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Book Review (Fiction): Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine


Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine

Gail Honeyman
                              
HarperCollins Publishers 2017                                                                       386 Pages


Norman Bates of Psycho infamy had to live with the malign specter of “Mother” that drove him to murder. The eponymous Eleanor in Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine similarly labors under the ghost of poisonously murderous “Mummy” – but copes rather better than poor Norman ever did.

At least, Eleanor never kills anyone. An abortive suicide attempt fortuitously interrupted doesn't count. Key to her survival (and relative sanity) are daily routines rigidly followed, her single-minded professionalism in an underpaid and thankless job as a finance administration assistant for a graphic arts agency and vodka-fueled weekends before the TV set in her Glasgow council flat. The British welfare state has much to commend it; one gets the feeling that had first-time author Gail Honeyman’s protagonist the misfortune to be American, she would have become a homeless destitute suffering aggravated mental illness very soon.

For Eleanor is an essentially damaged soul, both physically and emotionally scarred by an awful childhood of neglect, violence and emotional abuse inflicted on her by a mentally ill single mother. Followed later by rape and physical assault as a university student studying the classics…

This excellent debut novel is essentially about loneliness; in Eleanor’s own words – “There was, it seemed, no Eleanor-shaped social hole for me to slot into.” With more to say on the subject - “I took one of my hands in the other, tried to imagine what it would feel like if it was another person's hand holding mine. There have been times where I felt that I might die of loneliness.” 

Thanks to a childhood trauma that left her short of social skills, the eccentric Eleanor pratfalls through the early chapters, an acute observer of the petty foibles of the office life she’s not really a part of. Every office has an Eleanor; the kind of person who shies away from group activities, doesn’t talk about anything beyond immediate work-related issues and probably doesn’t have much of a life after hours. Awkward Eleanor has no social filters and blurts out whatever she’s thinking – to frequent comic effect.

“I had no idea how to respond, and opted for a smile, which serves me well on most occasions (not if it's something to do with death or illness, though - I know that now.)” 

If all this sounds unrelentingly grim, it really isn't. Eschewing sentimental melodrama, this narrative of quiet warmth and a deep, unspoken sadness is still oddly, comfortingly funny in its wry observation of the small quirks and idiosyncrasies of everyday life. Eleanor barricades herself from her peers with a comic formally of thought and speech which results in several unintentionally amusing observations such as this, on a shop assistant – “She had tried to steer me towards vertiginous heels again - why are these people so incredibly keen on crippling their female customers? I began to wonder if cobblers and chiropractors had established some fiendish cartel.” 

Eleanor’s closed - and empty – life gradually begins to open out, thanks to two very unlikely benefactors, and the operation of blind chance. Raymond Gibbons, the new IT guy in her workplace, strikes up an acquaintance with Eleanor after fixing her malfunctioning desktop. On a stroll outside after office hours, the mismatched duo witness an elderly pensioner Sammy McMurray Thom collapsing on the pavement. Awkward but conscientious, Raymond immediately phones emergency services while Eleanor is deputed to tend to the unconscious Sammy until an ambulance arrives.

This spur-of-the-moment act of unpremeditated kindness leads to hospital visits and unplanned friendships spontaneously formed with ebullient, gregarious Sammy and his adult children. Unshaven, shambling computer nerd Raymond with his garish T-shirts, worn-out low-slung jeans and Technicolor training shoes proves an unlikely ally in need, with shared visits to his aged mother and regular lunch dates in a local café. This ordinary, kindly decent man is no romantic hero but the just the kind of supportive friend Eleanor really needs. Despite his shortcomings in personal hygiene, smoking and sub-literate use of text speak in communication, the growing platonic bonds between him and fastidious, orderly Eleanor are both amusing and touching.

“Whenever I'd been sad or upset before, the relevant people in my life would simply call my social worker and I'd be moved somewhere else. Raymond hadn't phoned anyone or asked an outside agency to intervene. He'd elected to look after me himself. I'd been pondering this, and concluded that there must be some people for whom difficult behavior wasn't a reason to end their relationship with you ... This was something of a revelation.”

45-year old Gail Honeyman’s background as a former civil servant and university administrator comes through strongly in this novel’s acute observations about life in the workplace. Her characters aren’t just stock villains, heroes or plot devices but appear to be real people living ordinary, normal lives. 

If there is a recurrent theme in Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, it is the power of small acts of kindness, often denoted by offerings of food; a kindly waiter who serves complimentary truffles with a cup of coffee, a tin of gourmet cat food for the black cat Glen that Eleanor adopts. As Honeyman observed in an interview with the Guardian – “…kindness doesn’t need to be some massive philanthropic Bill Gates-style donation. Tiny acts for the right person at the right time can be transformative.”

It is hard to believe that Eleanor Oliphant is a debut novel, so assured is the writing. Winner of the Costa Book Award, this novel was the subject of a fierce 8-way auction by UK publishers and caused a sensation at the Frankfurt Book Fair. Sold in 30 countries, the rights have already been optioned by Hollywood. Let’s hope they don’t make a right mess of the adaptation, like they did with Ann Tyler's similarly excellent The Accidental Tourist. But author Honeyman is already at work on her next book, set in a different time and place…


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