This is the craziest book I’ve read in a while. Ethan picked up The Indian, by Jón Gnarr, because it was Icelandic. Almost no other reason. It’s just hard to find Icelandic books here. And he read it in only a few days, laughed hysterically, and told me I had to drop everything and read it immediately.
So I did. And this book is a laugh riot. It’s like Calvin and Hobbes, but with swearing. And it’s true (or mostly true, anyways.) The book is a memoir by the author, who talks about his childhood. He had ADHD, several learning disabilities, very little behavioral inhibitions, and older parents who couldn’t keep up with him. The book alternates between hilarious and heartbreaking, as he talks about his shenanigans, his family dysfunction, and his consuming loneliness as a child.
As a boy, Jón set his room on fire because he wanted to read Duck Tales by a blazing campfire like a real Indian would. And if that doesn’t convince you to pick up the book…well, you’re probably not the target audience anyway. ♦