This has been described as the perfect balance between happy and sad. I don't, as a rule, read sad books and I rarely read happy-sad books. So I was happy to find while reading Eleanor Oliphant that I was completely fine. It's a brilliantly written book that supports you with humor and humanity while unfolding a difficult tale. [That may be all you want to know about it going in. If so, stop reading here.] You can tell right away, of course, that Eleanor is not completely fine. She's under-socialized, at the very least, and navigating a world that she is disconnected from. Her experiences and wry observations are often funny; her situation is sometimes heartbreakingly sad. She's in the process of acknowledging and healing from trauma, but the author doesn't try to wring sobs out of it. It's a gentler book than that, telegraphing what's to come, trying to ensure that Eleanor and the reader are ready for it. If it had been played for laughs and sobs, I would've taken a pass — and missed out on a truly skillful portrayal of healing, growth, connection, and the kindness of strangers and near strangers. Content note: Childhood trauma, emotional abuse, flashbacks, alcoholism, smoking. ⁣
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