Review | The Chestnut Man by Søren Sveistrup

When a body of a woman is found in Copenhagen, the police believes it’s just another tragic case. But they found a handmade doll made of chestnuts and matchsticks at the body. On the doll, there are fingerprints belonging to a girl believed to be dead. Two detectives have to work together to stop The Chestnut Man before he strikes again.

Chestnut man, do come in. Chestnut man, do come in. Have you any chestnuts that you’ve brought for me today? Thank you kindly, won’t you stay…

On the surface the premise of The Chestnut Man is familiar – a female detective, Naia Thulin, is paired with a male outsider, Mark Hess, to investigate a serial killing. But the two leads are compelling enough to keep me interested. Thulin is a single mother and her warm relationship with her daughter is one of the highlights of the book. She has just requested a transfer to another department when the case lands on her table. Accompanying her is Hess, recently transferred from Interpol, a disciplining move after a kerfuffle following his unprofessional behaviour. Not surprisingly, Hess has a lot of darkness in him, and I enjoyed finding out about his past. His relationship with the caretaker at his apartment provide some much needed humour. While Thulin and Hess are distant at first, their partnership becomes stronger as it goes on.

The chestnut men dolls are an interesting choice of calling card for an active serial killer. I found the murders really gruesome! The graphic description of torture might balk some readers so fair warning. While I successfully guessed the villain’s identity, there is still plenty of surprises in terms of motive and history. I thought the book gives enough information to create a villain whose actions, while ruthless, are also understandable. I thought the October setting in Copenhagen with all the chestnuts gives the story the perfect autumn vibe. Eating chestnuts will never be the same again!

What I didn’t like was I felt the book is too long at times, as we get many point of views even from minor characters. The third person perspective feels distant and some scenes are described like they’re on TV – this makes sense as the author is also a screenwriter. But it loses any emotional connection I might have with the characters, most notably the victims. One flashback scene shows an emotional turn that hits the mark and I wish more of the book is the same way.

In the end, The Chestnut Man works best when it focuses on why these characters do what they do, and what secrets they could be hiding. This is a substantial, emotionally charged crime fiction perfect for fans of Nordic noir.

Note: contains scenes of graphic violence and child abuse

About the author: Søren Sveistrup

Photo by Markus Spiske