In answer to your questions:
Got interested when I married a Norwegian (with a good chunk of Danish mixed in) and was firmly taken in hand when I naively mused out loud about “Scandinavian” culture to my in laws. Apparently thinking a Norwegian is the same as a Swede and/or a Dane is like saying Americans and Canadians are the same (or a Scot and a Brit—or a German and an Austrian for that matter). My knuckles were firmly rapped; apparently, their woodpiles are even stacked differently—a finer distinction to which I was duly alerted.
I enjoy Nordic Noir because it’s fun spotting the difference between the Scandinavian cultures as depicted in the various series, but, mostly because the characters are allowed to have “baggage” which renders them fallible and prone to misjudgments and moral quandaries.
As for my outsider impressions of the Scandinavian countries that I’ve spent some time in (and which would no doubt be hotly contested by my relatives), here goes:
Danes like things to be comfortable. The “hygge” mania (birthed in the mind of a clever English writer) stems from that desire for “niceness” in one’s surroundings, relationships, and interactions to keep those melancholic tendancies in check (see the prototype “melancholic Dane”—Hamlet). Danish design is based on this philosophy of “it should be nice to look at as well serve a function”—an aesthetic which applies to people, by the way, as well as household goods. Food is taken seriously, and mealtime is important; even very young children are meticulously trained in proper table etiquette so both youngest and oldest family members can eat together in harmony. Candles and fresh flowers are also important because they make things “nice”. Diversity is fine as long as it isn’t disruptive; if it becomes belligerent, it is countered by a double dose of “niceness” so the person capitulates or is smothered. In either case, harmony and comfort are restored.
Norwegians are connected to the land. They love to be out in it, to embrace it, and to experience it in the depth of their souls. They very much believe in equality—both in a tangible and intangible sense—and a mystical interconnectiveness of land, sea, and spirit. They keep darkness away by being active. Going for a long hike/ski in the woods, regardless of the weather, is a solution for almost any crisis. Drinking toasts and telling stories, by men and women, is also important—eating is optional but may be necessary if the night is long. Being resilient and resourceful is applauded, even if the end result may be mixed. I adore Norwegian men, but, then, I’m prejudiced.
Swedes are orderly. They like the structure of the hive, but without being told directly how to do something. Swedes can be amazingly open and appallingly stubborn at the same time. They tend to get morose when left alone too long by themselves. Their insular and introspective tendencies are mitigated by sunlight. That's why the best Swedish Noir films and TV series are shot in low light—makes for lots of soul-searching looks, minimal dialogue, and grey landscape as the hero/heroine needs to sort out his/her internal conflicts.
My Scandinavian in-laws would most likely strenuously disagree with my observations, but, hey, I’m just a Canuck girl who wanders around trying to make sense of what she sees.
