This review contains descriptions that may spoil the events of the novel, but will not ruin the experience of reading it. There will also be discussion of sexual assault.

“If you are honest, people may deceive you. Be honest anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfishness. Be kind anyway. All the good you do today will be forgotten by others tomorrow. Do good anyway.”

Beartown was written in 2016 by Swedish author Fredrik Backman. Originally published in Swedish under the title Björnstad, the novel was translated into English by Neil Smith. Originally, I thought this was a book about hockey, but I was wrong. It's about a silent town in the woods, the people in that town, and what they would do to protect whatever or whoever they love. 

The novel follows Peter Andersson, General Manager (or “GM”) of Beartown Ice Hockey; his daughter, Maya; and her friend Ana, as well as multiple members of the Beartown Juniors hockey team: underdog Amat, golden boy Kevin, and his loyal friend Benji. 

Beartown Ice Hockey’s Junior team is the best they’ve ever been and have made it to the finals, so close to reaching the town’s dream of having a nationally ranked junior team. Needless to say, the pressure is on. At a party the night after a big hockey game, Kevin Erdahl is dared that he couldn’t get the GM’s daughter to have sex with him. In a desire to win this bet and to prove himself to his teammates, Kevin rapes Maya. As Kevin is the star player, the town’s golden boy, and Beartown’s only hope of winning the finals, Maya is put in an impossible situation. The lives of these characters and their entire town are irreparably changed following this life-altering event. 

If Backman succeeded in one thing in this book, it’s his characters. At every new chapter and with the turn of every page, Backman eloquently delivers a character that relays insight into human nature that I've never thought about, but somehow have always needed. His characters are deep and rich to the point where I don’t hate any of them—even the ones I thought I should've (I'm looking at you, Kevin). Around two pages are spent talking about a man who was intensely homophobic, a generational attitude inherited by his son. In any other situation, I probably would've found myself disliking them both for their hatred, but Backman has a way of making his characters grow and alter my perspective on them in just one or two sentences. The son goes from “shaking all over” and feeling “ashamed and disgusted” seeing a boy he’s been a father figure to for years kissing another boy, to realizing that “there’s no other way to explain how much a grown man must have failed as a person if such a warrior of a boy could believe that his coach would be less proud of him if he were gay. David hates himself for not being better than his dad” (Backman 367, 371). With one line Backman has wholly altered the perception of this character; David goes from someone you think is inheriting his generational hatred with no question, to someone beginning to change his ways. Backman’s characters learn in every line, but never in a way that seems obvious or boring. The writing is developed, and the way the characters are thinking makes you learn the lessons along with them.

Although all the characters carried meaning, there were a lot of them. Because of this, I tended to lose track of them while reading. For example, if the plot is following Peter, then all of a sudden it switches and begins to talk about Peter’s old friend from youth hockey, it’s easy to get confused with who is who, and some characters even fall into the abyss and aren't given names. While it’s a common and popular literary tool to keep an unnamed narrator or protagonist, the unnamed characters of Beartown tend to be side characters who still have a rather significant impact on the book. One of the characters who didn’t get a name was David’s girlfriend. For a book where the main plot and conflict was the story of a woman experiencing sexual assault, the concept of having an unnamed pregnant girlfriend makes her seem like less of a woman in her own right, and more of a remnant of the manic pixie dream girl trope—a woman only in the story to talk to David when he’s freaking out about hockey or fatherhood. 

Despite this large amount of characters, each plotline tended to be wrapped up with each character getting their own redemption or conclusion that made sense for them, even if it may be unsatisfying to the reader to have so many plotlines to tie up. These are characters like Robbie Holts, Ramona, and Jeanette. Their conclusion arcs weren’t vital for the flow of the novel but were given anyway, allowing for a greater understanding of these characters, but making the end of the novel rockier, as opposed to a smooth flow to the ending.

Beartown is a fantastic novel that really makes readers think about friendship, trust, and growth in a way that doesn’t feel like a lecture, nor does it leave readers confused and sent off into the deep end of intrapersonal communication or interpersonal relationships. The novel’s unbridled deliberation of common locker room culture is ever so relevant in our society today, and adds to all the reasons I would recommend it to anyone, hockey fan or not. Every human being has something to benefit from this novel, and I couldn’t recommend it more.