She takes Elsa out on midnight trips to the zoo, throws feces at the police and dresses snowmen up to look like people who fell from a balcony. Her Granny tells her fairytales about knights and castles and dragons and sea angels and princesses in the land of almost-awake. She’s quite different and smart for a 7-year old and doesn’t fit in with her peers. Nobody can quite tell something like Backman can.Įlsa is 7 years old and her Granny is her best friend. You’d quickly run out of people if you had to disqualify all those who at some point have been shits. But it kind of seems to take a back seat to the comedy and metaphors and expressions and characters and wonderfully weird ways of expressing perfectly ordinary everyday things. Because, unlike so many other books out there, his books don’t seem as story driven as they do prose driven. The thing about Fredrick Backman’s books is that, if someone asks me to tell them what the story is about, I have trouble doing it. Or a story very well thought through at least. On the contrary, a book that gets me so emotionally involved that I feel empty after the last page can be seen as bloody well written. And every book I read these says seem to be aimed at making me cry. That said, I’m starting to feel like a person with a slight emotional instability, because this is also the time peeiod that I’ve cried the most when reading. All the books I’ve come across and read have been above average… By my standards anyway. I’ve been very lucky these past few weeks. Nothing scares idiots more than a smart girl.
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