But I’m not, not really, and that’s fine, too.
Reading Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine was a whirlwind of emotions. To tell the truth, I was ready to stop reading the book sometime in chapter four. I was getting tired of Eleanor’s attitude towards other people and things, and while there were some funny thoughts here and there, it was unsustainable. A whole book of that? No thanks. And then I find out there is more to her sterile personality, ahem, plot twist, and I was hooked. Good thing I decided to read one more chapter; otherwise, I would have missed out on possibly one of my favorite reads
in a long time ever.
I loved getting to know Eleanor as she maneuvered through her newly found social life. Somehow I found myself relating to her a little, with her quirks and all. From why-can’t-people-write-properly to I-can’t-believe-I-blew-this-out-of-proportion, I could see a little of myself in her, and I think, you do you, Eleanor! You are so brave. You do not cower behind the fear of social stigma. How to be like you po? (Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is: you don’t want that for yourself. It’s just refreshing to see someone else be different.)
Be warned though: this book is not a light read. It’s a quick read, but it’s definitely not light. I consumed this book in two or three sittings, but I was on an emotional roller coaster in which I almost shed some tears. Gail Honeyman was not afraid to take her readers’ hearts and clench them so tightly that they might feel the pain of a lifelong loneliness and denial. No, Eleanor Oliphant is not fine, and it took her the better part of 30 years to realize this. It’s okay, Eleanor, let it all out.
As for me, well, I’m going to have myself a little cry, but don’t let that stop you from picking up the book.