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on a scale of wes anderson to fredrik backman, what composition of grief, nostalgia, and the strange wistful longing that comes with the realisation that the human condition is simultaneously the most simple and most complex phenomenon in existence would you rate this?

«late one evening toward the end of march, a teenager picked up a double-barreled shotgun, walked into the forest, put the gun to someone else's forehead, and pulled the trigger.»

i've read this quote from the beginning of «beartown», i've found out who it was about, and i still couldn't stop thinking about a lot more people in the woods who picked up a gun.

some of them are aiming at someone else's chest. some point a gun at their own head. some can be stopped. some decided that there was no other way out.

this book is about the response of violence to violence. it's about evil that takes root deep into the ground and infects everyone even if it started with only one person.

some people know how to resist it. some take the bullets out of the weapon before firing. some return it to the closet without being able to pull the trigger.

we can only move on and hope that this forest is far away, and there are more of those who chose not to respond with cruelty, and love in the hearts of strangers will always displace the evil that has settled in them.

#beartown #fredrick backman #us against you #the winner takes it all #benji ovich #maya andersson

And maybe remembering it will hurt more some days. His laugh, his smile. A couple small glimpses of peace before everything. But on other days, it might hurt just a little less, to know that he was happy