Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

 

My wife has been after me to read (or listen to) this book for some time. I have previously enjoyed A Man Called Ove and My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry by the same author. Backman is a good writer, although his books are definitely quirky and decidedly not American. 

I will admit, sometimes it is difficult to tell where his characters fall on the continuum of “culturally different” versus “seriously neurodivergent.” In this book, however, I think most of the characters are neurotypical…ish, rather than as clearly autistic as some of characters in other books. 

 

This is not to say that they aren’t weird. They are definitely weird. And this story is really crazy, absurd, implausible, and yet weirdly heartwarming. 

 

As my wife noted, the story is an “onion” plot. That is, we know the surface of what happens early on, but as the story continues, we keep going layer after layer deeper, until we finally, at the end, understand what happened, and find the core of the ideas the author wants us to understand. 

 

From the outset, we know this plot is going to be odd. In a small city in Sweden, a botched bank robbery leads to a hostage situation in an apartment. 

 

Hours later, the hostages are released unharmed, and the police storm the building, only to find that the bank robber has completely vanished without a trace. 

 

The police - a father and son team - interview the witnesses, who are, simply put, the worst witnesses ever, and find themselves befuddled. 

 

It seems possible that one of the “hostages” assisted the bank robber in escaping, but who? Is everyone lying? Is everyone stupid and/or crazy? What really happened? 

 

If the case isn’t solved, are they going to have to call in the big guns from Stockholm? 

 

And this is just the beginning. 

 

As we find out, everything is connected, and things in many ways trace back to a suicide on a bridge a decade ago - and a suicide that was prevented. 

 

We also discover, bit by bit, all of the anxieties, insecurities, traumas, and dysfunctions of the various characters. As the title hints, all these people - and perhaps all of us as well - are Anxious People. (The original title might translate better as “People with Anxiety.”) 

 

There is Estelle, the older lady who owns the apartment that she is trying to sell - that’s why all these unrelated people are in the apartment when the robber bursts in. She just lost her longtime husband, but also has some other secrets that we discover later. 

 

There is the retired couple, Roger and Anna-Lena, trying to figure out how to have a life together after their careers have ended, particularly in light of the fact that Roger put his career on hold for Anna-Lena, who was always more successful than he was. Now, she wants to make it up to him and prove that she doesn’t see him as a failure. 

 

And yes, visiting every IKEA in Sweden is one of the things they do together. 

 

There is the young lesbian couple, Ro and Julie. Between the heavily pregnant Julie and the somewhat panicking Ro, the quest to find a home to raise their family threatens to be derailed by their struggles to connect despite their histories. 

 

There is Zara, the banker, who has been haunted by the suicide she feels responsible for, and has never let herself experience love. 

 

There is the real estate agent - we never get a name, but she is both incompetent and insecure, and worries that she will fail in her career. 

 

There is Lennert, an actor trying to get by on side gigs, who shows up in his underwear and a rabbit head - I won’t explain more than that, but, well, it’s one of so many humorous moments in this book. 

 

There is the bank robber, who likewise never gets a name, although there is a backstory that we come to understand through a series of big reveals. 

 

We can’t forget the cops either, Jim and Jack, still grieving the loss of Jim’s wife (Jack’s mother), a compassionate priest whose wise counsel is missed almost as much as her love. The two of them also have the difficulties of being both family and co-workers. 

 

We also get to meet Zara’s therapist, Nadia, who is connected to the story in multiple ways; and London, the extremely Gen Z bank teller. 

 

Without getting too much more into the plot, the book somehow manages to address the predatory banking system, suicide, depression, economic stress, divorce, and restorative justice within the context of the most stupid and ridiculous attempted robbery and inadvertent hostage situation ever. 

 

Backman does all this while writing one of the most hilarious things I have read in a long time. And while making pithy and borderline snarky observations on the challenges of being human, of making things up as we go, of the imposter syndrome that affects all of us except the most narcissistic and sociopathic sorts. 

 

The book is heartwarming, hopeful, and likeable. The characters are all deeply flawed, and even troubled, but you can’t help liking them and rooting for them. 

 

And this despite the fact that Backman writes throughout much like one imagines Ove writing: while shaking his cane at all these young people and their culture. Except that obviously Backman also has affection for all these people - even London, who is such a hilarious caricature. 

 

There are too many great bits to mention, and they would probably constitute spoilers. 

 

But I do have to at least say something about the use of “Stockholm,” which, to borrow from Leo Rosten, isn’t a word, but a lexicon in this book. 

 

Sure, it is the capital of Sweden. And also a well-known syndrome, named after a hostage situation which I think Backman drew on for this story. 

 

But there is more. “Stockholm” represents the interference of officious big-city types in local small town affairs. It represents a kind of snobbery of the big city looking down on the small town - and moving in and raising housing prices. And also the related anxiety of the insular small town sorts about their possible inferiority to the cosmopolitans from the big city. 

 

It also is a euphemism for “gay” among the older characters. It’s all in how you say it…which is a definite source of humor throughout the book. 

 

The audiobook is narrated by Marin Ireland, who has a long list of audiobooks to her credit. She does a fantastic job on this one, keeping the voices separate, using different accents, and generally making the experience of listening quite pleasant.