A man called Ove

I just finished reading the book A Man Called Ove.  It was a random find, purely located by happenstance.  Most of my reading comes from Wendy shoving books at me, but this one was sitting in the little library in my condo building and I picked it up for no good reason.

I cried so many damn times reading this book.  It caused more shed tears than any other piece of media I have ever consumed, I think, and that takes some doing.  The book wasn't my usual fare of fantasy romp or science fiction heavy with ideas.  It was just a simple story of a curmudgeonly old man who wished to die because his only reason for living was gone and his discovery of new reasons to live.

There are bits of myself in Ove, but this story wasn't so moving because I saw myself in the protagonist.  It piqued my emotions because I could see in Ove a man who struggled mightily with the injustices of the world and who wanted to live his own way even though the people around him could not understand why he would want that.  In his own way he tried to do the best things for the world, the right things, and his struggle to do right caught him up in all kinds of difficulty.

The story is well written, tight, and easy to read.  It has all the things it needs and no waste.  All of the little bits that you might want to dismiss as mere details are there for a reason and they contribute to the story in just the right way.  The characters feel absolutely real and believable and the silly and random events that occur are just the sorts of things that happen in real life.

Normally I recommend books because they will make you think or expand your horizons.  I recommend this book enthusiastically not because it will do either of those things, but simply because it is a joy to read.  Despite the tears created by the sad parts the book as a whole is uplifting and may raise your faith in humanity's ability to be good in spite of all the troubles we must endure.