The King and the Clockmaker (2021)

FOUR AND A HALF STARS “THE CUCKOO’S EGG & THE LAW OF TIME. You don’t have to read many pages of The King and the Clockmaker, the new novel from Arnaldur Indridason, before you get to the death, an execution even — the watchmaker Jon Sivertsen explains that the King of Denmark had his father beheaded “innocent of fornication and paternity fraud,” along with his housekeeper, no less innocent according to Jon, though she was drowned in, suffice it to say, a rather cruel manner. Fans of Arnaldur’s books have read through their fair share of death scenes, and not been disappointed, though within the idiom of the crime novel, and as everyone knows the author has met with much popularity and success in the genre. But it is now the case that, although we’re reading about the executions mentioned above, this is certainly not the crime novel Arnaldur puts out every year but rather a work of classic historical fiction, gripping, insightful and exceedingly well told. The King and the Clockmaker summons historical worlds and figures that Icelandic and Danish writers have turned to quite often of late. The story unfolds around 1800, while also retelling events that happened several decades prior in the southern Westfjords, where we encounter historical figures like the poet Egill Olafsson and Reverend Björn í Saudlauksdal in addition to the author’s fictionalized characters. The other thread of the story takes place in Copenhagen where Jon Sivertsen has the arduous and nearly hopeless task of repairing, in Christiansborg Palace itself, the residence of the king, its grand, old timepiece, an astronomical clock. The king at the time was the mentally ill Christian the VII. LIfe in the court during that time has been well recorded in books and film, including the influence of the king’s private physician Struensee, who served for some time as the de facto regent of the country before he was executed. Most sources agree that Struensee was in actuality the real father of the royal couple’s only daughter, though the king was known for his debauchery and womanizing, including the concubine he notoriously kept outside the palace. Other historical figures make appearances as well, including Bertel Thorvaldsen. The story is told with a familiar and practiced voice, which is masterfully done. People from different walks of life are thrown together in the story, leading, as one might expect, to tensions between the characters and all kinds of misunderstandings; one tells the other a story, which proves difficult — and it doesn't help that the listener is not just the monarch but also mentally ill. Over time we see a connection form, along with sympathy and understanding. The fates of these characters are played with in such a dramatic way that the reader gets swept up in it as well. Jon Sivertsen is an aging widower, who, at a young age, managed to escape the destitution of Iceland, propelled by the ingenious inventions introduced to him by Eggert Olafsson, and has spent his life as a watchmaker in the country’s capital city. As the story opens, just as Jon has undertaken the formidable task of repairing the badly damaged clock in the palace storerooms, the king comes upon him for the first time and is unable to grasp what he is working on. It’s not until their second meeting that the king asks Jon about himself, and it is revealed that his father and the mother of his father’s child have been executed — innocent, according to Jon — and by decree of the former king, Christian’s father. From that point on the third-person narrative alternates between Jon speaking with the king and the events half a century earlier when Jon was growing up in the Westfjords. Jón’s father was one of the victims when the Storidomur [a brutal set of laws meant to enforce moral behavior] was passed in Iceland. Arnaldur writes a compelling portrayal of the defenseless underclass of the time, how those in power oppressed them until life was hardly worth living. Arnaldur’s crime novels stand as reminders of how adept he is at working with all kinds of historical source material and using them to create an integral and credible part of a story’s structural framework. But in this novel his skill is put on display like never before. The settings are compelling and fully realized, whether we are in some bedraggled shack in the Westfjords, a brothel or a palace in Copenhagen. Another feature of Arnaldur’s work has been his reliable characterizations and skillful dialogue — and both are exceptionally well done here. The language has an archaic tilt, which suits a story meant to take place two hundred years ago. And the storyline overall has been elegantly shaped. At the center of the narrative sits the damaged mechanism, the clock, as an emblem of time. And no wonder that one of the story’s central subjects is time and the effect it has on, for example, memories and experiences. Jon Sivertsen also tries to get time moving forward again all while dragging the reader — and the king — back into the past. And his experiments with “the law of time” are captivating for a reader. The anatomical clock, Habrecht’s remarkable clock from 1594, actually exists and is on display at Rosenborg Castle. It’s a sure bet that many readers of The King and the Clockmaker will visit to see the historical wonder for themselves.” Einar Falur Ingólfsson, Morgunbladid daily