I’d planned to study tonight, but this short novella by Fredrik Backman was irresistible. Despite its brevity, The Deal of a Lifetime managed to be dark and pessimistic, yet also suggestive of all the innocence and love in the world. It was a letter from a father to a son, but it wasn’t a conventional letter in the least. It transcended time, splitting the story into fragments, but brought everything together in the end. It talked about a dying five-year-old girl who colored her chair red, the father’s past brushes with death, the “woman with the folder” whose job was to do pick-ups and drop-offs for death.
The story begins with a greeting: “Hi. It’s your dad. You’ll be waking up soon, it’s Christmas Eve morning in Helsingborg, and I’ve killed a person.” Who was that person? If we believe all lives are equal, then should we care to know? And so the father begins to explain, starting with a description of a five-year-old girl with cancer. He shifts through his own painful story that made him into the egoistic, successful, yet self-obsessed person he is: the death of the people he loved, each death accompanied by a glimpse of the woman with the folder. He says that he’ll soon die himself, having been diagnosed with an unusual type of cancer.
Despite the morbid subject matter, The Deal of a Lifetime manages to be heartwarming and engaging, with its simplicity and humor. Backman contrasts the quiet happiness of the son working at a bar with the cynicism of his father who has achieved great things. In doing so, he explores the concept of true happiness through the eyes of a dying pessimist. Backman contrasts the narrator’s wealthy legacy with the little dying girl’s creative personality, inviting readers to join in the agonizing decision of which life should go on and which should end, should such a choice ever be given.
An ultimate exchange, a deal of a lifetime. A stuffed rabbit, a bloody car crash, and a beautiful Swedish backdrop. This novella is a Christmas story, a quirky and original exploration of life, death, and what happens in between. Someday we’ll see “the woman with the folder” for ourselves: what would you like to leave behind for the world to remember?
