Wednesday, 16 August 2023 08:23 pm
Book Review: A Man Called Ove
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deckardcanineYears ago, I had my doubts about enjoying this Fredric Backman book. I guess last year's Hollywood adaptation, A Man Called Otto, which I haven't seen, inspired me to give it a go. If Tom Hanks plays the protagonist, how unlovable could he be?
Age 59 may not sound "old" to you, but Ove is a quintessential grumpy old man, having been one at heart since young adulthood. Lately, he has more reason for it: His wife, Sonja, died of cancer, and his company has pushed retirement on him. Not knowing what to do with himself in a world where he basically hates everyone, including God, he prepares for suicide. But between plain luck and desperate neighbors in need, he keeps postponing it. After all, in an era when few people know practical skills like radiator repair, who else will step up?
I would not care to meet Ove. He has a low opinion of everyone different from himself -- not in a traditional bigoted way so much as for their choices (e.g., car model) -- and even sometimes gets annoyed by people doing what he does. He makes himself out to be no-nonsense, but he has his own irrational if not superstitious behaviors. He's a nightmare to customer service. He left the HOA after they voted in a leader slightly less rigid than himself. While laconic, almost everything he says is insulting or accusatory, and he never admits to liking anyone still alive. And then he has the gall to deny being rude and unfriendly. (There is a nonzero chance I'll become like him someday.)
I have to wonder what he saw in Sonja and vice versa. They have nothing obvious in common. Nonetheless, they never fall out of love, and half the time when he does a good deed or abstains from a bad one, he thinks about how she would react. Some people are civil to Ove primarily because Sonja was a saint to them.
So who depends on him now? Most prominent is a pregnant Iranian immigrant who readily agrees that her husband lacks motor competence. Her young daughters quickly grow fond of Ove for reasons he'd never have guessed. His senile former friend, Rune, is about to be sent to a nursing home against Rune's wife's wishes (one of several signs that Sweden works differently). And a heretofore obnoxious feral cat who nearly perishes in the cold comes to regard him as a sort of master. Ove perceives a practically human level of understanding in the cat.
Almost every short chapter has a title that starts with "A Man Called Ove" or "A Man Who Was Ove," depending on whether it's set in the present. The flashbacks gradually reveal a bit about how he got this way, not least his enmity toward "men in white shirts." We often get hints well ahead of a full revelation, which may suggest his reluctance to dwell on the details.
Indeed, if the narration style is any indication, Ove rarely thinks of anyone else, even Sonja, by name. He does more often in later chapters, which is especially important when more people are a part of his life. At the same time, I'm not convinced that the narrator always represents Ove's own attitude; some of the "as if" clauses appear to ridicule him, and he's not one for self-deprecation.
Considering how I couldn't get into A Confederacy of Dunces because of the misanthropic protagonist, what made AMCO a winner for me? Well, Ove's redeeming values become apparent faster. He's no lazy loser; he takes pride in honest work. Half his complaints are respectable. And the story presents a fair mix of humorous and heartwarming.
Turns out I actually like this better than My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry. I now plan to take a chance on Britt-Marie Was Here, whose first two chapters I dared to read at the back. I won't read the rest right away, tho. Backman sure has a thing for socially challenged folk who don't realize they come across as jerks.
For now, I've picked up Lois McMaster Bujold's Falling Free. It hasn't taken long to get interesting.
Age 59 may not sound "old" to you, but Ove is a quintessential grumpy old man, having been one at heart since young adulthood. Lately, he has more reason for it: His wife, Sonja, died of cancer, and his company has pushed retirement on him. Not knowing what to do with himself in a world where he basically hates everyone, including God, he prepares for suicide. But between plain luck and desperate neighbors in need, he keeps postponing it. After all, in an era when few people know practical skills like radiator repair, who else will step up?
I would not care to meet Ove. He has a low opinion of everyone different from himself -- not in a traditional bigoted way so much as for their choices (e.g., car model) -- and even sometimes gets annoyed by people doing what he does. He makes himself out to be no-nonsense, but he has his own irrational if not superstitious behaviors. He's a nightmare to customer service. He left the HOA after they voted in a leader slightly less rigid than himself. While laconic, almost everything he says is insulting or accusatory, and he never admits to liking anyone still alive. And then he has the gall to deny being rude and unfriendly. (There is a nonzero chance I'll become like him someday.)
I have to wonder what he saw in Sonja and vice versa. They have nothing obvious in common. Nonetheless, they never fall out of love, and half the time when he does a good deed or abstains from a bad one, he thinks about how she would react. Some people are civil to Ove primarily because Sonja was a saint to them.
So who depends on him now? Most prominent is a pregnant Iranian immigrant who readily agrees that her husband lacks motor competence. Her young daughters quickly grow fond of Ove for reasons he'd never have guessed. His senile former friend, Rune, is about to be sent to a nursing home against Rune's wife's wishes (one of several signs that Sweden works differently). And a heretofore obnoxious feral cat who nearly perishes in the cold comes to regard him as a sort of master. Ove perceives a practically human level of understanding in the cat.
Almost every short chapter has a title that starts with "A Man Called Ove" or "A Man Who Was Ove," depending on whether it's set in the present. The flashbacks gradually reveal a bit about how he got this way, not least his enmity toward "men in white shirts." We often get hints well ahead of a full revelation, which may suggest his reluctance to dwell on the details.
Indeed, if the narration style is any indication, Ove rarely thinks of anyone else, even Sonja, by name. He does more often in later chapters, which is especially important when more people are a part of his life. At the same time, I'm not convinced that the narrator always represents Ove's own attitude; some of the "as if" clauses appear to ridicule him, and he's not one for self-deprecation.
Considering how I couldn't get into A Confederacy of Dunces because of the misanthropic protagonist, what made AMCO a winner for me? Well, Ove's redeeming values become apparent faster. He's no lazy loser; he takes pride in honest work. Half his complaints are respectable. And the story presents a fair mix of humorous and heartwarming.
Turns out I actually like this better than My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry. I now plan to take a chance on Britt-Marie Was Here, whose first two chapters I dared to read at the back. I won't read the rest right away, tho. Backman sure has a thing for socially challenged folk who don't realize they come across as jerks.
For now, I've picked up Lois McMaster Bujold's Falling Free. It hasn't taken long to get interesting.