Meny

Literary figures

Sample of literary figures

  • Martine Poirot

    Female

    An investigating judge in the fictive little Belgian town Villette-sur-Meuse, where she lives with her husband, the Swedish Professor Thomas Héger, a specialist in Medieval History, and (eventually) their two children. Martine Poirot – the author Ingrid Hedström is very fond of whodunnnits à la Agatha Christie – is 34 years old when we meet her for the first time. She is attractive and picks her clothes carefully as well as being a skilful and stubborn crime investigator.

    Further reading

  • Christer Wijk

    Male

    Inspector Wijk is one of the best-known criminal investigators in Swedish crime fiction. He was born and raised in the fictional town of Skoga (based on the town of Nora in author Maria Lang’s mystery stories); it is there and in Stockholm that he solves most of his cases. He is close to his mother, who still lives in Skoga, and he later marries the singer Camilla Martin – a marriage that is not without problems.

    Further reading

  • Bjørn Beltø

    Male

    Norwegian archaeologist, who solves mysteries with religious connections in a suite of novels by Tom Egeland. Bjørn Beltø is just over 30 years old and is an albino, which means that he has poor vision and pale skin. He is single and finds it hard to get relationships to work, despite certain women being interested in him. He periodically suffers from anxiety, and then prefers to sit at home and listen to classical music.

    Further reading

  • Philip Marlowe

    Male

    Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe is the archetype of the hardboiled American private eye. Many subsequent authors of crime fiction have found inspiration in the lonesome, brooding detective. Marlowe is a former investigator at the district attorney’s office of Los Angeles County, he is well read, interested in social issues, and he moves as effortlessly in the upper echelons of society as in back alleys and shady bars thanks to his wisecracking repartee.

    Further reading