For some reason Jar City (by Arnaldur Indriðason) caught my eye precisely because it wasn’t the type of book I’d normally really. I hadn’t read any Icelandic books before. And I don’t generally read murder mysteries.
But I was really impressed. It was an extra bonus that the translator (Icelandic > English) very helpfully provided extra information to clarify Icelandic naming customs. This was relevant to the plot. I’m not generally keen on endless descriptive paragraphs in novels but this book had just the right amount for me to actually feel like I was in Iceland whilst reading it.