A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
And the string continues…
What a great tale. Backman hits the nail on the head when entering the head and heart of the curmudgeon, and all those around him. He pulls no punches, and brings Ove to life in brilliant color. He’s harsh and unyielding in his assessment of every character, and tender and compassionate in their handling. Every single one. Beautiful.
And again, with the Empathy. I’m not sure how these books keep choosing me, but I won’t complain. There was, however, only one letter employed between the covers, and that at the very end. Thus ends my string of epistolary novels, I guess.
Short review. Brilliant book.
Loved loved loved this book. I’ve shoved it into more sets of hands than I can count, insisting that it be read and cherished. Don’t think you can see the movie and call it good. The movie was decent but it in glad I read the book first.
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But I’m glad that should say. Boo for not being able to edit comments after posting
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Hehehe. The lack of editability is funny, but funnier still is that I hold in my hands at this very moment the copy of the book I read, and that copy belongs to you. You shoved it into the hands of my mother, and, feeling guilty at not reading it herself, she handed it to me, so it wouldn’t be going to waste on her counter. It was wonderful. I’ll shove it back her way and see if she has found the time for a curmudgeon.
You never know where you’re shoving will end. 😉
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Yes! I was hoping that I could finally share a book with you that you hadn’t already read. Lol. Ove. He’s just the best. I love the part where he tells the neighbor that she’s not a complete idiot, and should, therefore, be able to learn to drive. He reminds me of all the curmudgeonly but loving men in my family.
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There are a few, aren’t there?
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