My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She's Sorry

I visited my best friend from high school, Carrie, over the summer. My son is her godson and he was to stay with her in Seattle to attend a jazz camp for a week. Carrie and I went to jazz camp together when we were kids, so it seemed especially appropriate. She lent me a wonderful book: My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She's Sorry. Fredrik Backman, the author, originally wrote it in his native language, Swedish. There were some fun reminders of that throughout the story when the reader is informed that the protagonist spoke some phrases in English, like her favorite English phrase "No shit, Sherlock". Of course it's all in English for me and my English version.

I was initially skeptical that a seven-year-old (almost eight!) would be able to carry a story that would keep me interested, but I was definitely held rapt. Some favorite lines:

Page 11:  Because all seven-year-olds deserve superhereoes.

Page 22:  Elsa is the sort of child who learned early in life that it's easier to make your own way if you get to choose your own soundtrack.

Page 36:  The room in the hospital smells as bad and feels as cold as hospital rooms tend to when it is barely above freezing outside and someone has hid beer bottles under her pillow and opened a window to try to get rid of the smell of cigarette smoke. 

Page 45:  Having a grandmother is like having an army. This is a grandchild's ultimate privilege: knowing that someone is on your side, always, whatever the details. Even when you are wrong. Especially then, in fact. 

Page 66:  They sit there in the sort of silent eternity that only mothers and daughters can build up between themselves. 

Page 80:  People who have never been hunted always seem to think there's a reason for it.  "They wouldn't do it without a cause, would they?" As if that's how oppression works. 

Page 150:  Mum puts her hand on Elsa's hand and inhales deeply from the point where they are touching, as if trying to fill her lungs with Elsa. As mums do with daughters who grow up too fast. 

Page 276:  Elsa doesn't believe in Santa, but she has a lot of faith in people who do believe in him. She used to write letters to Santa every Christmas, not just wish lists but whole letters. They weren't very much about Christmas, mainly about politics. Because Elsa mostly felt that Santa wasn't involving himself enough in social questions, and believed he needed to be informed about that, in the midst of the floods of greedy letters that she knew he must be receiving from all the other children every year. Someone had to take a bit of responsibility. 

Carrie got me hooked! I'm looking forward to reading Backman's A Man Called Ove. A great writer.

Gwendy's Button Box

I went to the library the other day when I was waiting for my son, who was waiting for his turn in the barber's chair. I haven't read a Stephen King story in awhile and this book had a big sticker saying "Lucky Day" on it. So I felt lucky. Gwendy's Button Box was co-authored by Stephen King and Richard Chizmar. I finished it the same day but I mused on it much longer. It was a quick and tidy ride through the problem of responsibility for world peace. I only kept one quote:

Pages 27-28:  Gwendy has a thought (novel now in its adult implications, later to become a tiresome truth): secrets are a problem, maybe the biggest problem of all. They weigh on the mind and take up space in the world.

The Secret Keeper

Kate Morton wrote an absorbing mystery story in The Secret Keeper. Beautifully crafted with a satisfying truth. It's told from the point of view of Laurel and a violent act she witnesses her mother commit when she was a child. But then we're put into the heads of the triangle of principle characters, taken back to the events that led up to it. Yes, I recommend this book!

I finished it several months ago and can only find one quote that I kept:

Page 109:  Because people who'd led dull and blameless lives did not give thanks for second chances.