Witty. Sorrowful yet heartfelt. Amusing. Fredrik Backman’s newest book Anxious people, translated by Neil Smith, has definitely more qualities than just being anxious. Backman used his magic again and almost let it live up to the high, wholesome standard of his previous books.

Almost.

Anxious People is a story about a crime that did not happen, a bank robber that did not rob a bank and an apartment viewing that did not go as planned. Also two anxious policemen and eight even more anxious prospective buyers. But where is the bank robber?

It is a skill, a gift, a talent when an author can grip a reader from the first page with a topic nearly trivial and just above the border line of uninteresting. Before I read Anxious People, no one could really convince me that I needed to read about crime and anxiety.

But the praise and my curiosity made me do otherwise and having previous experience with the author tipped the scale: I was also not convinced I needed to read A Man Called Ove, a book about a grumpy old man, and Beartown, a book about ice hockey in a small town. Turns out I did.

As always, Backman’s soothing and grasping voice is imprinted in every paragraph of every page. Yet something is missing this time.

First of all, somewhere halfway through the story all the characters just become awfully annoying and hardly tolerable. But that I could overlook once I get to understand the plot better.

The second and worse thing is that I did not care for any of the characters. I did not care for the outcome, the end. I finished the book relieved, ready to move on, without dwelling on the fate of a single anxious person.

I would lie if I didn’t admit I was entertained. Backman is a master of the written word. His descriptions are beautiful, his metaphors are smart. But I didn’t fall in love the same way I did with Ove. I did not care the way I did for Beartown.

As an easy read, I would recommend it! But it’s not a book I would proudly add to my library to come back to in the future.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ / ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️