My Friends by Fredrik Backman, a book review

I decided to read ‘My Friends’ after reading Sarah’s review. She linked it up on my January Bookworms Monthly. I find a lot of books I want to read just by seeing what other’s have enjoyed.

I’ve read a book by Fredrik Backman before. A Man Called Ove. We were given to read at book club. Then I realised I’d seen the film and it kind of spoiled it a bit because I love the film. But I did enjoy his writing and the way he fleshed out his characters.

But, let’s get back to My Friends.

The Blurb

You have to take life for granted, the artist thinks, the whole thing: sunrises and slow Sunday mornings and
water balloons and another person’s breath against your neck. That’s the only courageous thing a person can do.

In the corner of a world-famous painting, three tiny figures sit on the end of a pier, a secret hidden in plain sight. 

Twenty-five years ago, a group of teenagers found solace in each other during one unforgettable summer. Their friendship inspired a transcendent work of art, a painting that now mysteriously belongs to eighteen-year-old aspiring artist Louisa.

Driven to learn the story behind its creation, Louisa embarks on a journey to the seaside town where it all began. But as she gets closer to the painting’s birthplace, Louisa learns that happy endings do not always take the form we expect.

My Review of My Friends

I love the way Fredrik Backman writes. I really must read some more of his older books. He does draw things out, but having watched a lot of dubbed or subtitled European series, I feel that’s the way they tell stories. And Fredrik Backman is Swedish.

My Friends, however, was a little different. Yes, it was drawn out and it could have been made much shorter, but the story would have lost it’s essence on the way. That’s the essence of making one summer into a whole lifetime of memories.

It starts with Louisa, having just lost her best friend whom she called Fish, she doesn’t want to go back into care and has just one day until her 18th birthday. She has postcard of a famous painting which is going to be shown at a museum. She loves it so much she manages to get in to see it. Then she manages to get herself thrown out of the museum.

Running away she bumps into an older man who she assumes is homeless and together they paint a wall with spray paint.

I don’t want my review turning out as long winded as the book but this is where Louisa’s story really begins, and she ends up on a train with a stranger and a painting worth a lot of money that has been left to her.

The stranger, Ted, tells her the story of four young children and one summer where they had dreams and hopes, and many adventures. In the meantime, their long journey is not uneventful. But each piece plays a plays a part.

I felt that I knew everyone of those friends by the end of the story. Fredrik Backman is a true storyteller that makes you feel all the emotions.

stories are complicated, memories are merciless. we only remember seconds of the best times we remember every second of the worst.

Fredrik Backman, My Friends