Stories that define ‘simple’ for you — Book Review “Man Called Ove”

Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

This book took me to an exciting memory ride of my teenage. A neighbor of ours, a widow of a known doctor came to live in our building in the mid-90s. She had two sons, one was in US and another one at that time was in the late thirties and living with her— the tallest person in our Apartment of 16 flats. He had large, bold eyes like his mother. Later my father told me he is a lawyer by education. Clock hours 9:30 AM he would leave the house with perfectly ironed shirt- pant, well-oiled side partition hair. If you cross him in lift or passage or a compound of the building he would greet with standard “ Kem Chho Ben ( how are you sister ?) “ in his husky, deep and very distinctive voice. I can still remember the sound of it. Whatever time of day if he crosses you he will stop and greet in same politeness. We usually never had anything new to reply except “fine, thank you.” And run away and giggle it out. Many times I saw him walking on the road alone and talking to himself with hands moving around like he was expressing some important points to the invisible audience. A couple of years later when I moved away to another city for my college, got the better part of the world outside I became curious, and some time during my home visit if I stumbled upon him I would try to engage in long conversation. I would ask ‘How is work going?’ , and he would say “ Interesting, project is getting appreciated by US government and people are now casing him but he has decided to limit his solutions.” And he would go on with such vague, long and cryptic description of his work. But I would try to talk and hope to find some unusual hint with secret or conspiracy theory. Later my father said no-one knows where he goes and comes from at the end of the day, but for sure he isn’t employed. His mother told us how scholar he was with studies, and she is equally clueless where it went wrong with him, but she adored him at that age like a toddler and was there for him. Mother son due has been around since forever my family lived in the apartment. Over the period, being too busy with my own life I never took keen interest except once a while getting to know about old neighbors from my parents. I can’t even recall when did he die but for sure remember my father mention the same to me.

He was a strange, curious and mysterious character of our neighborhood that we use to make fun or make conspiracy theories about. We so wanted a lot more from his story.

He was the first person I thought about when I read “ Man Called Ove.” Ove is strange and unique. He sees the world with his lens. For him everything is in black and white and only color in his life is his wife.

His story has such simple personal discoveries, ability to find joy in most boring things, things we overlook and give the least importance.

“ He’d discovered that he liked houses. Maybe mostly because they were understandable. They could be calculated and drawn on paper. They did not leak if they were made watertight, they did not collapse if they were properly supported. Houses were fair, they gave you what you deserved. Which, unfortunately, was more than one could say about people. “

This story of Ove is so strong yet simple. I resisted the book at the start when I was just a few pages down. My first thought was it is boring me about some grumpy old guy but suddenly before I know story started talking to me about how to love, how to grieve and how to be lost and find yourself again.

“but if anyone had asked, he would have told them that he never lived before he met her. And not after, either.”

Simple but yet strong words like these pears you down and will kindle an unknown nerve inside you. Such stories are the reason we read, we read to remind ourselves about a lot that is known but forgotten. Finally reason you should read this book to know yourself “ why life with simple people is never simple?”.

Though Ove ‘s stories has a lot more interesting twist and turns of fate, but it reminded me of my old neighbour. That is what good stories do they talk to us, they move us and play with our memory.

Happy Reading !