Tag: rainbow rowell

Bono met his wife in high school, Park says. 

So did Jerry Lee Lewis, Eleanor answers. 

I’m not kidding, he says. 

You should be, she says, we’re 16. 

What about Romeo and Juliet? 

Shallow, confused, then dead. 

I love you, Park says. 

Wherefore art thou, Eleanor answers. 

I’m not kidding, he says. 

You should be.

My thoughts: The story is so cheesy. I know: it’s got two misfits falling in love over a bunch of 80’s songs, which they can’t help quoting from every three seconds. There’s a lot of gooey dialogue that made me roll my eyes for being just so… teen. Of course, my teenage years were some of the most ridiculous times of my life, where I did and said the craziest things and had high school smack me in the face a lot, so there were times when I felt the characters in the book just needed to grow up, already. All their immaturities and insecurities are frustrating and maudlin. But then that’s the point, Eleanor & Park captures exactly what it is to be a teenager. Illogical and overloaded on touchy-feelies; even the smart kid sometimes thinks the stupidest things, the usually no-nonsense girl acts all silly around the boy she likes, even the biggest bully can abruptly turn nice. Anyone who asks for explanations has forgotten what it’s like to be sixteen. 

Eleanor’s real problems – her creepy step-dad, her abused careless mother, her must-wear-mens’-clothes poverty – and Park’s troubles with his dad, who finds him too girly, are frequently taken somewhat casually. But it was this subtlety that I actually liked, the writer has this almost lighthearted way of dealing with and writing about big issues. I mean all the concerns stared me right in face. But I felt like Eleanor was doing the best she could when she sneaked out to meet Park in the middle of the night risking so much, because if it’s ever justified to do something shallow, it’s when you’re a smitten sixteen-year old. I didn’t expect Park to understand Eleanor’s broken family or realize the extent of her troubles, because to him family meant something simpler; he had parents who were completely in love with other. Making rash decisions, not giving every action a thought is what kept them innocent teenagers, and Rowell lets them live in their little bubble, if only for a while. This makes their breakthrough moments even sweeter. A well written book manages to be dead serious without monologues of philosophizing. I think Rowell pulls it off.

The sentences are crisp, the dialogue snippy and the narration flits between Park and Eleanor. There are times when the point of view changes thrice on the same page, which is distracting and a little lazy, not much effort goes into seamlessly moving from scene to scene. Rowell does have an eye for detail and is a good describer, but she is awfully repetitive. (Red hair, red hair, freckles, big, Eleanor = not conventionally pretty.) It’s a YA novel and probably couldn’t resist its few typical gimmicks. Basically, I suppose it’s no great work of literature (although, what is?, really) but it’s a charming book. Worth a shot, at least.

A couple of favourite quotes (descriptions) that aren’t snappy chit chat:

When Eleanor was a little girl, she’d thought her mom looked like a queen, like the star of some fairy tale. Not a princess – princesses are just pretty. Eleanor’s mother was beautiful. She was tall and stately, with broad shoulders and an elegant waist. All of her bones seemed more purposeful than other people’s. Like they weren’t just there to hold her up, they were there to make a point.

Eleanor looked a lot like her. But not enough.

Eleanor looked like her mother through a fish tank. Rounder and softer. Slurred. Where her mother was statuesque, Eleanor was heavy. Where her mother was finely drawn, Eleanor was smudged.

(Eleanor, on herself)

But Park didn’t have any luck – or status – to spare on that dumb redhead. He had just enough to keep himself out of trouble. And he knew it was crappy, but he was kind of grateful that people like that girl existed. Because people like Steve and Mikey and Tina existed, too, and they needed to be fed. If it wasn’t that redhead, it was going to be somebody else. And if it wasn’t somebody else, it was going to be Park.


(Park, initially, on being nice to Eleanor)

P.S. Here’s a link to John Green’s review of Eleanor & Park. Interesting, huh? Do you read any author reviews of books? I only trust recommendations that I find on Neil Gaiman’s blog.