that part, even if I don’t remember remembering it.

This book has the third-lowest rating of the Marple books on Goodreads, so I guess my opinion here is decidedly mainstream. *pout*

Well, I still want to read another Christie book… but this time, perhaps from the 30s, and perhaps without either Marple or Poirot?

They Do It With Mirrors (1952) by Agatha Christie (buy used, 3.78 on Goodreads)