Fredrik Backman

My Friends

Abigail F

Louisa tells him about art so beautiful that just seeing it makes you too big for your body, a sort of happiness so overwhelming that it's almost unbearable.

 "When I was standing in front of that painting, I forgot to be alone, I forgot to be afraid, do you understand?" she says. 

Of course Ted understands. Ifyou've experienced it once, you never forget it. If not, there probably isn't any way to explain.

They take Joar's dad's old car, nobody knows how he's managed to keep the old wreck running, but he's good at keeping things alive. He gets that from his mom.

Her art becomes famous. She becomes someone else's postcard.

But when they walk to the end of the pier and sit there dangling their legs over the edge, Louisa sees exactly what the four friends saw twenty-five years ago: an endless sea, a great friendship, a true love story. She hears them giggle. Detects the smell of a fart. All of it.

But when l read about 1he One of the Sea, I was reminded of how much I liked it. I stood for hours just looking at it before we sold it. Not because it's perfect, but because it isn't. It's one of the most human works of art I've ever seen. I was pleased to hear that it's hanging in a museum now. Some works of art shouldn't be owned by anyone. They should belong to everyone."

"That won't work. If I see this painting as money, then I’ll see all paintings as money. Then I’ll never be able to paint anything.

"Dear God it's incredible completely incredible," she ex- claims in delight.

 Louisa doesn't understand her reaction at first, because it looks like Christian's mother is seeing the painting for the very first time. It takes a handful of seconds before Louisa realizes that the woman isn't looking at the painting at all. She's looking at Louisa's drawing.

"I thought I’d managed to scare Ted here away too. But he kept coming to visit me, the whole damn time, even thoughI was drunk and told him to go to Hell. He's bad at that, Ted is, he really can't go to Hell..."

 “He doesn't like traveling," Louisa says.

“It took me a long time to realize why you did that. But you knew that the only thing keeping Kimkim in this town was the fact that he didn't want to leave you. So you drove him away. He cried that night, butI know you cried more. And I told him that he ought to go traveling, see the world, and in the end he agreed. So he went. And I saw you, you'd climbed into a tree and sat there watching the taxi as it drove away."

“It's art that helps me cope. Because art is a fragile magic, just like love, and that's humanity's only defense against death. That we create and paint and dance and fall in love, that's our rebellion against eternity. Everything beautiful is a shield. Vincent Van Gogh wrote: I always think that the best way to know God is to love man things." 

"It's cool that we happened at all," Louisa whispers. 

"Something like that," the mother smiles.

That's the worst thing about death, that it happens over and over again. That the human body can cry forever.

 One single good deed can't outweigh a lifetime of bad ones, but those men were prepared to give it a try. They were hard people who had lived hard lives, but one damn Saturday they would go to a damn museum and see a damn painting, and that feeling would be like a damn sunrise in their chests: that they had been part of something beautiful.

“ I hope you know I was never ashamed of you. I'm ashamed of myself.”

Kimkim wanted to explain everything he felt then, but he didn't have enough words, so instead he said the biggest ones he knew:

 "I love you and I believe in you, Dad." 

Children aren't responsible for their parents' happiness, but they still try.

Ted gives everyone more love. But I think you've both given each other the same amount: everything you had."

"Is it horrible being an adult?" the girl asked. 

"Unbearable," the mother replied."You fail with almost everything all the time."

Ted's room was full of Kimkim's drawings, hundreds of them, carefully spread out across the whole floor, like a map of a boy's heart.

It's hard to listen to the end of a long story. Especially if you have a really important question that you don't dare ask.

So Joar stepped forward to pick up the painting, but Christian's mother asked:

 They let her. She carried it as if it were alive.

"No, thank goodness, you haven't had any training! No one whos had any training paints like that! Art doesn't require training, dear child, art just needs friends."

Unfortunately the guard immediately asked if she was all right, but in a tone that suggested she was extremely fragile, and isn't that typical of men? So the atmosphere wasn't great to begin with.

People always say that you should live as if every day was your last, but when you have children you realize that you have to live as if every day was their first.

“No, no, my dear. You never get over death. Not if you're someone who loves. 

 Then all four friends just stood there in the middle of the big room, lightheaded with happiness, and perhaps that was the first time Kimkim saw what the others had always known.

 "Screw that competition. I just want you to get it into your head that your art belongs in a place like this. And that you belong here ...too," Joar said.

Backman is an auto-read author for me at this point. While this isn’t my favorite of his works, I know it’s a story that will stay with me for many years to come. 

A story that is easy to read, highly engaging, with fun characters, Backman looks at the meaning of art, what it means to be human, life, friendship and all the ways to tell someone you love them. 

emotionally, this was a 5 star read. I rated it 4.5 because I do have some minor complaints on the narrative. Some could say the messages were beaten to death but I think the way they were presented in an overlapping way that worked well within the non linear nature of the story line.

TW: death of loved ones, domestic violence, abuse of children, mention of sexual assault, overdose, suicidal ideation

Backman is an auto-read author for me at this point. While this isn’t my favorite of his works, I know it’s a story that will stay with me for many years to come. 

A story that is easy to read, highly engaging, with fun characters, Backman looks at the meaning of art, what it means to be human, life, friendship and all the ways to tell someone you love them. 

emotionally, this was a 5 star read. I rated it 4.5 because I do have some minor complaints on the narrative. Some could say the messages were beaten to death but I think the way they were presented in an overlapping way that worked well within the non linear nature of the story line.

Not a cozy read, but a good read. 

TW: death of loved ones, domestic violence, abuse of children, mention of sexual assault, overdose, suicidal ideation

My Friends

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