A Man Called Ove (Novel)

Friendship. Love. Community. Neighbors. Soulmates. Family. Reconciliation. Cars. Heroes. Cats. Loss. Purpose. Principles. Grief. Men in White Shirts.

While reading A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman, a number of times my body was confused, trying to laugh and cry at the same time. My continuing reading mission is to find books with “good heart. A Man Called Ove has “great” heart, which allowed me many moments of emotional catharsis. I have loved and lost. I too long to have someone who won’t give up on me, who would love me despite my flaws.

Most of us know someone like Ove. Someone we will go out of our way to avoid, who constantly criticizes and seems to find nothing right with the world. In the beginning of the story, Ove feels incapable of living without his beloved wife. He wants only to be reunited with her. But, the world keeps on interfering with his plans. The first distraction in the novel comes in the form of Ove’s new neighbors backing their trailer into his mailbox. The wife, Parvaneh, is pregnant, has two daughters, and has a husband who is DIY challenged. The novel describes the blossoming of Ove’s relationship with the family as well as the other human and feline intrusions into Ove’s life. The novel also tells Ove’s backstory. Backman helps us understand how Ove became “Ove.” We also learn about the unlikely love between Ove and his wife, Sonja. While Ove is the main character of the novel, Parvaneh is the hero. Her fierce refusal to give up on Ove, despite his unpleasantness, is what drives the novel to its heartfelt climax.

After I finished reading A Man Called Ove, I pondered it for a few days. I was reminded of my uncles, who were often brusque but always willing to help. I thought about friendships that had deteriorated. I thought of the cantankerous people in my life, some who I understand and some who I don’t. This would be such a good novel for getting people to talk about some of the heartfelt experiences in their own lives. We so seldom have a place to talk about the things that really matter in our lives.

The Canterbury Sisters (Novel)

The Canterbury Tales. Mothers and Daughters. Death. Forgiveness. Healing. Stories. A Pilgrimage. Friendships. Death. Relationships. Lovers. What Women Want.

Okay, I thought. Here’s what I don’t have. I don’t have a mother, or a lover, or a phone, or any fucking clue of why I’m here, where I’m going next, or what any of this means.

Kim Wright, The Canterbury Sisters

When Che receives her mother’s ashes, there is a note attached, a last request: take the ashes to Canterbury, “It is never too late for healing.” Che would have ignored the note, except that her boyfriend had also sent a note. He was breaking up with her and would call her to work out the details. So, to fulfill her mother’s last wishes and to avoid the inevitable conversation with her now ex-boyfriend, Che books a flight to London. When her private tour guide becomes ill, Che finds herself on a pilgrimage (run by Broads Abroad) going from London to Canterbury with eight other women. In the tradition of The Canterbury Tales, each woman is to tell a “love story,” whether true or fictional. Through the pilgrimage and the stories, Che finds the healing that her mother wanted for her.

The Canterbury Sisters by Kim Wright gave me the same pleasure that I associate with the sight of a well-planned, well-maintained garden. There was the pleasure of the description of the walk to Canterbury, based upon Wright’s own experiences. There was the pleasure of the skillful writing.The description of Che’s mother’s ashes in the zip lock bag and then in the fish and chips bag is wonderful, both amusing and touching. The women’s stories and the narration of their experiences on the trip gave me insight into the lives of women and their complexities. Che is a bit snooty and at the same time vulnerable, making her an appealing character. My only major criticism is that part of the ending seemed contrived.

I rarely read non-genre –science fiction, mystery, fantasy– fiction. I’m not sure it is in my true nature. But, this novel does make me want to read more novels by Kim Wright.

Forward the Foundation (SF Book)

The Loss of Loved Ones. Despair. Hope for the Future. A Plan. Subtle Manipulation.

Years ago when I overenthusiastically described a book to a friend, she sarcastically quipped, “You know it isn’t real; it’s pretend.” So, I have to confess that part of my mind thinks of Forward the Foundation as the biography of Hari Sheldon. The book makes me sentimental. It was written at the end of Isaac Asimov’s life and published after his death. While the novel ends with the triumph of a life’s work, it contains many stories of loss. The novel is another example of good storytelling, with little unexpected twists tucked in to make it interesting.

Briefly, Forward the Foundation fills in the period of Hari Sheldon’s life between Prelude to Foundation and Foundation. Asimov describes the origins of The Sheldon Plan, First Foundation, and Second Foundation. He describes the decay of Trantor over the decades as well as the aging of Sheldon and many of the other major characters. One bright spot is the birth of Sheldon’s granddaughter Wanda, the daughter of Sheldon and Dors’ foster-son, Raych. While the original Foundation Series novels refer to Sheldon in terms of some larger than life character, Asimov shows how other individuals made major contributions that made The Sheldon Plan possible.

Besides being entertaining, Asimov’s Foundation Series made me think. — I started reading the series almost a year ago. — I look at politics differently, losing my last bit of naiveté. The novels made me more aware of cause and effect on a large scale. Forward the Foundation also makes references to making subtle changes in order to bring about a major outcome. This reminds me so much of the recent attempts to stabilize the world economy. All in all, I’m glad I read the whole series.

End Note: Asimov wrote a Robot Series that has some overlap with the Foundation Series. Also, there are  a number of Foundation novels not written by Asimov.

Birthday Shout Out

Today is my cousin's, David Ward’s, 50th Birthday.

So many changes have happened in his life and in the world in the past half century. I can only begin to imagine what is in store for the next 50 years!


We better darn well get to Mars in the next 50 years, and hopefully a lot sooner.

Many, many, many, many, many blessings!!!!!!

More Than Just a Trip to the Beach

I just finished reading A Trip to The Beach by Melinda Blanchard, who is a wonderful storyteller. She describes how she and her husband fell in love with the island of Anguilla, opened a restaurant there, and lived through Hurricane Luis, which destroyed much of Anguilla. After finishing the book, I was curious about the Blanchards, their restaurant, and whether Hurricane Luis really hit after the restaurant’s first year. After doing an internet search, I was delighted to see a picture of the restaurant that looked very much like the picture in my mind. I enjoyed reading about some of the employees that I had read about in the book. I confirmed that while Blanchard took some liberties in the book with details, the dates of the opening of Blanchard’s restaurant and of Hurricane Luis were accurate.

The book provided me with more than just an enjoyable escape. It also provided me with an opportunity to learn and, I’ve now discovered, to keep my brain young.

An article from Reuters on the Internet described an interesting study.

“Researchers at the University of California Los Angeles studied people doing Web searches while their brain activity was recorded with functional magnetic resonance imaging scans.’What we saw was people who had Internet experience used more of their brain during the search,’ Dr. Gary Small, a UCLA expert on aging, said in a telephone interview. This suggests that just searching on the Internet may train the brain -- that it may keep it active and healthy," said Small, whose research appears in the American Journal of Geriatric Psychiatry.”

Perhaps a book isn't just something to read. Perhaps it is an invitation to explore something new.

Fading Flowers

My maternal grandmother loved to garden. Despite having nine children together, after chores were done on the farm, my grandfather could be seen helping my grandmother with the flowers. It was their special time together. My grandmother died sixteen years before I was born, yet I often feel her presence when I am in my own garden.

Lately, I have been overwrought with sadness. I mourn friends and relatives who have passed away. I see the bodies of living loved ones grow twisted. I see them in physical and emotional pain. I witness their memories failing. Some of them are shells of the people I once knew and loved.

After my mother passed away, my oldest cousin’s family gave me a Peace Plant. In the past few weeks, I have watched a white flower sprout, blossom, and fade. It is now a cylinder of drying seeds. This morning the plant gave me a great sense of peace. Like the flowers, we all have a life cycle. Some of us are just beginning to open. Some are fading. Yet others are almost nothing but drying seeds. My grandmother lovingly dried the seeds in her garden and then stuck them in envelopes to use for next year. While acknowledging my sadness, I am also given the option to harvest the seeds that my loved ones have created through their lives: a love of crystals, an appreciation of nature, the ability to make someone feel special, etc. Now I need to prepare the soil, as my grandparents did, so that I can plant the “seeds” for the next generation to enjoy.