Crosswind (2024)

A deeply moving story of love, loss, and the power of forgiveness, perfect for readers seeking an emotional and heartfelt journey.

In the dead of night, Askur, a man in his mid-twenties, hitchhikes away from a life filled with fear, shame, and broken relationships. His mother, once a rising political star, awaits his arrival at the airport, unaware of his plans to leave everything behind. 

As memories flood back, Askur recalls his first trip with his girlfriend, Gyda, and the warmth of her grandmother’s home. Haunted by the secret, which tore their family apart, Askur’s journey leads him to confront his past and seek forgiveness from those he wronged. In a twist of fate, his mother races to find him, and together they face their shared shame. In this poignant moment, they begin to rebuild their fragile relationship.

R E V I E W S

“Crosswind could be described as a "poppy" novel that, like the sweetest pop song, tugs at the heartstrings while painting vivid, relatable images. The story is also particularly visual, making it easy to picture the colorful sequence of events. When the story begins, Askur is ready to start over, escape the relentless Icelandic wind, and find calm in his life. But no matter where he goes, his thoughts inevitably drift back to his mother, whom he hasn’t seen in over a decade—not since she moved to Spain, leaving both him and his father behind. Where exactly Askur is heading on his journey remains a mystery at first, as does why he can't bring himself to pick his mother up at the airport. What really happened back then? And what is he running from, hitchhiking alone? The answers lie in the past, and the story alternates between the present and past to uncover them.

If you listen closely, you can hear the wind whistling throughout the narrative, sometimes softly, sometimes forcefully. At the start, there is calm, but as the story progresses, the wind picks up and intensifies, culminating in a howling gale at the climax. The wind becomes a sort of soundtrack for the story, reflecting its structure while serving as a metaphor for Askur’s emotions. Askur himself describes the wind as a "draft between people," referring to the stormy relationships he has with those closest to him (p. 157). The wind is "like a gust that blows through when we open and close ourselves in turn, letting out what stirs within us" (p. 157). It represents everything that exists between us—the spoken and the unspoken, the things left unsaid that reside in silence.

The imagery in the story, which revolves around the wind, is both original and refreshing. The most intense gusts hit the reader with great force, and they are uniquely Icelandic and unmistakable. Aren’t we all, after all, always waiting for the calm? Don’t we all long to find shelter from the eternal wind? It is also worth noting how the play on wind gives the story a striking auditory and rhythmic quality.