Reviews with content warning for Violence - Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine

“Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine” was a most enjoyable read. Once started, I could scarcely put it down until I reached the end. The narrative is told in a first person voice, as Honeyman inhabits the fictional Eleanor, a social misfit with a traumatic past. As our narrator, Eleanor is characterised by a number of traits which could be indicative of autism and/or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, though notably a label is never applied within the narrative. Regardless of a label (or lack thereof), I found Eleanor’s thought patterns rather relatable, albeit I remained generally cognisant of her cognitive errors and the resultant social blunders. I found Eleanor to be a captivating character: quirky and charming, brutally honest and empathetically unaware yet sharp and witty, socially stunted yet undeniably likeable.

The book deals with some potent issues: alcohol dependence, child abuse, social isolation and loneliness, suicidal ideation, and rape, to name a few. However, it is not gratuitous. Rather, it gives us a glimpse into the world of a lonely young woman who does not know how much of life she is missing out on, and slowly peels back our protagonist’s history of trauma, providing the necessary context. As a result, in Eleanor we have a well-written, complex and enchanting character, whose oddities contribute to a narrative that is poised between light and dark, funny and serious. One critique I have for the book, however, is the inconsistent portrayal of Eleanor: the Eleanor at the end of the novel appears to have lost some of her Eleanorness, that which made her unique. I’m not saying she should not heal and grow, but I do think that some of her notable characteristics would realistically remain, even with therapeutic intervention.

Here are some of my favourite quotes from the book:

“I do exist, don't I? It often feels as if I'm not here, that I'm a figment of my own imagination. There are days when I feel so lightly connected to the earth that the threads that tether me to the planet are gossamer thin, spun sugar. A strong gust of wind could dislodge me completely, and l'd lift off and blow away, like one of those seeds in a dandelion clock.”

“I feel sorry for beautiful people. Beauty, from the moment you possess it, is already slipping away, ephemeral. That must be difficult.”

“The cat squirmed in my arms and landed on the carpet with a heavy thump. She strolled over to the litter tray, squatted down and urinated loudly, maintaining extremely assertive eye contact with me throughout. After the deluge, she lazily kicked over the traces with her back legs, scattering litter all over my freshly cleaned floor.
A woman who knew her own mind and scorned the conventions of polite society. We were going to get along just fine.”

I totally resonate with Eleanor’s train of thought in the following quote, as she sat on a seat of a bus while other commuters were filtering in and looking for where to sit:

“I stared at the floor, my mind racing. Did I... did I look like the kind of person who ought to be avoided in a game of bus seat selection? I could only conclude, in the face of the evidence, that I did. But why?
I would have to reason my way to the answer. I wasn't over-weight. I didn't smell - I showered daily, and I laundered my clothes regularly. That left madness, then. Was I mad? No. No, I wasn't. I was suffering from clinical depression, but that was an illness. It wasn't madness. Did I look mad, then? Act mad? I didn't think so. But then, how would I know? Was it my scar? My eczema? My jerkin? Was it a sign of madness even to think you might be mad? I rested my elbows on my knees and placed my head in my hands. Oh God oh God oh God.”

This sort of reasoning is highly reflective of the process that my mind often goes through as I overthink social interactions.

I cannot review this novel without acknowledging and paying due credence the character of Raymond. I am undoubtedly fond of this lovely man. He is not portrayed as being perfect, but despite his flaws he is certainly respectful, kind, gentle, perceptive, patient, generous, and perhaps most significantly, present. By his empathy, he is able to intuit when to address something that Eleanor has said or done or when to leave it lie, and seems to be precisely what Eleanor needed in her life. His presence enables Eleanor to confront her past, defeat her demons, and heal. His example is one more men should follow in our world, and is a breath of fresh air in the crowded assembly of modern literature.

Throughout the novel, Honeyman, through the receptacle of Eleanor, communicates in a charmingly eccentric manner. Her use of language is captivating and beguiling.

The following quote highlights Eleanor’s delightful phrasing, and is emblematic of the way our narrator communicates the story to us throughout the novel:

“A cockerel's dawn crowing had woken me from my slumbers. This glorious morning sound was powered by an AA battery and delivered through a tinny speaker, and was brought about by my setting my alarm clock the previous evening, rather than, as is the case in our avian friends, raised levels of testosterone and sunlight.“

“Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine” is a charming novel that will live long in my memory and likely stand as one of my favorite reads of the year. Honeyman masterfully blends humour and heartbreak, leaving the reader with a story that is touching, tender, thought-provoking, yet hilarious. Eleanor’s journey reminds us of the importance of human connection and serves as a poignant exploration of what it truly means to be “fine.”

Content Warnings