Icelanders adore murder mysteries, which is a little funny given that there are often years with zero murders in real life in Iceland. I haven't been impressed with a single Icelandic murder mystery I've read so far, I have to admit. (Though to be fair, this is written by an Englishman who spent time in Iceland.) I read this on the plane to and from Iceland, and it was probably the most boring part of my trip. The mystery itself was totally unintriguing, and unfortunately, most of the characters were pretty interchangeable. The protagonist was the best of the bunch, but she couldn't salvage the dullness. I did, however, enjoy the book more on the return flight since I had then seen a lot of the places mentioned for myself; for example, on our last night, we camped in Hafnarfjörður, where several events in the book take place.