"Loving someone is like moving into a house," Sonja used to say. "At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren't actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it's cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home." 
 The best way that I can sum up this story is with a quote from G.K. Chesterton - that sometimes a "thing must be loved before it is lovable." 
 I can see why this can be a difficult story to enjoy. The Ove we're initially introduced to is not easy to like. Though the words "grumpy old man" are bandied about, they actually undersell how prickly, bitter and acrimonious he can be. But a quick read of the summary basically lets you know that this story will be like Up, only this time the old man's new lease on life stems with his burgeoning familial relationship with a pregnant Iranian woman and a raggedy cat rather than a chubby Asian cub scout and a dopey dog. Unlike Up, though, the story lacks a grand adventure and instead operates at a leisurely pace, its characters concerned with things wholly mundane and everyday. 
 And yet, it it had a way of turning those mundane things beautiful. 
 This is a simple story about one man's small life. But I don't mean small the way that we often use - unimportant or petty or limited. Only that Ove's life is humble and modest - yet because he has love, it is also enough. But then the love of his life dies. And suddenly, nothing can be enough. So Ove begins to plan for ways to join her. That is, of course, until an Iranian woman and her two daughters bully their ways into his life, until his wife's former student shows up on his doorstep, until his oldest friend needs help one last time. And through this all, he finds out that he doesn't have to do it all alone any more. That he never did. That there is life after grief, that there is still love worth sharing even if it isn't with Sonja. 
 This book had a story I loved written in a style I adored. I laughed out loud multiple times, either at the author's consistently creative metaphors or at Ove's unique way of handling life around him. I also flat out sobbed multiple times too - at the quiet depth of love between Ove and Sonja, at the overwhelming feelings of loss after her death, at the redemptive powers of love and empathy and compassion. The greatness of this book lies in its simplicity, in its power to transform every day things - a train ride, a driving lesson, a grumpy old man - into things of beauty. May we all love our spouses the way Ove and Sonja love one another. And may we all have the courage to keep on living the way Ove learns to if they end up passing away first.