Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

I was delighted by A Man Called Ove, both the book and the film. Since then, I’ve tried some of Mr. Backman’s other books but none were nearly as good. So I opened Anxious People with a bit of dread — please be good, please be good I muttered to myself. (Don’t you talk to your books? I do, as few else listen.)

Now, you should know it has taken me forever to write up my thoughts of this widely popular and best-selling novel.

You see, I had trouble with Anxious People, yet enjoyed much of it. The plot is crazy, but the characters are wonderfully flawed and complex. It leaps all over the place in time, and yet comes together in the end — so I have no clear opinion on this book. I’ll do my best to give you an overview and let you decide whether to try this wacky tale.

From the book’s publicity:

Looking at real estate isn’t usually a life-or-death situation, but an apartment open house becomes just that when a failed bank robber bursts in and takes a group of strangers hostage. The captives include a recently retired couple who relentlessly hunt down fixer-uppers to avoid the painful truth that they can’t fix their own marriage. There’s a wealthy bank director who has been too busy to care about anyone else and a young couple who are about to have their first child but can’t seem to agree on anything, from where they want to live to how they met in the first place. Add to the mix an eighty-seven-year-old woman who has lived long enough not to be afraid of someone waving a gun in her face, a flustered but still-ready-to-make-a-deal real estate agent, and a mystery man who has locked himself in the apartment’s only bathroom, and you’ve got the worst group of hostages in the world.

The police aren’t having a good day either. Father and son officers, Jim the old hand and Jack preferring modern methods, make up most of the small police force in their small town. They’re not used to bank robbers or handling hostage situations.

_____________________________________________

Anxious People immediately plunges the reader into this preposterous event told from multiple points of view. This makes for a complex start, and at first, everyone and everything was disjointed. There are many characters — each with their own stories.

During the first 100 pages, I wondered where this story was going — and if I would continue reading — but soon it started to come together. The somewhat stereotypical characters soon emerge as much more. These characters, although wonderfully developed, are for the most part idiots — but amusing idiots.

And here’s what Mr. Backman says about idiots — this definition applies to pretty much all of us —

“This story is about a lot of things, but mostly about idiots. So it needs saying from the outset that it’s always very easy to declare that other people are idiots, but only if you forget how idiotically difficult being human is.”

Anxious People jumps around in the timeline and swerves off on a lot of tangents, but it all makes sense in the end and all those little tangents soon become important. It was at times funny, at times sad, but for me, the best part was how it handled difficult topics in a way that was deservedly serious and yet lighthearted.

I found it was worth working through some of the convolution just for the some of the wisdom alone. I’ll give you a few samples of Mr. Backman’s insights:

“Because the terrible thing about becoming an adult is being forced to realize that absolutely nobody cares about us, we have to deal with everything ourselves now, find out how the whole world works. Work and pay bills, use dental floss and get to meetings on time, stand in line and fill out forms, come to grips with cables and put furniture together, change tires on the car and charge the phone and switch the coffee machine off and not forget to sign the kids up for swimming lessons. We open our eyes in the morning and life is just waiting to tip a fresh avalanche of “Don’t Forget!”s and “Remember!”s over us. We don’t have time to think or breathe, we just wake up and start digging through the heap, because there will be another one dumped on us tomorrow. We look around occasionally, at our place of work or at parents’ meetings or out in the street, and realize with horror that everyone else seems to know exactly what they’re doing. We’re the only ones who have to pretend. Everyone else can afford stuff and has a handle on other stuff and enough energy to deal with even more stuff. And everyone else’s children can swim.”

And then there is this one which spoke to me:

“The truth, of course, is that if people really were as happy as they look on the Internet, they wouldn’t spend so much damn time on the Internet, because no one who’s having a really good day spends half of it taking pictures of themselves. Anyone can nurture a myth about their life if they have enough manure, so if the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence, that’s probably because it’s full of shit. Not that that really makes much difference, because now we’ve learned that every day needs to be special. Every day.”

And here the author speaks to anxiety – this quote deserves reading more than once.

“One of the most human things about anxiety is that we try to cure chaos with chaos. Someone who has got themselves into a catastrophic situation rarely retreats from it, we’re far more inclined to carry on even faster. We’ve created lives where we can watch other people crash into the wall but still hope that somehow we’re going to pass straight through it. The closer we get, the more confidently we believe that some unlikely solution is miraculously going to save us, while everyone watching us is just waiting for the crash.”

So perhaps this is a story about a hostage situation, filled with anxious people. Or perhaps this is a tale of idiots stuck in an apartment. Or maybe it’s about a bungled police investigation. And then there’s the bridge…

But I have come to the long awaited conclusion that Anxious People is all about human relationships, of which Mr. Backman is a master. I laughed, I sighed, and I often savored the writing – re-reading many passages. There is wisdom sprinkled throughout the narrative.

Anxious People is not an easy read – it takes some letting yourself just “go with the flow” of this screwball novel and its anxious, idiotic — yet fascinating characters.

I’ll leave you with one last conversation:

So Zara asked, without any sarcasm, “Have you learned any theories about why people behave like that, then?”

“Hundreds,” The psychologist smiled.

“Which one do you believe?”

“I believe the one that says that if you do it for long enough, it can become impossible to tell the difference between flying and falling.”

Trigger warning: This novel deals with suicide and attempted suicide.

 

A digital review copy was kindly provided by Atria Books via NetGalley

 

Vaccination Vacation #2

Hi folks, we got away again. Back to one of our favorite spots up the coast ~~ right by a lighthouse.

• 

• 

• 

Yes, it’s the same little cabins we went to a couple of years ago. We love it up there. It’s only a 1/2 day drive and we needed another ‘get away’.

Like last time we did some wonderful walks/hikes…both along the cliffs

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

And through some open areas and cow fields.

We wandered around a working dock area – giggled at the Covid humor and Husband examined some crab traps.

• 

• 

Also visited a wildlife preserve up in the hills where they are actively raising and breeding endangered African animal species. A small venture run with lots of love and care.

• 

• 

The giraffe ate lettuce from our hands, and the young zebra was fascinated by us being fascinated in her.

Then we took a rail bike ride into the redwoods…

• 

• 

• 

They ride on the rail tracks of the tourist train that only runs a few days a week. Bikes use the tracks on the off days. Husband had the brake and we both had the pedal power. Great fun, especially with the power assist that you can kick in when going up hills.

Afterwards, Husband had to try some Fort Brag brews and I discovered a new non-alcoholic treat — Rose Lemonade. Which was just lovely.

• 

• 

It was a great trip, we got lots of fresh air and exercise. Finished our last night at a social distanced restaurant overlooking Noyo Harbor in Fort Bragg — which is where they filmed Overboard with Goldie Hawn.

• 

• 

We did enjoy some lazy time and I read books which I’ll share in a few days.

Until then, I hope you can enjoy your own vaccination vacation soon.

Don’t forget to bring a book.

As Always, Jack by Emma Sweeney

Whenever we travel to a different location, I like to visit a bookstore and search for local authors or books set in the area.

When we were in Coronado, California – (yikes, over two years ago now) – I bought this little book written by a woman raised on the island. I only just read As Always, Jack, having re-discovered it when shopping my home shelves during Covid.

Ms. Sweeney never knew her father, Jack, who shared a whirlwind romance with her mother via letters while stationed in the Pacific just after WWII. This slim volume, contains the actual collection of letters from her navy pilot father to her mother during the last months of WWII.

They met in Coronado and knew each other a mere two weeks before he got shipped off. Through their letters they got to know each other, and fell in love. A ten year marriage and five children were the result. To avoid any confusion, I’ll tell you that the author’s mother was pregnant with her when her father’s plane went down during a routine Navy flight.

By the time the Ms. Sweeney was old enough to start wondering about the father she’d never known, her mother had remarried. And with a reluctance to revisit the past, details about her father and their romance were scarce. Following her mother’s passing, Emma discovered a ribbon-tied packet of fragile letters and a photo — through which she finally met her father.

These letters depict far more than the typical navy pilot meets and falls in love with a beautiful California girl. Jack’s sense of humor and wit shines through. His personality is bold and cocky – as he woos, cajoles, and romances this beautiful girl from Coronado. Yet as the same time, he shows his insecurity that she doesn’t love him as much, and grows despondent when her letters don’t arrive.

Well, HALLELUJAH! FOUR letters – ranging from April 28th to May 27th – came home today and the world looks much different. One was sealed with a kiss, one was sealed with a Big kiss, one was sealed with a peck (?), and one was just sealed, which means I got spit on.

Jack tells of the foreign culture (Shanghai, Japan) boredom, lousy food, routine and when he writes about his actual flights, — he glosses over the obvious danger.

I feel pretty good, even though the immediate future isn’t so bright. Not enough of you in it.

Throughout the letters are Jack’s comical illustrations, 1940’s slang and references – from the films he sees on base to the virtues of the Fibber MacGee and Molly radio program – over which they disagree. Jack teases his girlfriend by mixing up her name, adding ten years to her age, and speculating on the number of children they will someday have.

After his release orders come through, and Jack is waiting for transport back to the States, his letters become a bit more subdued as he worries that after five months apart, that she won’t feel the same about him. But he tries to hide his jitters behind his ever resilient humor.

The only disappointment for this reader was that, through no fault of the author, As Always, Jack is one sided – only his letters survived. How wonderful it would have been to have the full correspondence. I’m sure Ms. Sweeney feels the same way.

As Always, Jack is an intensely personal gift from the author — not only by the sharing of her father’s letters, but also with the introduction and afterword she wrote to give a fuller picture of her parents endearing romance.

Independent Bookstores

Yesterday was Independent Bookstore Day, but no surprise, I think it should be every day. I am guilty of occasionally getting books from the big A – but, by and large, I do frequent the small independent bookstores in my fair city. Here’s a visual sample of those still here and thriving.

President Obama paid tribute to Independent Bookstore Day by virtually visiting several across the country. He is known for his love of reading and bookstores.

Here’s a wonderful article with embedded videos of his visits to bookstores yesterday ~~ Obama on Independent Bookstore Day

Like all bookstore lovers, he recognizes the importance of these shops and their staff, who will happily recommend a book you’ve never heard of, direct you to an undiscovered author, or just let you browse in peace.

So, let’s all celebrate, shut off the computer/phone, put on that mask, and go visit an independent bookstore near you. You’ll never know what you’ll find.

Find your nearest independent bookstore HERE

Meet Me at the Museum by Anne Youngson

A few years ago, Meet me at the Museum was pegged by NPR as “the charmer of the summer.”

That peeked my interest, and when I learned this debut novel was written by the author at 70 years old, well I knew I had to see if the publisher would grant me a copy.

I was delighted when they did just that

Shameful, but two years later, I finally got around to reading this book and found it much more than just a “charmer”.

But wait, I’ll start at the beginning.

Meet me at the Museum is written as an epistolary novel (one of my favorite style of books) and opens with a women’s letter to a Danish museum inquiring about the The Tollund Man*, whose well preserved corpse is exhibited there. I had never heard of The Tollund Man, who lived during the Iron Age, 250 BC, but I learned about him (it?) through this book. This initial inquiry turns into a correspondence between a widower and a farmer’s wife in Great Britain.

These two older adults are both in very different, and difficult, places in their lives, and through the correspondence they develop an candid and close friendship.

The lost art of letter writing is alive and well in this slim novel book. Both characters open up slowly — but eventually they drop their formal addressing and are soon using each other’s first names – Anders and Tina. They are also slow to reveal their past stories and reluctant to share their dis-satisfactions with their current lives — the walls of their privacy, slow to break down.

I found the ways they shared and expressed their viewpoints of both their own and others thoughts and behaviors insightful and often poetic. I kept stopping to mark a passage and would think — what a wonderful way to put that — such as this one.

We should look inside ourselves for fulfillment. It is not fair to burden children or grandchildren with the obligation to make us whole. Our obligation to them is to make them safe and provide them with an education. Karin can do that alone, if she chooses. She owes no one anything else. She owes it to herself to do what is best for her. When I had said this, Mary kissed me. I can’t remember the last time she did that. Or the last time I enjoyed a conversation more.

There are some lovely metaphors in Meet Me at the Museum — such as picking the raspberries in life, and a story of about a Rag Man — both treasures. (Sorry, you’ll have to read it to find out.)

As I read this book, I really enjoyed piecing together these humble character’s lives through their honest and heartfelt correspondence.

This is not a fast-paced, plot-driven novel – it is thoughtful and quiet — rich in depth and language — it was a real reading pleasure.

A digital review copy was kindly provided by Flatiron Books, via Netgalley.

________________________________________________

N.B. Meet Me at the Museum is reminiscent of another favorite of mine Our Souls at Night. (I know I’m getting older, but so many novels are aimed to the under 50 reading audience, and I find myself drawn to books with older, wiser perspectives on life and living

* And now for a little geeky-ness background:

The book was inspired by a poem written by Seamus Heaney – The Tollund Man – which you can read HERE. Mr. Heaney, inscribed part of the poem in the guest book at the Silkeborg Museum (Denmark) in 1973 after he gave a talk on his memories of the Irish bogs where the Tollund Man was discovered.

Even more information HERE — if you’re interested.

Take a Book, Leave a Book

All through this last year, Little Free Libraries have sustained readers. Especially when our regular libraries were closed, these little neighborhood boxes were a wonderful way to drop off and pick up books for free.

There are several of these little boxes on the walks I take. During this very looooong year, I’ve been stopping by, leaving and picking up a few extra books. And because of the pandemic, all of them had hand sanitizer — a nice touch. Even with things starting to open up, I think I will continue to drop off and, occasionally, pick up a few books here and there.

You can find these boxes near you at the Free Little Library website there’s a national map.

I’ve been working on Husband for years to build us me one for our teeny tiny front yard. Finally, he has reluctantly agreed, but I’m sure it will be awhile – he’s a busy guy

In the meantime, let’s browse a few little library designs and plans — also on their website.

What do you think?

This one?

Or maybe I’ll go large?

Or elegant

I could go artistic

But I think in the end, something like this would be perfect.

So, find a Free Little Library near you and make them one of your regular ‘go to’ stops.

________________________________________________

Now, I have to work on Husband for the new, next project — this time for the back garden.

I’m sure he’ll be very excited…

If you can’t leave a comment (this comment thing is a bit wonky sometimes), just email bookbarmy@yahoo.com