Fredrik Backman's "A Man Called Ove"...A Book Review

My mother-in-law loaned me a book a few weeks ago. "Read it," she said. "It's good." My mother-in-law has pretty good taste in books so a recommendation from her goes a long way. I finished the book yesterday--I even read the book as I walked from the train to my car as I maneuvered flights of stairs and fellow commuters walking by me. I was so close and the book was so good.

Who'd have thought as story about a recently-unemployed widow who tried again and again to kill himself could be so delightful?

But it was!

I'd never hear do Fredrik Backman, a Swede who wrote A Man Called Ove, and other novels. I doubt I'll easily forget either him or his book anytime soon. A Man Called Ove centers around a man by the name of Ove. When I first saw the title, I thought it was a play on "Love" and how this man may be lacking something that keeps love from his reach. As I began reading I realized it's from Scandinavia and they have somewhat different names than we have in America.

However, as I read deep into the story, there's something to my original thought. Ove is completely original. A grumpy man, he faces a life without his wife and his job, things he's relied upon for decades. Perhaps it's because I'm closer to Ove's age than the twenty-somethings in the story, but I identified with Ove, rooted for him, understood him, felt his pain. Plus, you throw in a rescued cat and Ove becomes someone everyone champions. In short, there's a little Ove (and, in some cases, a lot of Ove...) in all of us.

The book's voice is conversational, personal, human. We're introduced to those who enters Ove's life at a comfortable pace, and we get to love them as well. It's amazing how Backman makes us care so much for someone who is so unlikable.

If you get an opportunity, give A Man Called Ove a chance. You'll be surprised at how much you like it, too.