Becoming everything they disliked

It is one of those Fridays that feels eternal. As if there is time for everything that is needed and a little more. I am reading a book that is very much discussed in Sweden at the moment. It is about a marriage that breaks after years of quarrels, discussions, limitations and compromises, which is not necessarily so uncommon. However, in this story the quarrels are not different opinions but become insults and the compromises make both parties losing themselves. A relationship where both of them grow so similar that they one day start to despise the other one for becoming everything they see within themselves and dislike.

It is a beautifully written book, with rhythm and sincerity. But it is also written from one's perspective, claiming both's. That is my main concern. We can never do that to other people; claiming that we know what the world looks like from their perspective. Assuming we know their narrative. We can only empathise with what we believe are other's struggle, trying to understand. But I guess I am wrong here, am I not? It is fiction. And therefore she has the right to write whatever she wants and this is a story about two unhappy people in an abusive relationship. It might not even be her narrative, however it is her book.