A desperately schmaltzy read- but the warm-heartedness and charm won me round. A really enjoyable book, perfect for a cold and dreary day. It’s translated from the Swedish – but it’s the very opposite of Scandi-noir!
This is a book about books. All sorts of books, from Little Women and Harry Potter to Jodi Picoult and Jane Austen, from to Stieg Larsson to Joyce Carol Oates to Proust. It’s about the joy and pleasure of books, about learning from and escaping into them, and possibly even hiding behind them. It’s about whether or not books are better than real life. It’s also a book about a Swedish girl called Sara, her elderly American penfriend Amy and what happens when you land a very different kind of bookshop in the middle of a town so broken it’s almost beyond repair. Or is it?