The Chestnut Man is the adult crime fiction thriller to read. It has a series of murders that get more gruesome the deeper into the story we go, at times giving you that visceral reaction from the description of the victims. It has a year-old missing persons case that returns to the spotlight, bringing with it national pressure and media coverage that has everyone on edge. It has a plethora of individuals who are incredibly frustrating, ignorant and narrow-minded, but which one is the killer? It also has that screenwriter flourish which brings the text to life, making it so easy to visualise, and it often feels like a TV show on paper. What more could you want from the legendary man himself, Søren Sveistrup?

I do want to note that there are several trigger warnings and theme warnings to give for this book. This is not the novel for you if darker crime fiction is not your forte. There are many disturbing details in this novel and the details can often be gory, so take caution and consider if this is a read you want to put yourself through by checking the warnings online.

The narrative style feels cold and moody in the best way possible, further highlighting the attitude of the characters, the gloomy setting, and the brutality of the killings. One of my favourite elements of the setting is the seasonal description, which moves the narrative from a nostalgic, child-like autumn to the sickening, lethal chill of winter across the span of an eventful, action-packed October. There is enough time to let the ebb and flow of tension follow the action without feeling forced while also keeping the timeframe realistic and engaging.

I don’t mind saying there are several characters I despise with an avid fury in The Chestnut Man, some of which I previously didn’t mind. They just had to say, think or do something during their narrative perspective to make me genuinely hate them. Sexual objectification of women and casual sexism directed at women are rife in this novel, and I started getting sick of seeing the same personalities come through in multiple characters. The number of men who fantasised about having an affair with a woman nearby is almost as many as the number of victims across the entire book. Maybe this would have worked better on-screen as the visual contrast between these characters would lessen the identical feel of the monologues, but I highly doubt it.

While we’re on the note of things I didn’t like about this book, I need to mention something about these darker crime thrillers, so let me quickly say SPOILERS AHEAD. These books can be incredibly immersive and acutely detailed, and the narrative can have many believable perspectives, conflicts and character interactions that echo real life. One thing that irks me about these dark crime thrillers is that the driving force behind the “villain” is often a horrible childhood with serious trauma and emotional distress, leading to a psychopathic rebirth, or worse, resulting in Dissociative Identity Disorder, which is then villainised and demonised. While the novel doesn’t go this far in labelling their killer with a mental illness, several characters are noted as having a mental illness. Does having a mental illness make someone a bad person? Absolutely not. Mental illness is not an indicator of a bad person, nor should it continue to be used in such a way. The reality is that mental illness already has negative connotations, and in many people’s eyes, overshadows other aspects of their situation which would shape their behaviour and understanding.

The Chestnut Man is an incredible book, but there are elements that bring it down in my eyes. I hope that the next instalment in the series carries less sexism, less dehumanisation toward those with mental illness, and overall a less ignorant touch to the multiple perspectives.