New Books in German talks with bestselling and award-winning author Joachim B. Schmidt about his writing career, the role of writing in integrating into a new society, and how crime fiction can be used for social critique.
Bestselling and award-winning author Joachim B. Schmidt grew up in Switzerland before moving to Iceland, where he now lives with his family in Reykjavik. He has written several novels, two of which have attracted the attention of the New Books in German jury and been selected for guaranteed translation funding.
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Sarah Hemens, Project Director of New Books In German, was thrilled to have the opportunity to speak with him towards the end of 2024. Their conversation covered his writing career, the role of writing in integrating into a new society, and how crime fiction can be used for social critique. They concluded by discussing his forthcoming novel Ósmann, about a real-life ferryman who lived in Iceland 100 years ago.
Sarah Hemens/New Books In German: Could you tell me a little bit about your background as a writer – was it something that you always wanted to do, that you always felt drawn to?
Joachim B. Schmidt: As I look back I realise that I've been always been drawn to books - and to writing and reading as well. My mother always read books to us as children and I think that had a big influence.
However, I only realised that I had so many stories in me when I moved to Iceland – by which I mean the first year I spent in Iceland, a test year, 2003. This was a dream come true for me as I’d been gradually falling in love with the country for a while. I eventually moved there permanently in 2007. During the winter of 2003, I was working on a farm. I was happy to be in Iceland, but at the same time I was lonely and homesick. I felt a huge urge to write. I told myself I was going to try to write a book- just for fun, but also to escape the loneliness of the farm. I sat down, and by the end of that winter, I had finished a whole book. It was never published, it wasn’t good enough, but I discovered my passion for writing. I wrote another book, and then another, until I finally found a publisher and the response was really good. The sales, less so, but I just kept on writing. I couldn't stop.
I did a lot of odd jobs and just kept writing and publishing until Kalmann came along. That felt like a real breakthrough; I could consider myself a ‘proper’ writer with an income. I’d been working as a tourist guide and completed a course in tourism in 2020 just before the pandemic hit. Tourism ground to a halt, pushing me further into my writing. By that point I had Kalmann in my back pocket and a publishing contract with Diogenes. I enjoy writing so much and I have never looked back.
It won’t surprise you that I want to ask about how life in Iceland has shaped your writing. But you mentioned homesickness for Switzerland - has living in Iceland and writing about life in that country enabled you to look at or appreciate Switzerland in a different way?
I was young when I left and Switzerland is in many ways a conservative country, so there was a lot for me to be frustrated by. Once I moved to Iceland and could look back from a distance, I saw everything in a new light, of course. I understood how strong my roots are in Switzerland, how Swiss I am, how hard it is to shake this punctual guy who takes everything a little bit too seriously. I'm happy and proud to be Swiss abroad. I often go back to Switzerland due to my writing, and every time, it feels like coming home. But after a couple of weeks of being on the mainland in Europe, I start missing Iceland and realise it’s time for my other home. I’m between two worlds, and I like that.
Did you set out to explore any societal or cultural issues in your adopted country through your writing? What have you learned about Iceland through your writing? I am thinking particularly about the two Kalmann novels here.
I think that writing novels set in Iceland was a way of integrating myself, a way of trying to study and understand the quirky people of Iceland, both in the city and out in the countryside. But the Kalmann books went a step further. By the time I wrote those books, I was fully integrated into Icelandic society. I had citizenship. I started to get a little more critical of the politics, for example in the first Kalmann book there’s a little bit about the fishing quota system in Iceland, which essentially destroyed many small fishing communities overnight. Raufarhöfn, the village where the story is set, has gone through this shock, this loss of its reason to exist. Lots of the villagers moved away; the ones left behind, the more stubborn ones, are happy to still be there and are trying to make it work somehow. I’d intended to write a depressing Icelandic noir crime story. Once the research was underway, and I was making visits to Raufarhöfn and meeting a lot of the friendly people who lived there, it became clear that things were not going to work out as planned. Instead of my gritty noir I wrote a novel with a humorous edge, more of a study of these warm and lovely people.
Instead of my gritty noir I wrote a novel with a humorous edge, more of a study of these warm and lovely people. - Joachim B. Schmidt
What do the people of Raufarhöfn make of the Kalmann books?
When I was writing Kalmann, I wasn't even sure if it would be published in German, let alone translated into Icelandic. Once the translation was announced I did have a few sleepless nights if I’m honest! But then the book came out and people were happy with it. The villagers were delighted to see their scenery, their village, as the backdrop for a fictional work. They liked the sheriff character Kalmann. When I was back in Raufarhöfn researching the second book I did some readings up there too. It warmed me to see that Kalmann has become part of Raufarhöfn society.
Yes, you have really put the village on the map!
I was really trying to find a place that that gets left out a lot, that is forgotten, really.
Maybe a tour operator will put together a Kalmann tour of Iceland?
Yes, although I often get emails from people telling me they want to see Raufarhöfn for themselves, but then a follow up message saying they’ve realised it is too far out of their way and they don’t quite have time to fit it in.
What about the UK reception of Kalmann?
The reaction has been positive. The challenge is to make people aware of the book and get them reading it. Once they do that, they really enjoy it. Bitter Lemon Press went on to publish the second Kalmann novel – we know that the appetite is there. We really want to spread the word - a hero like Kalmann doesn’t come along very often.
We really want to spread the word – a hero like Kalmann doesn’t come along very often. - Joachim B. Schmidt
Since you have mentioned our hero Kalmann, perhaps you could talk a little about him for the benefit of those who haven’t read the books?
Kalmann is a very special character, to say the least. Some might say he is neurodivergent, but he’s not really diagnosed with anything. I left it open very deliberately as I was really focused on not making that the main theme of the book – he could be on the autism spectrum, or maybe have a learning disability, or Downs syndrome. He’s just Kalmann.
He's a bit different to everyone else. He sees himself as the sheriff of the village: he carries an antique gun and wears his cowboy hat along with a sheriff star. These items were left behind by his American father who was stationed for a while in Iceland on an army base. The father returned to America, having never connected with his son. Through these items we see how important it is for Kalmann to have a father figure in his life – he finds that figure in his maternal grandfather, with whom he has a very close relationship. By the second book, the grandfather is much older, starting to get confused and forgetful. Kalmann needs to learn to stand on his own two feet. In the first book, a local hotel owner has gone missing, leaving behind only blood in the snow. The police and media arrive, along with search and rescue teams. Kalmann’s simple life is upended. He’s catapulted into adventures and has to prove himself to be the hero we want him to be. It’s also worth mentioning that Kalmann is a shark hunter who makes fermented shark meat – so you would smell him coming!
Do you plot the books quite tightly before you start writing?
It was only after starting to write the first book that I realised Kalmann was the hero and the most interesting person for both writer and reader to follow. I needed to shift my initial ideas for the plot as I moved Kalmann to centre stage. When it came to the second book, Kalmann and other characters were already well established. I was keen to explore Kalmann’s background, his relationship with both his mother and father. I worked out a plot structure that would allow me to do this, before starting to write. I knew much more where I was going.
You’d written several other books first. Did you want to see if you could write a crime novel, or did you think it might be an especially useful lens for looking at Icelandic society?
I wanted to write an Icelandic crime novel - and I quickly realised it was harder than I imagined! You have to do a lot of research for this type of novel. And I was just so interested in Kalmann and the villagers and all the other threads of the story. As a crime writer you have to balance that with a focus on revealing the plot. With the Kalmann books there is the crime element, but also the portrait of the people in the village. Writing crime novels really is an art. It is also an effective way of writing about injustice, or critiquing society, you know, shining a light on things that are not as they should be, so I fell in love with the genre.
Moving on to your retelling of the William Tell myth, which was chosen by the New Books in German jury as suitable for translation into English. What prompted you to write that book?
It was a story I had thought about a lot. I love the legend of Wilhelm Tell, a story our father often told us when we were children. It is a story that has been told so many times, especially in the theatre, but each time I came across a new version I was somehow disappointed. They never matched what was in my mind when I heard the story. They lacked the urgency, the violence and the drama that I was really hoping for. I had been thinking about a really good, proper retelling of the legend but in novel form and after Kalmann came out and was a success, I thought it would be a good time to write one.
I didn’t want to fall into the trap of being known for one sort of book. I didn’t want to be labelled as ‘the crime writer’, or ‘the guy who writes stories set in Iceland’. In writing Tell and having it published by Diogenes, I was trying to open different doors.
My last question today is about your newest book, Ósmann. Could tell me a little bit about that, please?
It was something I’d never done before. You could say I’d written about a historical figure previously, with Tell, but we’re not really sure he ever existed! Ósmann, however, definitely did exist, just over 100 years ago. He was a ferryman in the north of Iceland. Ósmann had quite a dramatic and tough life, but a full life, replete with joy and music and poetry. He was tall and strong, a larger-than-life person. I came across him for the first time when I was learning about Iceland as part of my training to become a tour guide. The statue commemorating him and what happened to him could easily be missed - you’d never realise what his story was. My interest in him developed far beyond the five lines covered by the course notes. It sounds like a spoiler - but it’s common knowledge here in Iceland – that Ósmann killed himself in the end, in the same river that that he ferried people over for 40 years, and that really landed with me. Why did this man who seemed to be so strong kill himself right there in the same place where he had worked to prevent so many others from drowning? Essentially if you didn’t take his ferry you would need to make your own way across the river, which often ended badly. I did huge amount of research and a lot of reading and met lots of people. I was fully immersed in Ósmann. What has come out is historically accurate, although I did give myself the freedom to fill in the blanks. The book really goes deeply into the subject and I can’t wait to see it published.
Read more about New Books in German recommended Kalmann and Tell, and visit Bitter Lemon Press to find out more about both Joachim’s Kalmann books in English translation.
Find out about Joachim’s latest book, Ósmann, here.
Working on the Kalmann books has been so much fun! They are incredibly well written (I love the fact that Kalmann was actually a minor character in the author’s first draft, but the self-proclaimed sheriff swiftly let Joachim know he was destined for greater things!). And I hope these two books are just the start of a long-lasting series. It was important to find the right voice for Kalmann, to ensure his neurodiversity is celebrated, but in truth this came easily because Joachim had already captured this perfectly – the humour in the book never comes from laughing at Kalmann, but rather the realisation that his view of the world is often more logical than that of those around him. There weren’t many queries to check with Joachim, primarily details on Icelandic food or the landscape, but we’ve managed to build up a lovely working relationship regardless, and send each other updates on our mutual friend, the sheriff. - Translator Jamie Lee Searle