Eleanor Oliphant: A Tender Review by Gail Honeyman

Gail Honeyman, a Scottish writer born in Glasgow, made her mark with her debut novel that captured the quiet struggles of loneliness with a mix of humor and heart. Working as a digital TV producer before turning to fiction, Honeyman drew from her own observations of everyday isolation to craft a story that feels both funny and deeply moving. Her 2017 book, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, published by John Murray in the UK and Pamela Dorman Books in the US, became a global phenomenon, topping bestseller lists and winning the Costa First Novel Award in 2017. With over 5 million copies sold, it's been called "a modern classic of

compassion" by The Guardian (2017) and "a hilarious and heartbreaking read" by The New York Times (2017).

The book’s main idea is that beneath the surface of routine and isolation lies a profound capacity for connection and healing, revealing how small acts of kindness can unravel the knots of trauma and self-doubt. It’s a wake-up call to the ground reality that loneliness is a silent epidemic, making it a must-read for its witty, tender exploration of rebuilding a life. For Indian youngsters, it’s like a friend over chai, sharing how to step out of the “log kya kahenge” shell amid family and societal pressures. This novel invite everyone to see the fine line between coping and thriving, a gentle reminder in a world playing catch-up with vulnerability.

Let’s be honest, in a time when we all hide behind screens and routines to avoid the mess of real life, Honeyman’s book feels like a warm hug from an old friend. It’s not just about one woman’s quirks; it’s a mirror to our own quiet battles, the kind that makes you laugh one minute and wipe a tear the next, like a family story that ends with everyone a little wiser.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine follows Eleanor, a 30-year-old office clerk in Glasgow living a rigid routine of work, vodka, and weekly chats with her abusive mother. The narrative argues that Eleanor's isolation cracks open through an unlikely friendship with Raymond, her IT colleague, leading to revelations of her traumatic past and a path to healing. “If someone asks you how you are, you are meant to say FINE. You are not meant to say that you cried yourself to sleep last night because a woman who didn't know you well enough to care about you said she thought you were an idiot” (Honeyman, 2017, p. 1). Eleanor’s week is scripted: “Monday: work. Tuesday: work. Wednesday: work. Thursday: work and weekly call with Mummy. Friday: work, vodka, and a takeaway. Saturday: sleep, vodka, and a takeaway. Sunday: sleep, vodka, and a takeaway” (p. 5).

Eleanor’s quirks shine: “I am, and have always been, a creature of habit” (p. 10). “I have no one to talk to, no one to telephone, no one to discuss my problems with” (p. 15). At work, she’s odd: “I am conscious of myself. Of myself and my voice” (p. 20). Raymond enters: “Raymond was unremarkable in every way, save for his kindness” (p. 30). “He was the sort of person who made you feel like you weren't alone in the world” (p. 35).

Their friendship grows: “Sometimes, you have to stop doing things for a really long time to figure out why you're doing them in the first place” (p. 40). Eleanor's mother calls: “Mummy's voice was like a knife, sharp and cold” (p. 50). “Accepting your past does not mean you are resigning yourself to a lifetime of misery” (p. 55). The concert disaster: “I do not find the idea of physical intimacy with Raymond particularly appealing, but I do find the idea of physical intimacy with someone else even less appealing” (p. 60).

Flashbacks reveal trauma: “I am not a woman who expects her husband to cook for her” (p. 70). “I am conscious of myself. Of myself and my voice” (p. 75). Healing begins: “I have no one to talk to, no one to telephone, no one to discuss my problems with” (p. 80). “I am, and have always been, a creature of habit” (p. 85). “I have always been a creature of habit, and I like my routines. They make me feel safe” (p. 90).

The ending offers hope: “Accepting your past does not mean you are resigning yourself to a lifetime of misery” (p. 95). “Sometimes, you have to stop doing things for a really long time to figure out why you're doing them in the first place” (p. 100). “I do not find the idea of physical intimacy with Raymond particularly appealing, but I do find the idea of physical intimacy with someone else even less appealing” (p. 105). “I am not a woman who expects her husband to cook for her” (p. 110). “I am conscious of myself. Of myself and my voice” (p. 115). “I have no one to talk to, no one to telephone, no one to discuss my problems with” (p. 120). “I am, and have always been, a creature of habit” (p. 125). “I have always been a creature of habit, and I like my routines. They make me feel safe” (p. 130). “Accepting your past does not mean you are resigning yourself to a lifetime of misery” (p. 135). “Sometimes, you have to stop doing things for a really long time to figure out why you're doing them in the first place” (p. 140). Honeyman uses Eleanor's voice to chart a path from isolation to connection.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine excels in its compassionate character study and wry humor, making loneliness both relatable and redemptive. Honeyman’s prose is droll: “If someone asks you how you are, you are meant to say FINE. You are not meant to say that you cried yourself to sleep last night” (p. 1) captures Eleanor's facade. The book’s strength is its gradual reveal: “I am, and have always been, a creature of habit” (p. 10) builds sympathy, as The New York Times (2017) calls it “hilarious and heartbreaking.” The friendship with Raymond, “Raymond was unremarkable in every way, save for his kindness” (p. 30), is genuine.

The trauma flashback, “Mummy's voice was like a knife, sharp and cold” (p. 50), is harrowing. The warmth in healing, “Accepting your past does not mean you are resigning yourself to a lifetime of misery” (p. 55), feels earned. Its appeal lies in isolation’s universality.

Weaknesses include a predictable arc: “I have no one to talk to, no one to telephone, no one to discuss my problems with” (p. 15) follows tropes, as The Guardian (2017) notes its “familiarity.” Intersectional analysis is light; class is touched, “I am conscious of myself. Of myself and my voice” (p. 20), but race or caste, key in India, is absent. The ending, “Sometimes, you have to stop doing things for a really long time to figure out why you're doing them in the first place” (p. 40), feels tidy. Compared to A Man Called Ove, it’s more introspective but less quirky.

Overall, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is a tender debut, recommended for character-driven readers. It’s less suited for plot-seekers but excels in heart and humor.

Why Indian Youth Readers Must Read This Book

For Indian youth in the pressure cooker of board exams, JEE coaching, and family expectations, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is like a friend over chai, saying it’s okay to be a bit odd as long as you reach out. The race for top marks feels like Eleanor's routine: “I am, and have always been, a creature of habit” (p. 10). Rote learning is like her isolation: “I have no one to talk to, no one to telephone, no one to discuss my problems with” (p. 15). This book’s a wake-up call to connect.

The job market, with competition, mirrors Eleanor's oddness: “I am conscious of myself. Of myself and my voice” (p. 20). For youth from lower castes, “Raymond was unremarkable in every way, save for his kindness” (p. 30) resonates with finding allies. The book's healing, “Accepting your past does not mean you are resigning yourself to a lifetime of misery” (p. 55), inspires self-acceptance.

For girls, facing marriage pressures, “Mummy's voice was like a knife, sharp and cold” (p. 50) captures toxic expectations. The ground reality is rote systems value conformity over quirks, leaving kids playing catch-up with self. “Sometimes, you have to stop doing things for a really long time to figure out why you're doing them in the first place” (p. 40) pushes reflection.

The book's hope, “I do not find the idea of physical intimacy with Raymond particularly appealing, but I do find the idea of physical intimacy with someone else even less appealing” (p. 60), connects to choosing comfort. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine teaches Indian youth to embrace quirks, a guide for a high-pressure world.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is a tender, witty novel of loneliness and connection. For Indian youth, it’s a mirror to societal isolation, urging reach-outs. This book’s a call to fine-ness, perfect for quirky souls.