When the Cranes Fly South - First Read of 2026

 

When the Cranes Fly South by Lisa Ridzen

Translated from the Swedish by Alice Menzies

Fiction

2025

Finished on January 1, 2026

Rating: 3.5/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Bo is running out of time. Yet time is one of the few things he's got left. These days, his quiet existence is broken up only by daily visits from his home care team. Fortunately, he still has his beloved elkhound Sixten to keep him company... though now his son, with whom Bo has had a rocky relationship, insists on taking the dog away, claiming Bo has grown too old to properly care for him. The threat of losing Sixten stirs up a whirlwind of emotion, leading Bo to take stock of his life, his relationships, and the imperfect way he's expressed his love over the years.

Several of my friends have recommended When the Cranes Fly South, so I picked up a copy at Winter River Books in Bandon last September when we were down there for a little get-away. The author lives in Sweden and was inspired to write this debut after discovering notes about her grandfather's care toward the end of his life. I enjoyed this quiet story, and the translation is smooth and readable, but I wasn't moved to tears as others have expressed in their reviews. It's a touching tale, but it fell a little short of my expectations. 

The Housekeeper and the Professor

 

The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa

Fiction

2009 Picador (first published in 2003)

Finished on May 23, 2023

Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

He is a brilliant math Professor with a peculiar problem--ever since a traumatic head injury, he has lived with only eighty minutes of short-term memory.

She is an astute young Housekeeper, with a ten-year-old son, who is hired to care for him.

And every morning, as the Professor and the Housekeeper are introduced to each other anew, a strange and beautiful relationship blossoms between them. Though he cannot hold memories for long (his brain is like a tape that begins to erase itself every eighty minutes), the Professor’s mind is still alive with elegant equations from the past. And the numbers, in all of their articulate order, reveal a sheltering and poetic world to both the Housekeeper and her young son. The Professor is capable of discovering connections between the simplest of quantities--like the Housekeeper’s shoe size--and the universe at large, drawing their lives ever closer and more profoundly together, even as his memory slips away.

The Housekeeper and the Professor is an enchanting story about what it means to live in the present, and about the curious equations that can create a family.

There was a lot of buzz about The Housekeeper and the Professor a decade or so ago. Many of my blogging friends raved about this thoughtful novel, and when I came across it while browsing in a favorite independent bookstore (Cloud & Leaf Bookstore in Manzanita, Oregon), I decided it was time to finally buy a copy. The book is only 180 pages, and can be read in a day or two, but I chose to savor this quiet novel, which is very readable despite the vast array of mathematical equations and formulas. You don't need to be a math whiz to enjoy this story, nor do you have to care about baseball, the latter of which was unexpected and an added bonus! 

As noted in the publisher's blurb, the Professor suffers from memory loss, living with only eighty minutes of memory. And yet, he is fully capable of solving (and teaching) complex mathematical equations, bringing him joy and comfort. 

Soon after I began working for the Professor, I realized that he talked about numbers whenever he was unsure of what to say or do. Numbers were also his way of reaching out to the world. They were safe, a source of comfort.

In addition to helping the Housekeeper's son with his homework, the Professor shares an interest in baseball with his new friends. None of the three have ever been to a game in person, so the Housekeeper decides to treat them to a Tigers game against Hiroshima. 

As we reached the top of the stairs that led to the seats above third base, all three of us let out a cry. The diamond in all its grandeur was laid out before us--the soft, dark earth of the infield, the spotless bases, the straight white lines, and the manicured grass. The evening sky seemed so close you could touch it, and at that moment, as if they had been awaiting our arrival, the lights came on. The stadium looked like a spaceship descended from the heavens.

I love it when a book forces me to slow down and pause, making me think more deeply about the actions and connections between characters. Not only did I feel this way about The Housekeeper and the Professor, but I noticed that I was reflecting on similar novels such as The Samurai's Garden by Gail Tsukiyama (another lovely, quiet Japanese novel) and The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery. Perhaps it's the tender bond that develops between strangers, kindness expressed, patience observed, ultimately growing into close friendships, or even love, that links these works of literary fiction. Or, maybe it's the simplicity of beautiful writing, not a single wasted word.

Highly recommend. I loved it.

Beartown

 

Beartown by Fredrik Backman

Fiction

2018 Washington Square Press (first published in 2016)

Finished on March 7, 2021

Rating: 5/5 (Outstanding)

Publisher's Blurb:

The bestselling author of A Man Called Ove returns with a dazzling, profound novel about a small town with a big dream—and the price required to make it come true.

People say Beartown is finished. A tiny community nestled deep in the forest, it is slowly losing ground to the ever-encroaching trees. But down by the lake stands an old ice rink, built generations ago by the working men who founded this town. And in that ice rink is the reason people in Beartown believe tomorrow will be better than today. Their junior ice hockey team is about to compete in the national semi-finals, and they actually have a shot at winning. All the hopes and dreams of this place now rest on the shoulders of a handful of teenage boys.

Being responsible for the hopes of an entire town is a heavy burden, and the semi-final match is the catalyst for a violent act that will leave a young girl traumatized and a town in turmoil. Accusations are made and, like ripples on a pond, they travel through all of Beartown, leaving no resident unaffected.

Beartown explores the hopes that bring a small community together, the secrets that tear it apart, and the courage it takes for an individual to go against the grain. In this story of a small forest town, Fredrik Backman has found the entire world.

A Gentleman in Moscow. All the Light We Cannot See. State of Wonder. City of Thieves. Cutting for Stone. The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. The Help. The Sparrow. The Book Thief. A Prayer for Owen Meany. Beach Music. Plainsong. What do all of these books have in common with Beartown? They are simply a few of my all-time favorite literary novels, most of which took several chapters before I became fully invested in their stories. They are the sort of books that are filled with memorable characters and plots that do more than just entertain. I was not expecting to add Beartown to this collection of favorites, but I have!

I was born in Ontario, Canada and yet I have never been to a hockey game, nor have I watched it on TV. Even when the U.S. team beat the Soviet Union, winning the gold medal in the 1980 Winter Olympics, I only saw the highlights. So when I first heard that Beartown was about a hockey team, I wasn't in the least bit interested, even though I had read and loved A Man Called Ove. I also read and enjoyed My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry, but I wasn't convinced I would feel the same about Beartown. 

When I found out about the HBO series based on this book, I decided it was time to give it a try so I could read it before watching the show. Reading other reviews and comments, I knew it would take a while to get interested in the story, so I was pleased that it only took me a few chapters before I got a handle on all the characters (and there are A LOT!) and their relationships with one another. Thankfully, I wasn't required to suffer through pages of detailed explanations of the rules and regulations of hockey. Quite honestly, Beartown could be about a small town football, basketball or baseball team (although I would have eagerly jumped on a book about baseball), since the focus is less on the game and more on the dynamics of the team and coaching staff, as well as the members of the community. 

In any case, I loved the book and I'm so glad I stuck with it through those early chapters. There are so many great characters, many of whom I came to love (and worry about), especially Maya, Ana, Amat, Benji and Bobo. Backman's narrative is linear with numerous points of view and some readers might find this constant shifting of perspectives jarring or clunky, but I appreciated getting to follow each of the main characters' feelings and reactions, which gives the book a more intimate experience than it might have with just one or two points of view. 

So there you go. I have my second 5-star rating for 2021. I love to read and enjoy light and humorous books, as well as spellbinding thrillers and mysteries, but it is such a joy to read a provocative work of contemporary fiction. 

Highly recommend!

Kirkus Reviews says it best:

Backman is a masterful writer, his characters familiar yet distinct, flawed yet heroic.... There are scenes that bring tears, scenes of gut-wrenching despair, and moments of sly humor.... This is about more than youth sports; it's part coming-of-age novel, part study of moral failure, and finally a chronicle of groupthink in which an unlikely hero steps forward to save more than one person from self-destruction. A thoroughly empathetic examination of the fragile human spirit, Backman's latest will resonate a long time. 

Convenience Store Woman

Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata
Translated from the Japanese by Ginny Tapley Takemori
Fiction
2018 Grove Press
Finished on January 21, 2020
Rating: 1/5 (Poor)

Publisher's Blurb:

Keiko Furukura had always been considered a strange child, and her parents always worried how she would get on in the real world, so when she takes on a job in a convenience store while at university, they are delighted for her. For her part, in the convenience store she finds a predictable world mandated by the store manual, which dictates how the workers should act and what they should say, and she copies her coworkers' style of dress and speech patterns so she can play the part of a normal person. However, eighteen years later, at age 36, she is still in the same job, has never had a boyfriend, and has only few friends. She feels comfortable in her life but is aware that she is not living up to society's expectations and causing her family to worry about her. When a similarly alienated but cynical and bitter young man comes to work in the store, he will upset Keiko's contented stasis—but will it be for the better?

Sayaka Murata brilliantly captures the atmosphere of the familiar convenience store that is so much part of life in Japan. With some laugh-out-loud moments prompted by the disconnect between Keiko's thoughts and those of the people around her, she provides a sharp look at Japanese society and the pressure to conform, as well as penetrating insights into the female mind. Convenience Store Woman is a fresh, charming portrait of an unforgettable heroine that recalls Banana Yoshimoto, Han Kang, and Amelie.

My dear friend Meredith (of Dolce Bellezza) has been hosting a Japanese Literature challenge for the past 13 years. Every year I consider participating in this event, but I have to admit it's not a genre I particularly care for. Prior to reading Convenience Store Woman, I think the only other translated Japanese book that I've read is Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto. I was disappointed with both of these books, not quite understanding their large appeal. While perusing the reviews on Goodreads for Convenience Store Woman, I was surprised to see so many 4 and 5 star ratings. Not only did readers love this novel, but they thought it was brilliant! I scrolled and scrolled, searching for a 1 or 2 star rating, but they were few and far between. I am definitely in the minority on this one. The dialogue was unrealistic and stilted and the premise of the story was unsettling and ridiculous. After a dozen or so pages, I grew bored and impatient to finish. Had it not been such a short book, I would have given up halfway through.

Click here to read Bellezza's thoughts on this novel.

The Red Address Book

The Red Address Book by Sofia Lundberg
Translated by Alice Menzies
Fiction
2017 Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Finished on March 24, 2019
Rating: 2/5 (Fair)

Publisher's Blurb:

For fans of A Man Called Ove and The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared comes a heartwarming debut about 96-year-old Doris, who writes down her memories as she pages through her decades-old address book. But the most profound moment of her life is still to come . . .

Meet Doris, a 96-year-old woman living alone in her Stockholm apartment. She has few visitors, but her weekly Skype calls with Jenny--her American grandniece, and her only relative--give her great joy and remind her of her own youth.

When Doris was a girl, she was given an address book by her father, and ever since she has carefully documented everyone she met and loved throughout the years. Looking through the little book now, Doris sees the many crossed-out names of people long gone and is struck by the urge to put pen to paper. In writing down the stories of her colorful past--working as a maid in Sweden, modelling in Paris during the 30s, fleeing to Manhattan at the dawn of the Second World War--can she help Jenny, haunted by a difficult childhood, unlock the secrets of their family and finally look to the future? And whatever became of Allan, the love of Doris's life?

A charming novel that prompts reflection on the stories we all should carry to the next generation, and the surprises in life that can await even the oldest among us, The Red Address Book introduces Sofia Lundberg as a wise--and irresistible--storyteller.


I wish I could give this a higher rating, but I really didn't like it and only finished because it wasn't that long. Maybe something was lost in the translation, but the dialogue was simplistic and awkward and the relationship between Doris' grandniece and husband was predictable and sappy, spoiling the narrative for this reader. I discovered this book through several blogging friends, many of whom enjoyed it quite a bit better than I. I like reading about aging characters, and loved Emily, Alone by Stewart O'Nan and A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Bachman, but this one left me wanting something a bit more substantial. 

Like Family

Like Family by Paolo Giordano
Fiction
2015 Pamela Dorman Books (Viking)
Translated by Anne Milano Appel
Finished on January 2, 2016
Rating: 3.5/5 (Good)

Publisher’s Blurb:

From the author of the international bestseller The Solitude of Prime Numbers, an exquisite portrait of marriage, adulthood, and the meaning of family.

Paolo Giordano’s prizewinning debut novel, The Solitude of Prime Numbers, catapulted the young Italian author into the literary spotlight. His new novel features his trademark character-driven narrative and intimate domestic setting that first made him an international sensation.

When a young married couple hires a middle-aged widow during the wife’s, Nora’s, difficult pregnancy, they don’t realize the dominant force she will become in their household. First as their maid and nanny, then their confidante, Signora A. quickly becomes the glue that holds their small family together. For both husband and wife, her benign influence allows them to negotiate the complexities of married life; for their young son, she becomes the shield who protects him from his parents’ expectations and disappointments.

But the family’s delicate fabric comes undone when Signora A. is diagnosed with cancer. Moving seamlessly between the past and present, highlighting the joys of youth and the fleeting nature of time, Giordano has created an exquisite portrait of adulthood and marriage. Elegiac, heartrending, and deeply personal, this is a jewel of a novel—short, intense, and unforgettable.

I received this lovely book for my birthday from my dear friend, Bellezza. It’s a small book, maybe 5x7, with just 146 pages in all. I fell in love with the stunning cover art as soon as I unwrapped my gift. It’s the sort of book one would leave out on a table, just for that beautiful image. And, there’s something about the compact size of small hardcovers, such as this one and a few others that are on my “keeper” shelves. They’re little works of art, each and every one of them.

They are so aesthetically appealing and so much easier to hold than traditional hardcovers. (Note: I find it interesting that all of these, with the exception of Like Family, are nonfiction/memoirs.) But I digress.

I read this slim novel in just a few short hours. I liked Giordano’s spare prose, but I didn't really feel the intended emotional impact of the characters' loss. Our Souls at Night (Kent Haruf), which is also a short novel about aging and loss, had a much more profound impact on me, as did Emily, Alone (Stewart O’Nan).

There really was a Mrs. A. in my life. She stayed in my house, shared life with my family for a few years, then she had to leave us. This book was inspired by her story. It was meant as a homage to her, a way to keep her with me a little longer. I’ve changed most of the names and I’ve changed several details, but not what I felt was the nature of Mrs. A. And, certainly, not what was my feeling toward her. ~ Paolo Giordano

Final Thoughts:

Like Family is a quiet narrative, easily read in a single day. Many readers have loved this novel, which in many ways reads like a memoir. Have you read it or Giordano’s previous work, The Solitude of Prime Numbers?