Meny

Sample of literary figures

  • Ewert Grens

    Male

    Middle-aged detective chief inspector in Stockholm, ordinary-looking, with thinning hair and a wrinkled face. He suffers from a severe trauma: his wife Anni suffered severe brain damage in an accident that he caused. Now Ewert Grens visits her every day in the care home. His only consolation is the songs sung by Siw Malmkvist, and he is always listening to them in the novels by Anders Roslund – the early novels were written together with Börge Hellström.

    Further reading

  • 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

  • Thursday Next

    Female

    She is called Thursday Next, and is an agent for a state organisation in an absurd, parallel world (i.e. parallel to our own) that is imbued with literary features. She is newly married – we get to know that her husband Landen Parke-Laine drowned when he was three years old – and has a son Friday. Her mother is called Wednesday. Jasper Fforde has written a suite of very different fantasy crime novels about Thursday Next and her world.

    Further reading

  • Fredrika Bergman

    Female

    She was actually going to become a historian like her parents wished, but Fredrika Bergman changed direction and instead became an investigative analyst for the Stockholm C.I.D. She is in her early middle age, has an attractive appearance and a married lover, Spencer, 25 years older than her, and whom she meets every week. In Kristina Ohlsson’s books about her, she usually cooperates with Detective Chief Inspector Alex Recht.

    Further reading