Wednesday, February 17, 2010

[I435.Ebook] Download Ebook Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine: A Novel, by Gail Honeyman

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Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine: A Novel, by Gail Honeyman

Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine: A Novel, by Gail Honeyman



Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine: A Novel, by Gail Honeyman

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Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine: A Novel, by Gail Honeyman

Soon to be a major motion picture produced by Reese Witherspoon.


“Eleanor Oliphant may be completely fine, but this book is completely wonderful." --PureWow

"Eleanor Oliphant is a truly original literary creation: funny, touching, and unpredictable." --Jojo Moyes, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Me Before You

No one’s ever told Eleanor that life should be better than fine. 

Meet Eleanor Oliphant: She struggles with appropriate social skills and tends to say exactly what she’s thinking. Nothing is missing in her carefully timetabled life of avoiding social interactions, where weekends are punctuated by frozen pizza, vodka, and phone chats with Mummy. 

But everything changes when Eleanor meets Raymond, the bumbling and deeply unhygienic IT guy from her office. When she and Raymond together save Sammy, an elderly gentleman who has fallen on the sidewalk, the three become the kinds of friends who rescue one another from the lives of isolation they have each been living. And it is Raymond’s big heart that will ultimately help Eleanor find the way to repair her own profoundly damaged one.

Smart, warm, uplifting, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is the story of an out-of-the-ordinary heroine whose deadpan weirdness and unconscious wit make for an irresistible journey as she realizes. . .
 
The only way to survive is to open your heart. 

  • Sales Rank: #1079 in Books
  • Published on: 2017-05-09
  • Released on: 2017-05-09
  • Original language: English
  • Dimensions: 9.44" h x 1.10" w x 6.44" l,
  • Binding: Hardcover
  • 336 pages

Review
“Move over, Ove (in Fredrik Backman’s A Man Called Ove)—there’s a new curmudgeon to love. . . Walking in Eleanor’s practical black Velcro shoes is delightfully amusing, her prudish observations leavened with a privately puckish humor. But readers will also be drawn in by her tragic backstory, which slowly reveals how she came to be so entirely Eleanor. Witty, charming, and heartwarming, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine is a remarkable debut about a singular woman. Readers will cheer Eleanor as she confronts her dark past and turns to a brighter future. Feel good without feeling smarmy.” –Booklist (starred review)

“Eleanor Oliphant is endearing, [a] whip-smart read. . .  Perfectly paced, odd, shocking and hilarious, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is a fascinating story about loneliness, hope, tragedy and humanity. Honeyman’s delivery is wickedly good, and Eleanor won’t leave you anytime soon." --Associated Press

"Simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking. . . Eleanor Oliphant may be completely fine, but this book is completely wonderful." --PureWow

"Honeyman’s endearing debut is part comic novel, part emotional thriller, and part love story. . . hilarious, deadpan, and irresistible." --Kirkus Reviews

“[A] captivating debut. . . a feel-good story that will make readers laugh and cheer for Eleanor as she learns that the past doesn’t dictate the future, and that happiness can be hers. This is a must-read for those who love characters with quirks.” --BookPage

“If you thought Fredrik Backman’s Ove was a charming curmudgeon, you’ll instantly fall for Eleanor.” --Hello Giggles

"Debut author Honeyman expertly captures a woman whose inner pain is excruciating and whose face and heart are scarred, but who still holds the capacity to love and be loved. Eleanor’s story will move readers." --Publishers Weekly

"Eleanor Oliphant is a truly original literary creation: funny, touching, and unpredictable. Her journey out of dark shadows is expertly woven and absolutely gripping." --Jojo Moyes, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Me Before You

"Like a contemporary Jane Eyre, Gail Honeyman's Eleanor Oliphant is a woman scarred by profound loneliness, and the shadow of a harrowing childhood she can't even bear to remember. Bit by bit, and with extraordinary courage, however, Eleanor begins peeling the layers of protective numbness, letting others near for the first time, and reaching for the life she hasn't believed she deserves. Deft, compassionate and deeply moving--Honeyman's debut will have you rooting for Eleanor with every turning page. I loved this story." --Paula McClain, New York Times bestselling author of The Paris Wife and Circling the Sun

"So powerful--I completely loved Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine." --Fiona Barton, New York Times bestselling author of The Widow

"Moving, hilarious, and intriguing, just like its unique, anti-social, anti-heroine. You will fall in love with Eleanor Oliphant." --J. Ryan Stradal, New York Times bestselling author of Kitchens of the Great Midwest

"Honeyman's debut is a stunner, as buoyant and charming as it is heartwrenching and emotionally sophisticated. Poor Eleanor Oliphant--often clueless, at times maddening, but always fascinating--walks right off the page and into the reader's heart. Not only is Eleanor Oliphant completely fine, she's a revelation." --Jonathan Evison, author of This Is Your Life, Harriet Chance

“Eleanor Oliphant endears herself to the reader with her cantankerous charm and her disarmingly inscrutable voice. A compulsive, irresistible narrative that arcs toward compassion and light.” –Mona Awad, author of 13 Ways of Looking at a Fat Girl

“Heart-wrenching and wonderful!” –Nina Stibbe, bestselling author of Paradise Lodge

About the Author
Gail Honeyman is a graduate of the universities of Glasgow and Oxford. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine was short-listed for the Lucy Cavendish Fiction Prize as a work in progress and is Honeyman’s debut novel. She lives in Glasgow, Scotland.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof***

Copyright © 2017 Gail Honeyman

When people ask me what I do—taxi drivers, hairdressers—I tell them I work in an office. In almost eight years, no one’s ever asked what kind of office, or what sort of job I do there. I can’t decide whether that’s because I fit perfectly with their idea of what an office worker looks like, or whether people hear the phrase work in an office and automatically fill in the blanks themselves—lady doing photocopying, man tapping at a keyboard. I’m not complaining. I’m delighted that I don’t have to get into the fascinating intricacies of accounts receivable with them. When I first started working here, whenever anyone asked, I told them that I worked for a graphic design company, but then they assumed I was a creative type. It became a bit boring to see their faces blank over when I explained that it was back office stuff, that I didn’t get to use the fine‑tipped pens and the fancy software.

I’m nearly thirty years old now and I’ve been working here since I was twenty‑one. Bob, the owner, took me on not long after the office opened. I suppose he felt sorry for me. I had a degree in Classics and no work experience to speak of, and I turned up for the interview with a black eye, a couple of missing teeth and a broken arm. Maybe he sensed, back then, that I would never aspire to anything more than a poorly paid office job, that I would be content to stay with the company and save him the bother of ever having to recruit a replacement. Perhaps he could also tell that I’d never need to take time off to go on honeymoon, or request maternity leave. I don’t know.

It's definitely a two-tier system in the office; the creatives are the film stars, the rest of us merely supporting artists. You can tell by looking at us which category we fall into. To be fair, part of that is salary­ elated. The back office staff get paid a pittance, and so we can't af­ford much in the way of sharp haircuts and nerdy glasses. Clothes, music, gadgets-although the designers are desperate to be seen as freethinkers with unique ideas, they all adhere to a strict uniform.

Graphic design is of no interest to me. I'm a finance clerk. I could be issuing invoices for anything, really; armaments, Rohypnol, co­conuts.

From Monday to Friday, I come in at 8.30. I take an hour for lunch. I used to bring in my own sandwiches, but the food at home always went off before I could use it up, so now I get something from the high street. I always finish with a trip to Marks & Spencer on a Friday, which rounds off the week nicely. I sit in the staffroom with my sandwich and I read the newspaper from cover to cover, and then do the crosswords. I take the Daily Telegraph, not because I like it particularly, but because it has the best cryptic crossword. I don't talk to anyone–by the time I've bought my meal deal, read the paper and finished both crosswords, the hour is almost up. I go back to my desk and work till 5.30. The bus home takes half an hour.

I make supper and eat it while I listen to the Archers. I usually have pasta with pesto and salad–one pan and one plate. My childhood was full of culinary contradiction, and I've dined on both hand-dived scallops and boil-in-the-bag cod over the years. After much reflection on the political and sociological aspects of the table, I have realized that I am completely uninterested in food. My preference is for fodder hat is cheap, quick and simple to procure and prepare, whilst provid­ing the requisite nutrients to enable a person to stay alive.

After I've washed up, I read a book, or sometimes I watch televi­sion if there's a program the Telegraph has recommended that day. I usually (well, always) talk to Mummy on a Wednesday evening for ten minutes or so. I go to bed around ten, read for half an hour and then put the light out. I don’t have trouble sleeping, as a rule.

On Fridays, I don’t get the bus straight after work but instead I go to the Tesco Metro around the corner from the office and buy a margherita pizza, some Chianti and two big bottles of Glen’s vodka. When I get home, I eat the pizza and drink the wine. I have some vodka afterward. I don’t need much on a Friday, just a few big swigs. I usually wake up on the sofa around 3 a.m., and I stumble off to bed. I drink the rest of the vodka over the weekend, spread it throughout both days so that I’m neither drunk nor sober. Monday takes a long time to come around.

My phone doesn’t ring often—it makes me jump when it does—and it’s usually people asking if I’ve been mis‑sold Payment Protection Insurance. I whisper I know where you live to them, and hang up the phone very, very gently. No one’s been in my flat this year apart from service professionals; I’ve not voluntarily invited another human being across the threshold, except to read the meter. You’d think that would be impossible, wouldn’t you? It’s true, though. I do exist, don’t I? It often feels as if I’m not here, that I’m a figment of my own imagination. There are days when I feel so lightly connected to the earth that the threads that tether me to the planet are gossamer thin, spun sugar. A strong gust of wind could dislodge me completely, and I’d lift off and blow away, like one of those seeds in a dandelion clock.

The threads tighten slightly from Monday to Friday. People phone the office to discuss credit lines, send me emails about contracts and estimates. The employees I share an office with—Janey, Loretta, Bernadette and Billy—would notice if I didn’t turn up. After a few days (I’ve often wondered how many) they would worry that I hadn’t phoned in sick—so unlike me—and they’d dig out my address from the personnel files. I suppose they’d call the police in the end, wouldn’t they? Would the officers break down the front door? Find me, covering their faces, gagging at the smell? That would give them something to talk about in the office. They hate me, but they don't actually wish me dead. I don't think so, anyway.

 

I went to the doctor yesterday. It feels like eons ago. I got the young doctor this time, the pale chap with the red hair, which I was pleased about. The younger they are, the more recent their training, and that can only be a good thing. I hate it when I get old Dr. Wilson; she's about sixty, and I can't imagine she knows much about the latest drugs and medical breakthroughs. She can barely work the computer.

The doctor was doing that thing where they talk to you but don't look at you, reading my notes on the screen, hitting the return key with increasing ferocity as he scrolled down.

"What can I do for you this time, Miss Oliphant?"

"It's back pain, Doctor," I told him. "I've been in agony." He still didn't look at me.

"How long have you been experiencing this?" he said.

"A couple of weeks," I told him.

He nodded.

"I think I know what's causing it," I said, "but I wanted to get your opinion."

He stopped reading, finally looked across at me.

"What is it that you think is causing your back pain, Miss Oliphant?"

"I think it's my breasts, Doctor," I told him.

"Your breasts?"

"Yes," I said. "You see, I've weighed them, and they're almost half a stone-combined weight, that is, not each!" I laughed. He stared at me, not laughing. "That's a lot of weight to carry around, isn't it?" I asked him. "I mean, if I were to strap half a stone of additional flesh to your chest and force you to walk around all day like that, your back would hurt too, wouldn't it?"

He stared at me, then cleared his throat.

Most helpful customer reviews

3 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Completely Fine
By Joymle
I loved Eleanor! She really knows how to turn a phrase thanks to Gail Honeyman.
I laughed out loud several times at her observations of the world around her.
Although really enjoying the character herself, the story fell a little flat at the end, but overall worth the read.

14 of 14 people found the following review helpful.
Well worth the read!
By Cindy B. (ThoughtsFromAPage)
4.5 stars

I loved this book and highly recommend it. While Eleanor’s character is reminiscent of Ove from A Man Called Ove, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine contains much grimmer undertones which I had not expected. When the book opens, Eleanor is a loner who goes to work and comes homes and rarely interacts with humans outside rare conversations with her office mates. Brought up in the foster care system after a tragic accident when she was ten, Eleanor has never had anyone look out for her or seek out her company. When a new IT employee crosses paths with her, Eleanor begins to learn what it is like to make a friend and be a friend to others.

The book begins a little slowly so do not put it down if you are not drawn in immediately. Eleanor will completely grow on you, and you will not want the book to end. However, while I was sad for the book to end, the ending was spectacular.

I very much enjoyed this book and loved its message that the kindness of one person can completely change another person’s life. This is a motto to live by. Thanks to NetGalley and Pamela Dorman Books for the chance to read this fabulous ARC in exchange for an honest review.

7 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
A resonating must read!
By McReader
ELEANOR OLIPHANT IS COMPLETELY FINE by Gail Honeyman was a resonating read. I loved this book more than any I've read in a long time because the main character was so unique. The main character is deeply developed and her inner and outer voice were so jarring. The storyline propelled you forward. There is so much honesty, so much detail, and so much emotion in this book. And there is the back story of how Eleanor got burned that is sprinkled through the story with an ending I did not see coming. It's impossible for this social butterfly and parent to imagine a life lived without any other people in it. Her first real friendship with Raymond, the smelly IT guy, is also really well written. I appreciated every character in this book, every opportunity to wonder if would act or think the same way as them, and felt connected to the lead character in a way I haven't before. It reminded me a lot of Frederik Bachman. I highly recommend checking this book out!

I received an ARC of this novel from First to Read.

See all 14 customer reviews...

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