I should have been suspicious from the beginning since I usually do not like novels that start with a map and a list of the main characters. This novel was no exception. It should have been called “How to waste a Sunday.”
The reason I bought this novel was a review that described it as “an exciting and cheerful novel you’ll cuddle up with in your favorite chair, with a blanket over your feet.” I completely disagree. However, I realize that I probably do not belong to the novel’s target market. If you on the other hand have turned eighty, use words that young people would not understand, and do not mind an excessive use of aristocratic names like Severin Brattenskiöld then you may want to consider reading this novel.
It does not help that the main character Erik Gyllenberg is a retired Bank Manager, who cannot even boil an egg when his housekeeper is gone, uses galoshes, and that he describes the grocery store with the following words: “Today’s grocery stores do not resemble the ones from my youth. An electronic gate opened when I entered this grocery temple. I did the same as the man in front of me and grabbed a plastic basket from a stack.” If at least the plot and ending had been decent it may have saved the novel, but the author does not succeed here either.
The novel ends with an interesting cliffhanger, but there is still no chance that I will read the sequel.