Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman is a book that I read in high school, and the memory of it still follows me around to this day. It doesn’t linger all the time but rather lurks in the pockets of time I wish I didn’t have. When a joke or comment falls flat or when I feel deeply uncomfortable in a room full of people. It is the kind of story you think of when you are reaching out for a human connection you can never quite grasp. Eleanor Oliphant is a mentally ill and autistic woman who is deeply and profoundly lonely, yet she spends all her spare time avoiding social interaction at all costs. It was a story I found myself relating to at 16 and still compare myself to now at 19.
The reason I want to recommend this book is a little varied. Partly, it is genuinely a good read. It hits a sweet spot that is neither too easy nor too difficult to follow, with an engaging plot with threads of mystery and romance intertwining it all together, leading into a glorious and tear-jerking conclusion that I absolutely can not spoil. When I read Eleanor Oliphant for the first time, I felt seen and in a female character to boot. Most depictions of high-functioning autism in all forms of media are in the lone male genius archetype. However, some of us are not lone wolf geniuses who don’t need anyone, who subsist entirely on their work and a pot of stale black coffee. I’d say most of us are, like Eleanor, lonely and objectively a little strange and have no idea what to do about that. And some of us, heaven forbid, are women. But we are all completely fine.
Eleanor Oliphant, to me, raises the question of what we consider to be our version of fine. She believes that her existence is balanced and perfect for herself. She goes to work, speaks to no one, returns home, speaks to no one, spends her off time calling her mother in prison for 10 minutes, and promptly gets drunk alone in her apartment, rinse and repeat. I am sure many people are stuck in their routines and their daily drudgery, and it’s tolerable for us. But does that mean we are fine, or that we should be perfectly fine because it is our normal? Eleanor’s life got better when her routine was disrupted, and she started to try to interact with other people, regardless of the fear and difficulty it caused her. So, I want to close off this recommendation and reflection by asking not only to read the book (or watch the movie version when it is released at some point) but also to disrupt your routine a little. Whether that’s going to an event on campus or grabbing dinner with a friend in Hoboken, the little disruption will be well worth it.
