Meny

Sample of literary figures

  • Kafa Iqbal

    Female

    She was born in Jordan, which her skin hints at: she always seems to have a suntan, according to author Ingar Johnsrud. But Kafa Iqbal works for the Norwegian security service as an expert on religious terrorists when she is introduced to the readers – however, she soon switches to the Criminal Investigation Department of the Oslo Police. She is beautiful, slim, with dark, shoulder-length hair with a parting in the middle. She is also good at karate – and single.

    Further reading

  • Lisa Mattei

    Female

    In 2005, Leif G.W. Persson wrote about the young detective inspector Lisa Mattei; ten years later, she is a middle-aged operations manager for the Swedish security services. She made a rapid career, but has a bad conscience because she rarely has time to be with her family, her husband Johan and her daughter Ella. She has private means, and is something of a connoisseur when it comes to clothes, for example. But she is also a gifted and skilful police officer.

    Further reading

  • Mma Makutsi

    Female

    She struggles with her poor skin and unflattering spectacles, but Mma Grace Makutsi has impressively high grades from her secretarial course and is a lady with skin on her nose and a sharp tongue. In Alexander McCall Smith’s suite of novels about The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency in Botswana’s capital Gaborone, Mma Makutsi is first employed, but after a while becomes a part-owner of the agency. She is also happily married to Phuti Radiphuti.

    Further reading

  • Carl Hamilton

    Male

    The Swedish secret agent Carl Hamilton, code name Coq Rouge, was born in 1954 to an aristocratic family and later became a leftist activist. He trained as an attack diver and after being trained by the CIA he worked for the military intelligence organization OP5 and was later appointed director general of the Swedish Security Services. Hamilton is the protagonist in about a dozen bestselling thrillers by Jan Guillou.

    Further reading