Review: A Man Called Ove

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Oh I did love this! Translated from the Swedish, it's the story of a grumpy old curmudgeon, recently widowed, who likes to live within his particular (clearly spectrum-based) comfort zone and has no time for nosey bastards or those who refuse to obey the rules and haven't a clue how to repair a bicycle.
Ove's wife is the only one who ever really understood him, and following the double blows or widowhood and redundancy he feels that a life spent knocking around the house without her just isn't worth living. However his attempts to end it all are constantly being interrupted by importunate neighbours in need of some sort of help (borrowing ladders, cadging lifts to the hospital, expecting him to fix their radiators, bicycles, love lives etc) - and the more he tries to keep the world at arm's length, the more human kindness insists on encroaching.
I defy you not to be in tears by the end. It's another five stars from me, I'm afraid.



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