Eleanor & Park

Considering my own personal Midwestern experience with riding on a bus full of belligerent kids from the undesirable part of town (which actually took place in the late 80's-mid-90's) I started out with a solid connection to the more cringe-worthy elements of this story. Heck, I was having flashbacks! (That may have skewed some of my objectivity in the onset, so I just wanted to be upfront about it.)

The book starts out with 16-year-old Eleanor tentatively moving back in with her weak-willed co-dependent mother, her many younger siblings, and her drunkard stepfather after a year of being pawned off on a family friend. Plus-sized, redheaded, and nearly destitute in her wardrobe options, her first day at a new school—and first time on a new bus—goes about as well as one would expect. Her one bit of a social break comes when Park notices her plight, takes a sort of irritated pity, and assists by rudely ordering her to sit next to him. From that point on Eleanor both benefits and suffers under Park's unwitting social umbrella.

Initially, the two don't speak to each other at all. This oddly believable awkwardness goes on so long, Park doesn't seem to know how to break it once he begins to take a vague interest in the girl.

They are both outsiders, in a sense. Park is a music and comic book absorbed loner, who's half-Korean heritage and largely functional family set him apart from all the other kids in their neighborhood. And when he catches Eleanor reading his comics along with him on the bus ride, he immediately starts sending her home with them. This naturally progresses to him sharing his music with her, and this new found comradeship steadily transitions into hand-holding...rapidly intensifying from there into mutual attraction and deepening connectivity. (I've noted some reviewers balk at the speed of their relational development, but given Eleanor's unhealthy home life and Park's insecurities over his self-identity, this reader personally found their relationship rang with hormonal teen authenticity.)

Eleanor & Park is more than just a dated, star-crossed teen lovers premise with a lot of heavy 80's pop-culture references. It's a story that revolves around the timeless politics of fickle high school social-strata, juxtaposed to home-life drama—some of it petty and some of it desperately serious in nature. It takes a thoughtful-yet-impactful look at judging and misjudging others—be they friends, acquaintances, or family. There's also a poignant look at the perspective variances that can result from differences in class. But it's ultimately in the handling of Eleanor's horrendous domestic situation that this reader found the most enduring value.

The Pros:

The prose has a steady, organic flow, with peripheral characters gradually coming into clearer relational focus as the plot progresses. The emotional conveyances are frequently visceral, and the layers of conflict subtly unwrapped—which is likely to keep readers engaged. The main characters are both flawed and endearing in their own unique ways. And the ending, while somewhat flexibly unresolved, could still be considered satisfying.

The Cons:

I made the mistake of listening to the audiobook. I DO NOT recommend this. While the male narrator did a fine job of voicing Park, his attempts at Eleanor's lines were mind-wrenchingly distracting. But beyond that, this YA book has more frequent use of the F-word than I recall finding in even the grittiest thriller or sci-fi novels I've ever encountered. Yes, it was that excessive—and hearing it over and over poses a problem for audio learners like me (i.e. if I hear it, I tend to have trouble not spitting it back out at inopportune times.) Never mind the fact that I was listening to this in the car and I quickly discovered I couldn't play it with my kids in any kind of earshot—headphones on or no. Could the author have handled that differently? That's not for me to say. To her credit, the language was largely used to both demonstrate teenage immaturity and help reinforce identification of the more villainous characters. I simply regret that it makes me hesitate to recommend the book to the teens it might actually help. (Also, I worry it may inadvertently cause a sort of exclusivity—as not all kids facing abusive situations are accustomed to and/or enthralled with this much vulgarity.)

Language choices aside, I also would have liked to see more growth in the relationship between Park and his father--which I felt like we were being set up for but sort of fell along the wayside.

What I Loved:

There's so much to love about this book. The world building is superb--as a girl who grew up in the 80's, I recognized myself and my music. Every detail, from the clothing to the hair styles to the sensory descriptions of the setting, painted a vivid picture so that each scene played out like a movie in my mind.

The characters are fully realized, complex, flawed, and interesting. Readers will connect with both Eleanor and Park and will cheer for them to find a happily ever after even when it seems impossible. Eleanor's home life and the trauma in her past make her feel like the more complex character at first, but Park has layers of his own, and Ms. Rowell does an excellent job of created two very realistic and accessible characters who have equal stakes in the story's outcome. The story is told from both perspectives, and this technique worked well for these characters.

The relationships in this book make it stand out because every single relationship is nuanced and complicated in some way, and that rings true for real life as well. There's no insta-love between Eleanor and Park. They begin the story disliking each other and slowly move toward understanding, appreciation, and eventually, love. Their romance requires them to stand up to peer pressure and to make hard choices when it comes to the risks they're willing to take. The angst, the swoony first-love emotions, the arguments, and the all-consuming focus are absolutely authentic for a first real love relationship, and readers will delight in the story of Eleanor and Park.

What Left Me Wanting More:

I would've liked an epilogue or a tiny bit more information at the ending (I can't say why without spoiling it for new readers), but at the same time, I understood the choices the author made, and those choices felt natural for her characters.

Final Verdict:

Eleanor and Park is a compelling story that is as much about courage and our capacity to heal as it is about the consuming highs and lows of first love.

What I Loved:
Eleanor & Park sets itself apart from they typical young adult read on just about every level: the setting, the main characters, the touching plot. These elements combine to make a read that moves the reader and warms the heart. Whatever expectations I had going into Eleanor & Park were simply blown away, and it will no doubt be on the list of my favorite reads of 2013.

Set in the 1980s, Eleanor & Park is the story of two misfit teens in Omaha. Many YA novels purport to be about teenagers who simply do not fit in, and, truly, almost every teen feels that way inside. However, Eleanor, and to a lesser degree Park, really do stand out from the rest of the teens at their high school. Park is Asian, the only Asian kid in school, except for his brother who takes after their white father in appearance. Eleanor, well, she doesn't dress normal or look normal or act normal.

Eleanor & Park opens on Eleanor's first day at school, having been away from her family for a year. She gets on the bus that first morning and everyone eyes her thrift store men's clothing over her chubby frame. They immediately recognize her as a target of mockery, dubbing her "raghead" and "Big Red." As she searches for a seat, every available space is suddenly filled with a backpack or saved for someone. Finally, Park, just to make it stop, allows her to sit with him, regretting his kindness even as he does so, fearing that he'll earn the attention of the popular, bullying kids. I love that their first encounter is so awful, and how unflattering Park's first thoughts are. So much of high school is about avoiding embarrassment, and the awkward new girl is just that. This portrayal is so honest.

Of course, as time goes by, Eleanor and Park slowly bond, not even speaking at first. He reads comics everyday on the bus, and he begins to notice her reading along. He starts flipping pages more slowly, giving her time to read the whole thing. Then he starts loaning them to her over night. From there, they enter into conversations, whispered quietly on the bus. Their thoughts on the X-Men (feminist or not?), Batman (boring or cool?), the pirate storyline in Watchmen (to be skipped or crucial to the comic?) shift gradually into conversations on music. Park brings new life into Eleanor's drab existence with the best of 1980s pop culture.

Eleanor and her four siblings live with her mother and their drunken, abusive step-father, Richie. Her home life has no charms. The kids wear odd clothing grabbed by their mother with any extra money. They fight over toys, like boxes that fruit come in, because that's the best they ever really hope to get. All five sleep in a single room, often hiding in there from the shouts of Richie. Eleanor, especially, knows how terrible Richie can be, and she never ever feels safe.

Park becomes Eleanor's safe haven. Their relationship unfolds slowly, growing at a steady pace into a strong burn. I loved watching them learn to know one another's insecurities, and to accept them. This acceptance doesn't make the insecurities disappear entirely, but it does help. Neither Eleanor nor Park ever felt right in their own skins, and their burgeoning love comes as close to making them feel whole as anything could. I don't usually believe to much in young love, but I really hope these two crazy kids can make it, despite or because of all of the real world difficulties they have to face. Rowell doesn't overly romanticize their relationship, but she also doesn't attempt to diminish their feelings.

What Left Me Wanting More:
I can't think of a single thing I want to be different.

The Final Verdict:
Eleanor & Park is, without a doubt, one of the best books of 2013, though much of it remains. Rowell has written an incredibly moving story about first love, and about the importance of having a support network, even if it's not your family. This book is brilliant, and I will most certainly be reading any more Rowell novels I can get my hands on.