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Sole di mezzanotte (2015)

di Jo Nesbo

UtentiRecensioniPopolaritàMedia votiCitazioni
8373625,825 (3.41)12
Fiction. Mystery. Suspense. Thriller. HTML:The internationally acclaimed author of Blood on Snow and the Harry Hole novels now gives us the tightly wound tale of a man running from retribution, a renegade hitman who goes to ground far above the Arctic circle, where the never-setting sun might slowly drive a man insane.
           
He calls himself Ulf—as good a name as any, he thinks—and the only thing he’s looking for is a place where he won’t be found by Oslo’s most notorious drug lord: the Fisherman. He was once the Fisherman’s fixer, but after betraying him, Ulf is now the one his former boss needs fixed—which may not be a problem for a man whose criminal reach is boundless. When Ulf gets off the bus in Kåsund, on Norway’s far northeastern border, he sees a “flat, monotonous, bleak landscape . . . the perfect hiding place. Hopefully.”
           
The locals—native Sami and followers of a particularly harsh Swedish version of Christianity—seem to accept Ulf’s explanation that he’s come to hunt, even if he has no gun and the season has yet to start. And a bereaved, taciturn woman and her curious, talkative young son supply him with food, the use of a cabin deep in the woods, a weapon—and companionship that stirs something in him he thought was long dead.
           
But the agonizing wait for the inevitable moment when the Fisherman’s henchmen will show—the midnight sun hanging in the sky like an unblinking, all-revealing eye—forces him to question if redemption is at all possible or if, as he’s always believed, “hope is a real bastard.”.
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» Vedi le 12 citazioni

Inglese (33)  Catalano (1)  Tedesco (1)  Olandese (1)  Tutte le lingue (36)
1-5 di 36 (prossimo | mostra tutto)
Second [relatively] short read from Jo Nesbo. Although we follow completely different protagonist (this time man mistaken to be a ruthless killer and employed by the notorious Fisherman until ... well lets say truth came out) story is set into the same universe as [b: Blood on Snow|23602504|Blood on Snow (Blood on Snow, #1)|Jo Nesbø|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1422370944l/23602504._SY75_.jpg|26659491] and takes place as a matter of fact immediately after the first book.

Again, this is bitter sweet book about a aforementioned hit-man Jon who tries to find refuge in sub-polar area of Norway, wast wilderness of Finnmark area. Here he will come into contact with Sami people (Laplanders) and through contact with the natives Jon will slowly get back on track to normal life.

Dialogue is witty (made me laugh more than once, especially the "Everyone is southerner from this point on planet" :):)) and story is [as in the first book] told from the point of view of Jon. I liked the portrayal of people, how different places and ways of life build different views of the world around us.

This is much more happier book than the first one - although keep in mind this is crime novel with the comedic elements (or tragicomedy elements .... lets say serious stories told in a more relaxed way :)).

Recommended for fans of crime and noir stories. ( )
  Zare | Jan 23, 2024 |
Bello e ben scritto e, se anche all’inizio risulta un po’ lento, basta addentrarsi nella lettura per restarne coinvolti e appassionati.
( )
  Raffaella10 | Jan 28, 2023 |
Nesbo can really tell a great story - hard to put down. ( )
  rjdycus | Dec 19, 2022 |
This book was something of a pleasure to read. The way the story was written was clever and I found myself really enjoying it, but there were parts I didn't care for, parts that were depressing (e.g. why only 4-stars).

However, I consider this one full of smart, thoughtful writing, but light in its own way. Or, at least, I think so.

I liked passages such as these:

"I shut my eyes and concentrated on the sun, and on feeling it warm my skin. On pleasure. Hedon. The Greek god. Or idol, as he should probably be called seeing as I was on hallowed ground. It's pretty arrogant, calling all other gods, apart from the one you've come up with, idols. Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Every dictator's command to his subjects, of course. The funny thing was that Christians couldn't see it themselves. They didn't see the mechanism, the regenerative, self-fulfilling, self-aggrandising aspect which meant that a superstition like this could survive for two thousand years, and in which the key--salvation--was restricted to those who were fortunate enough to have been born in a space of time which was a merest blink of the eye in human history, and who also happened to live on the only little bit of the planet that ever got to hear the commandment and were able to formulate an opinion about the concise sales pitch ("Paradise?")."

[And.]

"My grandfather drew churches," I said. "He used to be an architect. But he didn't believe in God. He said that when we died, we died. I'm more inclined to believe that."

"He didn't believe in Jesus either?"

"If he didn't believe in God, he was hardly going to believe in his son, Knut."

"I get it."

"You get it. So?"

"So he'll burn in hell."

"Hmmmm. In that case he's been burning for a while, because he died when I was nineteen. Don't you think that's a bit unfair? Basse was a good man, he gave a helping hand to people who needed it, which is more than you can say about a lot of Christians I've known. If I could be half as good a man as my grandfather . . ."

"Grandpa says doing good deeds doesn't help, Ulf. Your grandfather's burning now, and soon it'll be your turn."

"Hmm. But you're saying that if I go to the meeting and say yes to Jesus and this Læstadius, I'll get to paradise even if I do sod all to help anyone else?"

The boy scratched his red hair. "Yeees. Well, if you say yes to the Lyngen branch."

"There's more than one branch?"

"There are the Firstborns in Alta, and the Lundbergians in South Tromsø, and the Old Læstadians in America, and—"

"And they're all going to burn?"

"Grandpa says they will."

"Sounds like there's going to be plenty of room in paradise. Have you thought about what would happen if you and I had switched grandfathers? Then you'd have been an atheist and me a Læstadian. And then you'd be the one who'd burn in hell."

"Maybe. But fortunately you're the one who's going to burn, Ulf." ( )
  Picathartes | Aug 7, 2022 |
3.5 ( )
  deannachapman | Sep 15, 2021 |
Utmerket same-western «Mere blod», den andre romanen i Jo Nesbøs smusslitteraturunivers fra 70-tallet, holder stilen.

Boken er preget av overskudd, det virker som forfatteren har kost seg med materialet. Troverdigheten kan man naturligvis stille spørsmål ved, men jeg velger å skrive dette på kontoen til hyllesten av den løsslupne smusslitteraturen, der det meste er lov.

«Mere blod» er gøyalt lesestoff, en fin tur med berg-og-dal-banen, for alle som ikke tar krim så altfor alvorlig.
aggiunto da annek49 | modificaDN, Ola A. Hegdal (Aug 14, 2015)
 
Helt OK fra Vidda
I sin andre spenningsbok for året velger Jo Nesbø å holde seg i 70-tallet og lar oss møte nok en leiemorder fra Oslos narkotika-miljø, men på Finnmarksvidda. Det er velskrevet og litt spennende, men historien har vi lest før – mer enn én gang.
aggiunto da annek49 | modificaNRK, Leif Ekle (Aug 14, 2015)
 
Språklig overskudd og fortellerglede preger den andre boken i Jo Nesbøs kriminelle sjangerlek.
aggiunto da annek49 | modificaVG, Sindre Hovdenakk (Aug 14, 2015)
 

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Fiction. Mystery. Suspense. Thriller. HTML:The internationally acclaimed author of Blood on Snow and the Harry Hole novels now gives us the tightly wound tale of a man running from retribution, a renegade hitman who goes to ground far above the Arctic circle, where the never-setting sun might slowly drive a man insane.
           
He calls himself Ulf—as good a name as any, he thinks—and the only thing he’s looking for is a place where he won’t be found by Oslo’s most notorious drug lord: the Fisherman. He was once the Fisherman’s fixer, but after betraying him, Ulf is now the one his former boss needs fixed—which may not be a problem for a man whose criminal reach is boundless. When Ulf gets off the bus in Kåsund, on Norway’s far northeastern border, he sees a “flat, monotonous, bleak landscape . . . the perfect hiding place. Hopefully.”
           
The locals—native Sami and followers of a particularly harsh Swedish version of Christianity—seem to accept Ulf’s explanation that he’s come to hunt, even if he has no gun and the season has yet to start. And a bereaved, taciturn woman and her curious, talkative young son supply him with food, the use of a cabin deep in the woods, a weapon—and companionship that stirs something in him he thought was long dead.
           
But the agonizing wait for the inevitable moment when the Fisherman’s henchmen will show—the midnight sun hanging in the sky like an unblinking, all-revealing eye—forces him to question if redemption is at all possible or if, as he’s always believed, “hope is a real bastard.”.

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