Books: Britt-Marie Was Here By Fredrick Backman (2016)

If there has been a theme that has been threaded throughout the three novels by bestselling Swedish author Fredrick Backman is that his fastidious protagonist are forced to navigate in a cold world that does not appreciate their ideals and thus forces them into a challenging bit of circumstance. Much like A Man Called Ove, Britt-Marie (who was a supporting character in My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry) is a bit compulsive in the way she believes things should be done, and uses the barometer of a well kept cutlery drawer to decide who is human and who is an animal. 

In Britt-Marie Was Here, we get a better look into what made her whom she is: the loss of an older sister that shattered her parents and tossed her into the wine dark sea of being neglected and restrained by those around her from that day forward. To compensate, she creates lists and follows them. She can’t stand messes, so she is endlessly cleaning things with baking soda and a cleaner named Faxin (the Swedish version of Formula 409?), she starts her day at 6am (because only lunatics stay in bed longer), eats dinner at precisely 6pm. Britt-Marie does not consider herself passive-aggressive, or even obsessive compulsive, just considerate. It's just that sometimes people interpret her helpful suggestions as criticisms, which is certainly not her intention.

But like all heroes, Britt-Marie is forced to act after walking away from her forty-year marriage; she’s grown weary of her husband infidelities (but still loves him). Seeking a job (which is brilliant in its own way), she ends up in Dickensian-like town of Borg –which can be best described as a “community built along a road.” There she finds a small municipality in the grips of a slow death (mostly from an economic downturn, but clearly Borg was failing before). Sent to run the recreation center (until closes in three weeks), she discovers a world of sullied and noisy lost children, muddy floors, and a potential new friend who is a rat. 

“As for the citizens of Borg, with everything that they know crumbling around them, the only thing that they have left to hold onto is something Britt-Marie absolutely loathes: their love of soccer. When the village’s youth team becomes desperate for a coach, and they set their sights on her. She’s the least likely candidate, but their need is obvious and there is no one else to do it.

“Thus begins a beautiful and unlikely partnership. In her new role as reluctant mentor to these lost young boys and girls, Britt-Marie soon finds herself becoming increasingly vital to the community. And even more surprisingly, she is the object of romantic desire for a friendly and handsome local policeman named Sven. In this world of oddballs and misfits, can Britt-Marie finally find a place where she belongs?”

Yes, the plot is a bit clunky and contrived (more so than his previous novels) that teeters on parody, but I found some interesting aspect of Britt-Marie that I could identify with. Her husband calls her “socially incompetent” and negative, which is why people don’t like her that much (especially her step-children) and does not want to spend time with her. After settling in at the center in Borg, she stares out the window, watching the children play soccer and sees the Sven: “For a short moment she was afraid that he was going to come over and knock on the door.” But when he leaves, Britt-Marie is “disappointed when he didn’t” knock. 

This is me in many ways. I want to be part of something, but know I have a tendency to speak my mind, which some feel is more negative than helpful. Perhaps in my mind, I see myself as being considerate, but I’m just being an asshole? I mean, I also will beg-off on things, only to feel jealous when I see postings on Facebook of my friends having fun. The same thing happens when they don’t call me (because they’re apparently done with my passive-aggressiveness and negativity) and I see them having fun without me and I can’t figure out why they didn’t even try to invite me. It’s a vicious circle of Hell I’ve fallen into.

Anyways, the town, the kids, and even the rat are as quirky as you can get without collapsing in on itself. It’s still charming, often amusing, and bitter sweet.

Books: My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry By Fredrick Backman (2015)

"Elsa is seven years old and different. Her grandmother is seventy-seven years old and crazy, standing-on-the-balcony-firing-paintball-guns-at-men-who-want-to-talk-about-Jesus-crazy. She is also Elsa's best, and only, friend. At night Elsa takes refuge in her grandmother's stories, in the Land of Almost-Awake and the Kingdom of Miamas where everybody is different and nobody needs to be normal."

When Elsa's grandmother dies and leaves behind a series of letters apologizing to people she has wronged, Elsa's greatest adventure begins. Her grandmother's letters lead her to an apartment building full of drunks, monsters, attack dogs, and totally ordinary old crones, but also to the truth about fairytales and kingdoms and a grandmother like no other.

Fredriks Backman’s My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry is really about female empowerment (Elsa does not comprehend why she can’t like Spider-Man), about embracing all your oddities, and being the individual you were meant to be (there is irony that I finishing this book when world broke that David Bowie had passed). She’s precocious, wise (as all kids are in TV dramas and sitcoms, and in Roald Dahl books) beyond her years. But the book is also about loss and how we deal with it. Much like A Man Called Ove, this book goes with the idea that we hide our true selves behind masks, never letting out true selves out. Elsa needs to deal with the loss of her grandmother, but is surrounded by people –including her divorced parents- whom don’t know the first thing about taking care of their emotional life, let alone the emotional life of a seven (almost eight) year-old girl. But since a lot of parents are not honest with their children, Elsa decides the only way she can move on from her grandmother’s death, is to go on this journey and take, the mostly obtuse adults, along with her.

My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry it a bit more serious than A Man Called Ove, but the darker themes remain. It’s a striking fairy tale that lives in the same neighborhood, as I said as Dahl, with a dash of Neil Gaiman to make it modern.  

Books: A Man Called Ove By Fredrik Backman (2014)

“Meet Ove. He's a curmudgeon, the kind of man who points at people he dislikes as if they were burglars caught outside his bedroom window. He has staunch principles, strict routines, and a short fuse (especially for the people who can’t read the signs). People call him the bitter neighbor from hell, but must Ove be bitter just because he doesn't walk around with a smile plastered to his face all the time? Behind the cranky exterior there is a story and sadness. So when one November morning a chatty young couple with two chatty young daughters move in next door and accidentally flatten Ove's mailbox, Ove’s very ordered life begins to unravel. “

The book had me at “curmudgeon”, something that I guess I’m kind of one. But while Ove reminds me of myself, he also reminds me of my grandfather, a man who seemed out of time as well. But Ove, in the book, is only 59 and is living in our modern world of the internet. But he can’t seem to understand why people can’t fix bicycles, or bleed radiators, or read signs that clearly state “vehicular traffic is prohibited in the residential area.” Then there is the cat, the one who shows up out of nowhere and continues to stare at Ove, as if he owed money to the feline.

Yes, A Man Called Ove is comical and heartwarming, as it features a vibrant woman named Parvaneh, a pregnant Iranian woman who tries her hardest not to dislike Ove (which, of course, irritates him to no end) who is right out of every Lifetime movie ever made, but Swedish author Fredrik Backman (translated by Henning Koch) also takes us on journey where we are made to think about who we are as humans, and how we want to live our lives. 

Also, as well, how we cope with loss, because Ove really is the epitome for those whom have tried to live a fair and steady life of doing what’s right, only to beset by many trials and tribulations. Over the years, he has been conned, ripped off and harassed. Saddest of all is the bus accident that left his wife, Sonja, the woman he adores more than anything in the world, paralyzed and their unborn child dead.  But our Volvo-loving curmudgeon is not that cranky as we are lead to believe –as it just takes Parvaneh and her family to reawaken Ove’s sense of doing the right thing.

It’s a quirky (but not in a bad way) and very charming novel. It’s has a deceptively simple premise that some may call too simple, but one I found to be perfect on this late December night.