Fredrik Backman pens healing like a flower blooming from the dust. As a person of sharp tongue but a tofu heart, much like myself, I appreciate the precision with which he crafts his characters' language. There's a tender care and affection hidden beneath the barbed humor that hits home.
He weaves an absurd heist and a clue-bridge, unmasking an undercurrent of chaotic emotions and psychological narratives hidden beneath what seems like a well-ordered world.
Anxious People shattered my preconceived notions of heartwarming, healing literature. Writing about healing and empathy doesn't have to be a lament of "others have it worse than you." Writing about tenderness shouldn't be restricted to capturing life's beautiful, warm moments. The healing nature of this novel doesn't offer you all the answers to life's pain and mysteries, nor is it a psychologist's guide to mastering empathy for others and yourself.
Instead, my reading journey was a healing journey. As I immersed in the story, each character was unpretentious, genuine, and vibrant. Beneath Backman's acid-tongued prose, especially in the dialogues where the characters share their stories with strangers, their gradual understanding of each other in the house for sale was warm and beautiful. They, as strangers in an insecure environment, provided each other with the greatest sense of security.
Absurdity is often used to portray reality, but it can also depict unrealistic love and fulfillment, just like the novel's conclusion. Each clue is intricately linked with literary logic, connected by hope, love, understanding, and forgiveness. It tells you that when you give, the apparent loss is "not your fault," and in reality, you are reaping rewards.
תגובות