It has been a long-held theory of mine that eventually us men all turn into a cross between Victor Meldrew and Basil Fawlty. Grumpy, set in our ways and reactionary.
Unbeknown to ourselves, slowly we become these grumpy old men who desperately want to control a world we can no longer understand. People constantly live down to our expectations. This makes us:
- Give out about the younger generation.
- Say that it was never like this in the old days.
- Wish that things went back to the way they were.
- Rant and rave about the way people drive in the wrong lane on the motorway, and then we do it ourselves!
We are frustrated to find that the world just isn’t what it was cracked up to be. And WE CAN’T CHANGE IT!
And so, at Dublin Airport a while back, (in the days when we could use airports!) I picked up a book with the following blurb on the back cover….
“Ove is certainly the grumpiest man you will ever meet. He thinks himself surrounded by idiots….” And so on…. I was hooked.
That one paragraph on the back cover convinced me that I would enjoy this book which, let’s face it, had obviously been written about me.
I was just about to enter the world of Fredrick Backman, thanks to “A Man Called Ove.”
Now I am no literary critic and wouldn’t want to be, but “A Man Called Ove” grabbed me in a way no book has for a very long time. A few pages in I forgot all about the “me” element, I got lost in the beautifully written story.
Yes, Mr Backman did capture the frustration of a man of a certain age, but the originality of the writing and brilliant unpeeling of the plot drew me deep into Ove’s world.
I will say no more about the story, because you just have to read it yourself, maybe you already have? But I was so happy to have discovered a new hero in Mr. Backman.
But I will risk one plot spoiler. “Ove is Grumpier than Me”. Just saying, for the record.
More, More, More
I subsequently bought and read Fredrick Backman’s “Beartown”, and “Britte-Marie was Here” and found that “Ove” was no fluke. I had discovered a unique and brilliant writer. “Britte-Marie” was maybe as good as “Ove”. “Beartown” was different but very readable and very good, in my humble opinion.
I am excitedly awaiting the delivery of Mr. Backman’s novel “My Grandmother, sends her regards and Apologises,” what a fabulous title.
Isn’t it great to find a new hero, a hidden gem, a little twist in the road? I love the originality and style of Fredrick Backman; he is a great standard to aspire to.
For a while I feel less grumpy.
I am less of an Ove for reading Ove.
Footnote
Obviously, I am not trying to claim to have discovered Fredrick Backman with a capital “D”. I know there are publishers and literary agents and editors who do/did that.
And I know loads of other people have read his books before I did.
But I discovered him for me, and this is a great time to find a good book to read.