I read Gail Honeyman’s Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine six months ago, and I liked it. I really liked it. It feels wrong to say that I enjoyed a novel about a deeply lonely woman with stunted social skills who is often extremely rude and politically incorrect. The constructive feedback is hard to ignore. I agree with the points that Eleanor’s naivete in social settings at times feels more like an unjust caricature of her, rather than an accurate portrayal of her intelligence. Those points seem fair and valid. The discussion on mental health does feel superficial, despite the crux of the novel being about loneliness. So, I’ve procrastinated writing my review. Waiting to see if I would feel differently about Eleanor. But, nope. Time only confirmed that Eleanor is an enduring character who will be lodged somewhere in my psyche indefinitely.

First, maybe it’s ok to have a novel that touches on serious topics, like mental health, without having to be weighed down by it. A book that is a starter conversation and serves these topics in bite size pieces, rather than a full entree. Of course, that is up for discussion on how to balance that tone effectively. The tone of the novel does feel increasingly darker toward the end, and the darkest moments felt like a sudden shift for me compared to the other lighthearted moments of Eleanor’s journey.

Second, Eleanor is funny. I can definitely relate to her internal monologue and have had similar conversations in my head. When we ride the bus, how many of us have wondered who will sit next to us? If anyone will even choose us? Probably many, many of us.

“Did I…did I look like the kind of person to be avoided in a game of bus seat selection?”

Eleanor’s narration brought a fresh perspective to small or even mundane moments. I felt like I was experiencing some of them for the first time. Or, I found myself reminiscing about moments when I acted similarly, like in my youth and being infatuated with an idea of a person rather than the actual person. Eleanor’s relatable moments were poignant. I couldn’t help but empathize with her efforts to be a better person. Plus, her boldness, or rather directness was admirable, such as when she refused drinks from someone.

“‘No thank you,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to accept a drink from you, because then I would be obliged to purchase one for you in return, and I’m afraid I’m simply not interested in spending two drinks’ worth of time with you.’”

Also, I just loved that she said this about her cat:

“A woman who knew her own mind and scorned the conventions of polite society. We were going to get along just fine.”

Third, the novel explores platonic friendship. It isn’t a placeholder friendship for a “will they or won’t they” scenario. (Well, who knows what happens in the future?) But, the point being, the friendship is about people caring for each other and not giving up on the person, even when they’re acting at their worst.

“I pondered what else I should take for him. Flowers seemed wrong; they're a love token, after all. I looked in the fridge, and popped a packet of cheese slices into the bag. All men like cheese.”
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