Based on real events, Ann-Helén Laestadius’s debut novel for adults highlights the discrimination Sweden’s ethnic minority Sami have suffered over the years for their determination to pursue a traditional lifestyle as reindeer herders. In the course of her research, Laestadius, of mixed Sami heritage herself, consulted more than 100 police reports of killed and maimed reindeer, none of which resulted in prosecution.
Nine-year-old Elsa lives in a village just inside the Arctic Circle. Her family belongs to a collective founded on firm ties of kinship, Sami ancestry being recorded in prized archives. Life is structured around the cycles of animal husbandry, but the reindeer are far more than just a source of meat and pride. The title is pointed; when non-Sami hunters begin torturing and mutilating the precious animals, the local police force refuse to register the crimes as anything more than theft. They have more pressing matters to investigate, but for the Sami such attacks threaten their very existence.
In the winter of 2008, Elsa witnesses a hunter in the act of killing her own reindeer calf, Nástegallu. Silencing her with a threatening gesture, he drops the calf’s severed ear and slouches off. Elsa is too terrified to reveal his name, though her father and brother suspect an embittered local drunkard, Robert Isaksson. As usual, the case is shelved, but the trauma haunts Elsa through to adulthood, when the man’s continued malice towards the Sami impels events to a bloody, unexpected climax.
The opening section is written in a light and simple style, to give the perspective of a young girl. The plot is peppered with the routines, beliefs, crafts and lore of the herders. The clipped ears of each year’s calves are strung together on a thread to symbolise their unity. Nástegallu’s, treasured in secret by the girl, become a magical talisman to be carried everywhere, but she is also influenced by her grandfather’s Christian faith. Terrified of hellfire and unable to lie when questioned directly, her only refuge is silence.
As well as the conflict between traditional beliefs, Christianity and modernity, Laestadius touches on mental health crises and high suicide rates among the Sami, racist bullying in schools, global heating – a particular threat to the nature-dependent herders – and neighbours’ complaints that the Sami are too favourably treated by the Swedish government, receiving grant aid to maintain their supposedly natural lifestyle. The free-running reindeer are seen as a perpetual menace, especially on the roads.
Sexist attitudes among the Sami themselves mean that women and girls are not expected to take leading roles in the collective or ownership of herds, which is tough on Elsa, who is more committed to the lifestyle than her elder brother Mattias. As Isaksson’s predations take on more insane forms, Laestadius takes care to present him as troubled as well as troublesome, the product of an abusive father and runaway mother. The arrival of a young police officer who finally takes the Samis’ concerns seriously propels the plot into classic Nordic noir territory; it’s no surprise a Netflix film is forthcoming. You can already see the blood and antlers on the snow, and hear the ominous roar of approaching snowmobiles, the sudden crack of a rifle shot.
Stolen by Ann-Helén Laestadius, translated by Rachel Willson-Broyles, is published by Bloomsbury (£16.99). To support the Guardian and the Observer buy a copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
