The dual timeline allows the author to weave in rich details of Basque mythology, ancient burial practices, and pre-Roman rituals without stopping the modern plot. The past timeline provides the cultural keys needed to decode the present murders.
The narrative begins with a chilling discovery: two naked bodies, a man and a woman, are found in the crypt of the . Their poses mimic a series of murders that terrified the city twenty years prior—crimes for which a brilliant archaeologist, Tasio Ortiz de Zárate , was convicted.
The novel exploded onto the international scene, translated into over fifteen languages and adapted into a feature film in 2019 (directed by Daniel Calparsoro). Yet, its success does not hinge on gore or speed. It hinges on place . For the uninitiated, "the white city" refers to Vitoria-Gasteiz’s historic old quarter, the Casco Medieval , built from distinctive pale limestone that glows under the Basque sun and turns ghostly silver under the moon. El silencio de la ciudad blanca.
The story revolves around the crumbling Romanesque and Gothic churches of the city. Ancient stones have witnessed centuries of life, death, and ritual. The silence inside a medieval cathedral is not empty; it is heavy with accumulated history. Sáenz de Urturi weaponizes this by placing modern murders inside these ancient hollows. The killer uses the city’s silence as an accomplice, muffling the screams of victims within thick walls built for the Middle Ages.
Furthermore, the novel taps into the romantic ruin aesthetic. We are fascinated by old things that refuse to die. The white city is a repository of collective memory. The killer tries to use that memory for evil; Kraken uses it for good. The novel argues that we cannot silence the past; we can only learn to listen to it correctly. The dual timeline allows the author to weave
that revitalizes Vitoria-Gasteiz by intertwining the precision of criminal profiling with the ancestral weight of ritualistic traditions, suggesting that the city's past is never truly buried. Key Areas for Development The Protagonist's Archetype: Kraken
The trilogy has done for Vitoria what The Name of the Rose did for medieval monasteries: it has turned a specific, quiet place into a universal symbol of mystery. Their poses mimic a series of murders that
Literary critics often debate whether a setting can truly be a character. In this case, there is no debate. The white city is the victim, the witness, and the tomb.