As I said, A Man Called Ove has touched me in such a profound way that I must dedicate an entire post to this wonderful book.

Without giving the key plot twists away, I'll just say that the book tells the story of a curmudgeon, whose name is obviously Ove. He generally thinks people are stupid and just wants to be left alone. A foreign family moves into Ove's neighborhood and unexpectedly befriends him. Turns out, he's much more than meets the eye. "His heart is too big."

The book is touching without being overly sentimental, and there are so many times when I feel like the author has taken the words right out of my mouth. 

I don't want to reduce this great story to some quotes, but yeah, listing some of my favorite quotes here is probably the easiest way to showcase why this book is a must-read.

"Loving someone is like moving into a house," Sonja used to say. "At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren't actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years, the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it's cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them, or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home. " 

And time is a curious thing. Most of us only live for the time that lies right ahead of us. A few days, weeks, years. One of the most painful moments in a person's life probably comes with the insight that an age has been reached when there is more to look back on than ahead. And when time no longer lies ahead of one, other things have to be lived for. Memories, perhaps.

Death is a strange thing. People live their whole lives as if it does not exist, and yet it's often one of the great motivations for the living. Some of us, in time, become so conscious of it that we live harder, more obstinately, with more fury. Some need its constant presence to even be aware of its antithesis. Others become so preoccupied with it that they go into the waiting room long before it has announced its arrival. We fear it, yet most of us fear more than anything that it may take someone other than ourselves. For the greatest fear of death is always that it will pass us by. And leave us there alone.

Ove has probably known all along what he has to do, but all people at root are time optimists. We always think there's enough time to do things with other people. Time to say things to them. And then something happens and then we stand there holding on to words like 'if'.

Because this was what Ove had learned: if one didn’t have anything to say, one had to find something to ask. If there was one thing that made people forget to dislike one, it was when they were given the opportunity to talk about themselves.

You miss the strangest things when you lose someone. Little things. Smiles. The way she turned over in her sleep. Even repainting a room for her.

Slowly, the house took shape. Screw by screw and floorboard by floorboard. No one saw it, of course, but there was no need for anyone to see it. A job well done is a reward in its own right, as his father always used to say.

A time comes in every man's life when he decides what sort of man he is going to be. Whether he is the kind who lets other people tread on him, or not.

Men are what they are because of what they do. Not what they say.

"They say the best men are born out of their faults and that they often improve later on, more than if they'd never done anything wrong," she'd said gently.

Don't be fooled by these quotes. The book has plenty of funny scenes too:

“Now you listen to me," says Ove calmly while he carefully closes the door. "You've given birth to two children and quite soon will be squeezing out a third. You've come here from a land far away and most likely you fled war and persecution and all sorts of other nonsense. You've learned a new language and got yourself an education and you're holding together a family of obvious incompetents. And I'll be damned if I've seen you afraid of a single bloody thing in this world before now....I'm not asking for brain surgery. I'm asking you to drive a car. It's got an accelerator, a brake and a clutch. Some of the greatest twits in world history have sorted out how it works. And you will as well." And then he utters seven words, which Parvaneh will always remember as the loveliest compliment he'll ever give her. "Because you are not a complete twit."

Ove glares out of the window. The poser is jogging. Not that Ove is provoked by jogging. Not at all. Ove couldn’t give a damn about people jogging. What he can’t understand is why they have to make such a big thing of it. With those smug smiles on their faces, as if they were out there curing pulmonary emphysema. Either they walk fast or they run slowly, that’s what joggers do. It’s a forty-year-old man’s way of telling the world that he can’t do anything right. Is it really necessary to dress up as a fourteen-year-old Romanian gymnast in order to be able to do it? Or the Olympic tobogganing team? Just because one shuffles aimlessly around the block for three quarters of an hour?

Her lips are pulled into the sort of grimace that comes as close to a real smile as a woman whose lips have been injected with environmental waste and nerve toxins is ever likely to achieve.

The husband just nods back at her with an indescribably harmonious smile. The very sort of smile that makes decent folk want to slap Buddhist monks in the face, Ove thinks to himself.

I have to stress that I picked these quotes because they don't really contain major spoilers. If you read the entire book, there are countless more quotes that make you go, "I wish I could write like that."

So I must tip my hat to the translator of this book. His translation is so pitch perfect that I cannot believe this book was originally written in Swedish. People often send me links highlighting horrible translation examples from Chinese books. I always say to them, "What do you expect? If it's an international bestseller, they want it fast. How can anyone do a good job within just a few weeks? If it's something obscure, then the market demand isn't big enough to justify the use of best translators and editors out there. So there you go."

Too bad this book is a bestseller and already has a translated Chinese version. I hope one day I can come across a gem like this and have the opportunity to translate it into Chinese.

P.S. Yes, there is already a movie adaptation as well. If you can find it, why not give it a try?