The One Hundred Year Old Man Who…

It soon becomes apparent that Alan’s motivation for absconding is Director Alice’s prohibition on his vodka drinking. Vodka drinking is a very important activity in Alan’s life. To say he likes to drink vodka is like saying the Pope is a little bit Catholic. He agrees with a theory he inherited from his father that ‘… reliable people didn’t drink fruit juice’. Given the volume of vodka he consumes, it’s surprising he made it to 100; then again, raw alcohol does have preservative properties.

The One Hundred Year Old Man Who Climbed Out The Window And Disappeared alternates between the contemporary tale of Allan’s time on the run and anecdotes from his past; a history which fills out his character while taking the reader through a rough guide to 20th century world history and politics, albeit as seen through the eyes of a reluctant participant.

The plot requires an obvious comparison: Alan’s impromptu appearances at major historical events echo the activities of Forrest Gump in the movie of the same name. Jonasson’s subtle manipulation of his narrative, to place Alan in situations where his minor contributions have major impact on world events, is much like the butterfly effect where a wing flap produces a hurricane. Happily, Jonasson succeeds in tying together a completely unlikely series of events, with coincidences that beggar belief, in such a way as to make the story entirely plausible:

‘… but first they needed to know what sort of animal they had heard from the barn. / –That was Sonya, said The Beauty. My elephant. / –Elephant? said Julius. / –Elephant? said Allan. / –I thought I recognized that sound, said Benny.’

The story is pure comedy. The humour is dry and should probably be described as black, but Jonasson keeps the tone of his writing light enough for a dark shade of grey to be more accurate:

‘Allan, himself, was curled up for protection behind the outhouse and could neither see nor hear anything. Not until he returned to the gravel pit, did he realize that something had gone wrong. Bits of Gustavsson’s automobile were spread out over half the pit, and here and there lay bits of Gustavsson himself.’

The rhythm of the prose retains the feel of English spoken by a Scandinavian. This would be understandable had Jonasson, a Swede, written in English, but he wrote the original in Swedish. It is the skill of the translator, Rod Bradbury, that ensures the success of the English-language version:

‘… He had been staying in a fancy hotel for a while now. He ate in a restaurant every evening, and on this particular early January day he sat with the sun in his face and felt how it warmed his body and soul. / Of course, it was bit cold for his bottom, and so it was a little surprising when a man sat down right next to Allan.’

Overall, The One Hundred Year Old Man Who Climbed Out The Window And Disappeared is a thoroughly entertaining read. While the chain of coincidences pushes the limits of credibility, the humour more than compensates and causes much laughing out loud. A great accompaniment to your favourite vodka.

Rating: 4 stars out of 5