Many of the descriptions and accolades for A Man Called Ove include the words "charming," "quirky," and "delightful." I must admit that when I started reading the book, I didn't see a single one of these things. But like most things, you have to soldier on to get the full appreciation and just let the story unfold.
Ove is an curmudgeonly, crotchety old man who despises most things in life, especially people who don't follow rules, people who don't know how to fix things, and things that lack systematic order and organization. He doesn't identify with much of modern life, and after the recent death of his wife and loss of his job, there doesn't seem to be much worth living for. That is until his new pregnant neighbor and her husband (and kids), force their way into his life, casually dismissing the unfriendly persona. Little by little, many of the other cast of characters living in Ove's neighborhood (including a cat) also kick open the door to being a part of his life, very much against Ove's will. But some sense of duty and obligation to do what is "right" in Ove's eyes, keeps him helping the various members of this motley crew. And maybe he ends up finding much more in his twilight years than certainly he ever asked for.
The book certainly did make me smile. And it was very heart-warming in the end. I just had to stick through the beginning. Because curmudgeonly types are characters I'm not a fan of (or even real people...not those that I 'get' in any way). So I did struggle with having any sympathy for him. But he's such a unique and complicated character that is unfolded so slowly and deliberately throughout the story through the events that occurring in the present time as well as revealing stories about his entire life (from childhood, to his marriage, to his time spent living in the current neighborhood).
So if you want a quick, delightful read that will make you happy that there could be unique versions of community and family out there, A Man Called Ove should certainly be at the top of that list. There was also one particular passage that I just loved and I had to earmark:
" 'Loving someone is like moving into a house,' Sonja used to say. 'At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren't actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it's cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home.' "
And so, back to the book lists. A couple months ago, the bf and I went to the 4-floor used book store here in Detroit and stocked up on books to survive what clearly is going to be a horrible, horrible winter. So I'm starting to dig into the pile of 8 books that we bought that day (to add onto the 8 other books that I already had waiting in the wings). Everything I bought were books from the lists, so I should be set to hunker down and escape the terrible things going on in the world. Next up is This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald. The only book I have read of his was The Great Gatsby and I read it back in high school (never saw the movie either). So I'm looking forward to re-acquainting myself with him and his writing, as, similar to Hemingway, I feel like I've heard/learned more about his persona over the years than his actual writing.
Happy reading. And hanging on through the end of this wretched year.
