A Man Called Ove: Fredrik Backman

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At first one friend read it, and praised it. Then another read it, and raved about it. Then another and another, until it seemed like everyone I knew had read this book and loved it. Of course I had to read it.

Ove is an irascible old man. He dislikes his neighbors, makes daily inspections of the neighborhood to ensure that nobody is exceeding car parking slot timings or parking bicycles where they should not be parked. He’s just been ‘retired’ from his job, and has an over-friendly ‘foreign’ neighbor move in next door.

Now everything had to be computerized, as if one couldn’t build a house until some consultant in a too-small shirt figured out how to open a laptop. As if that was how they built the Colosseum and the pyramids of Giza. Christ, they’d managed to build the Eiffel Tower in 1889, but nowadays one couldn’t come up with the bloody drawings for a one-story house without taking a break for someone to run off and recharge their cell phone.

We all know someone like Ove – a cranky old man who dislikes everything in the world because of the faults he finds with it. But every Ove has a Sonja, one person he likes despite all the things he cannot fathom about her, one person that keeps him going, one person he doesn’t know life without. Ove and Sonja’s story is the warm heart of the book, that brings a smile to your face, while Ove’s story is the comic heart, which makes you laugh out loud. Ove and his idiosyncrasies were delightfully written, and I had a grin throughout my reading of the book, which incidentally I read in one sitting. Possibly one of the best books I have read this year.

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