My Friends by Fredrik Backman

Summary (from the publisher): My Friends by Fredrik Backman is a deeply moving literary novel that explores the meaning of friendship, loyalty, and the invisible ties that shape our lives.

With warmth, humor, and emotional depth, Backman tells a powerful story about human connection and the lasting impact of the people who stand beside us through life’s most defining moments.

Richly layered and beautifully written, this novel captures both heartbreak and hope, making it an unforgettable reading experience.

Perfect for readers who love character-driven fiction and emotionally resonant storytelling.

Review: Listen, no one is more disappointed than this review than me. Virtually every other review I have seen of this book has given it a glowing, no notes, 5-star review. Unfortunately, it just did not work for me, and I should have DNF'd it but was convinced throughout that it would somehow get better. 

This is meant to be a moving portrait of art, friendship, found family, and the intricate nature of human connections. In it, we see two individuals bonded over a recently dead author and his famous painting of his friends laughing and looking out over the sea. I appreciated that one of the main characters grew up in foster care and that several of the characters had difficult childhoods. I liked the pursuit of art and making connections with those we happen to wind up spending time with. 

Things that I struggled with: 

- I just did not buy that the author would leave his life savings to the person he did. I didn't buy it. It felt too random, tenuous, and overlooking of his devoted friend.

- Why was the author so insistent on referring to the character as The Artist. It felt theatrical and nonsensical. He had a name. He was known by them. It was silly. 

- It was sad that Louisa has lost her best friend in the world, a fellow foster care youth named Fish. But I never felt any true emotional connection because I never met Fish and only got random stories about her through Louisa. I just didn't feel connected or moved by her death or The Artist's death, the way other readers seem to be. I think in part this is because we only ever see them through recollections. 

- The writing came across as maudlin rather than moving to me. 

- I do not think farts are funny. This was a central, oft repeated anecdote and an incident that inspired the painting around which much of the novel revolved. It just didn't land with me. 

- This had relatively little plot and is very character driven. Ordinarily, this is the type of novel I love! But I just did not find myself pulled to the characters, their stories, or their connections in any way. At heart, Louisa gets an incredible, largely undeserved gift, meets some friends, it changes her life. She is the unlikely recipient of the outcomes of a friendship that began many years before her - that's the book. Sorry for the spoiler? Maybe? 

Maybe I just wasn't in the right mood, or it wasn't the right time for me to read this. Maybe I should have read it with my eyeballs - although I have to say the audio was well done and I enjoyed the narrator's voice. Wish this had moved me to tears and a 5-star rating like it has so many others! I'm sorry!

Stars: 2