Life has the odds against him. A sharp blow to the head can be the difference between a normal life and one that is barely bearable. Precisely this must journalist and author Niklas Ekdal himself experienced when one day he gets tackled on the football field. After the hit, he can no longer work, do not read or watch TV, do not function socially. In the end he makes a serious suicide attempt in the belief that “anything is better than the headache.”
No one who takes his life can really foresee the consequences. Ekdal simple conclusion is that every such act is a waste. The book he has written, in which he openly highlights the possible driving forces behind a suicide and at the same time knows them, is one of many signs that the taboo begins to break up.
Niklas Ekdal has chosen an approach where the tension stretched to max. Between the short, breathless reports of the crisis, he devotes himself to a kind of closing of its first fifty years philosophizing flashbacks where he sometimes hard to find the balance between self-disclosure and woody.
“How I died “has become an unnecessary bushy book, but the matter can not swerve.
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