The imperative of storytelling

My Grandmother Sends Her Regards and Apologies

Fredrik Backman

UK: Sceptre, 2016

Pp. 342

Swedish author Fredrik Backman has produced a modern fairy tale, a tantalising combination of realism and fantasy so skilfully interwoven that, in the end, one doesn’t know which is which. But it doesn’t matter. That’s the point: Imagination is a real human capacity, rooted in our physical brains but constantly venturing beyond the boundaries of what is considered real. It is the driving force behind much technological advance as well as art, music, literature and culture generally.

To tell his tale, Backman has created a number of larger-than-life characters, some with mythical overtones. Most prominent are Elsa and her grandmother. At seven years old, Elsa spans the tech and imaginary spheres, having mastered the art of gaining information by googling Wikipedia at an early age and at the same time cherishing magic. Her favourite stories are Harry Potter and the fairy tales told to her by her grandmother. She also loves the superheroes that all children today love, but her favourite superhero is her grandmother, who often does outrageous things and is considered a bit crazy but once was a doctor, “who went to all the most terrible places in the world when everyone else was getting out. She saved lives and fought evil everywhere on earth. As superheroes do… life-saving and driving people nuts are Granny’s superpowers”. (pp. 2-3)

As the story opens, Elsa is in crisis because her grandmother is dying, and Elsa cannot imagine life without her and the magical tales she spins. These are not the usual fairy tales, but an intricate mythology of six kingdoms each devoted to a particular realm: dreams, sorrow, music, courage, the home of warriors and storytelling, the latter being Elsa’s and her grandmother’s favourite. Their fairy tales involve the classic good vs evil battle; the enemy is “the shadows” that want to kill the imagination.

The story centres around a normal Swedish apartment house with seemingly ordinary neighbours, some endearing and some irritating, but as the story progresses, Elsa finds that each of the tenants have a parallel in the magical world, as well as a past with Grandmother. Most have a reason for their current negative or eccentric personalities. The flip side of the fairy tale is deeply human stories that involve the horrors of war and the parent-child relationship thrown off track. As Elsa discovers the real-life counterparts of the fairy tale figures, she becomes wiser and learns that “not all monsters were monsters in the beginning. Some are monsters born of sorrow”. (p. 117)

Yet, a few monsters are irredeemable, and Elsa is threatened by them as she continues uncovering her grandmother’s story. The battle between good and evil in the real world is not over, and this makes for a good deal of suspense and thrilling chases, as well as a few heart-breaking scenes.

Storytelling doubles as the vehicle for the plot, and as therapy and affirmation for those who need healing from devastating experiences. As one character tells Elsa, “this country’s so willing to put billions into weapons and fighter jets, but when those boys come home and they’ve seen [what] they’ve seen, no one can be bothered to listen to them for even five minutes… People have to tell their stories, Elsa. Or else they suffocate”. (p. 288)

This book is very entertaining: Backman’s subtle, sly, typically Scandinavian humour is refreshing and fun. At the same time, the story packs a powerful message against war, cruelty and conformity and for imagination, greater human kindness and forgiveness. Elsa is an unforgettable character.

Sally Bland