I loved this book by Gail Honeyman, I even read it twice. Haven’t done that since Harry Potter. Eleanor is completely fine, or thinks she is, as long as she sticks to her daily routine which is carefully mapped out to include, among other things, very limited social interactions and vodka binges to keep her memory at bay, helping her deal with the difficult relationship with Mummy. Ah Mummy, the root of all evil…what a narcissistic bitch (the best I can come up). Then along comes goofy Raymond who drags the socially awkward Eleanor into the world of social interaction. Add friendship and a celebrity obsession into the mix with Mummy, and Eleanor finds out she is definitely not fine.
“Fine”. Isn’t that what you automatically spew forth when someone asks the question, “How are you?” or “How ya doin?”? But how often is it actually true and why is that the first thing we say? Because we don’t want to burden this person with what is really going on? Because talking about it will make it real? Because you don’t really like this person, so why would you tell them your troubles? Because if you really tell how you are, you don’t think they will like you anymore? Because you know it’s just a courtesy question and they don’t really care? Because retelling only brings forth fresh pain? So many different reasons for so many different situations, and I think I’ve used them all.
Of course we all know those people that don’t say “fine”, but enlighten us with the most minute details of everything from their last GYN (or prostate) exam to their kids obsession with boogers. And they tell it to everyone and anyone who stands still long enough to listen. I am not one of these people. I fall firmly in the field of the automatic “fine” on most occasions, because for some reason I am happy to listen to other peoples troubles and help if I can, but always feel like a downer when I voice my own. I also am one of those people who generally just let things go. I don’t clutch my trouble tight to my chest waiting for the right moment to release upon the masses. I deal and let it go, or talk it out and let it go, unlike Eleanor.
Eleanor is a spewer of “fine”, because if she doesn’t tell everyone she’s fine, she will have to face some very difficult things from her past that are sooo definitely not fine. When she does deal, it is earth shattering for her, and I didn’t see it coming…not the bit with Mummy. The ending of this story is like life. No contrived romance or miracle cure to tie the loose ends into a tidy little bow. Eleanor’s life is still not perfect, but I came away with the impression that she really will be just fine.