Rowell, Rainbow. Eleanor
& Park. New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 2013.
Photo by: L. Propes |
Eleanor & Park
begins in August 1986 and follows the tentative beginnings of Eleanor and
Park’s burgeoning friendship that blossoms gradually into love. They “don’t meet cute; they meet vexed”
(“Eleanor & Park” Kirkus). Eleanor
is the new girl in their Omaha school. She’s zaftig, tall, with lots of curly red hair. Her wardrobe choices make her look like she’s
wearing a Halloween costume, and she has nowhere to sit on the bus. Park is the half-Korean, punk and New
Wave-loving, comic-book-reading outsider who grudgingly lets Eleanor sit next
to him on the bus. Park realizes Eleanor
is reading his comic books over his shoulder and the foundations of their
friendship are formed on the wordless bus rides to and from school, bonding over X-Men.
Eventually, Park begins to lend Eleanor his comic books (still without
saying a word), and after weeks of silently trading comics, he breaks the ice
by asking about the song titles Eleanor has written on the covers of her
textbooks. (Just so you know Rowell isn’t
condoning vandalism, Eleanor has made protective covers for her textbooks using
brown paper grocery bags. That’s what
she’s doodled on, not the actual book cover.)
Eleanor and Park couldn’t be more different from one another
on the surface. Eleanor’s parents are
divorced, and she hardly sees her father.
Her mother is married to a man who mentally and physically abuses her
and makes life miserable for Eleanor and her four siblings. In fact, Richie, Eleanor’s stepfather, kicked
Eleanor out of the house for a year, and when the novel begins, has just
“allowed” her to move back in with the family. The family is so poor they can’t
afford things like toothpaste or regular shampoo, and Eleanor shares a room
with her younger sister and three younger brothers. Eleanor’s mother has expressly forbidden her
to date or have contact with boys outside of school. It’s unclear if this is
her mother’s wish, or if it’s something she’s done to appease Richie. Eleanor is also deeply insecure about many
things -- her weight, her appearance, and even her worthiness to be with a
person she feels is as decent as Park.
She hides her insecurities under a cool and collected façade, but every
so often a bullying incident creates a fissure and allows the anxieties to
show. She has a sharp wit and original
insight of literature, even going so far as to challenge the entrenched opinion
of Romeo and Juliet as a tragedy,
viewing it as a satiric look at love (Rowell 44).
Park’s parents are happily married, and are openly
demonstrative with one another in front of Park and his younger brother. Their house is always neat and tidy, and
unlike Eleanor, Park isn’t worried about where his next meal will come
from. His mother is a beautician and
sells Avon. Park thinks that she would be the most popular girl on the school
bus (Rowell 118). Park can have a
difficult relationship with his father, mostly due to their clashing
personalities and differing ideas about what it means to be a man, but it’s
obvious that Park’s father loves and cares about him. Park’s family life, which also includes his
paternal grandparents who live next-door, is stable and solidly
middle-class. Park’s mother doesn’t want
Park to have a girlfriend so he can focus on his studies, but accepts that Park
is seeing Eleanor. Park’s willingness to
push the envelope of typical masculine behavior (like wearing black eyeliner to
school) frustrates and bemuses his father.
Park tends to engage in low-level passive-aggressive behavior to display
his rejection of the image of a stereotypical All-American Midwestern teenager
that his father wants him to have. Park
isn’t a saint, though. He’s plagued by
his own insecurities about his ethnic heritage and his low social status in the
neighborhood. Sometimes, his
insecurities come out in full force, and unfortunately, their target is
sometimes Eleanor. After an argument
with Eleanor regarding Park’s previous (and long-ago) relationship with her
nemesis Tina, Park admits to himself a part of him “didn’t want Tina to get
over him” (Rowell 178). As much as Park
wants to project to the world that he doesn’t care what they think of him, as
demonstrated by dating Eleanor, he admits to himself it does matter because “he
[keeps] finding new pockets of shallow inside himself. He [keeps] finding new ways to betray her”
(Rowell 178).
Throughout the year, Eleanor is haunted by small incidents
of bullying, including filthy messages scrawled on the covers of her
textbooks. She comes to a horrifying realization
about the author of the notes and must make a decision to stay in Omaha or run
away to see if her uncle in St. Paul, Minnesota will offer her sanctuary.
Rowell sets up the novel with a framing device, that’s
almost repeated verbatim at the end, written in Park’s voice. She alternates the rest of the narrative
between Eleanor and Park, sometimes switching voices to give the reader their
individual reactions to the same event.
When she switches between Park and Eleanor’s respective narration,
Rowell notes it with a heading that simply says “Park” or “Eleanor”. I found both of their voices to be quite
distinct from one another. Park, for
example, has a much more lyrical voice.
The first time he holds her hand, he says, “Holding Eleanor’s hand was like
holding a butterfly. Or a
heartbeat. Like holding something
complete, and completely alive” (Rowell 71).
Eleanor, on the other hand describes it this way: “Disintegrated. Like something had gone wrong beaming her
onto the Starship Enterprise. If you’ve ever wondered what that feels like,
it’s a lot like melting -- but more violent” (Rowell 72). Eleanor’s voice has its own poetry, but she
is much more straightforward about what she thinks, keeping her more intimate
emotions tightly under wraps. She often
adds parenthetical comments to her own inner monologue.
Their relationship is “chaste first love, authentic in its
awkwardness -- full of insecurities, miscommunications, and sexual awakenings
-- and life-changing for them” (Ritter 93).
The relationship, as viewed through the prism of their words is -- and
there’s no other word for it -- intense. This intensity, which a reader can feel from
the first moment Park slips his fingers through Eleanor’s, shines through in
their inner thoughts, and sometimes in their dialog with each other. During a rare telephone conversation, Eleanor
tells Park, “I don’t like you, Park,” she said, sounding for a second like she
actually meant it. “I…” -- her voice
nearly disappeared -- “think I live for you” (Rowell 111). Taken out of context, this could be the
corniest bit of dialog ever written, but when placed within the backdrop of
Eleanor’s chaotic home life and marginalized position inside her own family; it
works and sounds nothing but natural coming out of Eleanor’s mouth. The emotional flights of fancy the narrative
takes are mostly in the inner monologues of the characters, so when they do
utter a whimsical phrase, it feels organic, as if Eleanor or Park have loosened
their Vulcan death grip on their own feelings.
Of course, exchanges like this also bring to light the question of whether
or not Eleanor’s feelings for Park are genuine or whether she’s subconsciously
using him to escape her family.
The dialog between Eleanor and Park also reveal their wry
sense of humor, especially during a discussion when Eleanor compares Cyclops from
X-Men to Batman, stating how boring
they both are. When Park protests and
tells her he’s going to loan her his copy of The Dark Knight Returns, he says it’s “Only the least boring Batman story ever” (Rowell 60). Eleanor retorts, “The least boring Batman
story ever, huh? Does Batman raise both eyebrows?” (Rowell 60).
Park’s parents -- Jamie and Min-Dae “Mindy” Sheridan --
aren’t relegated to the background of the novel. They play an active role in the story and
experience just as much growth and character development as Park and
Eleanor. In his review of the novel for
the New York Times, John Green (yes,
that John Green) calls Park’s parents “two of the best-drawn adults I can
remember in a young adult novel” (“Two Against the World”). Park’s father wants Park to be the kind of
Midwestern man with which Mr. Sheridan is most familiar -- tough and
brawny. Oh, and able to drive a stick
shift. It’s clear Mr. Sheridan’s respect
grows for Park and the way he quietly stands up for Eleanor, willing to do what
it takes to protect her. It’s Mrs.
Sheridan who displays the most development out of the two. She’s not fond of Eleanor when they first
meet, but a chance glimpse of Eleanor with her mother and siblings at the
grocery store on Christmas Eve reveals to Mrs. Sheridan the level of Eleanor’s
struggles, and makes her realize she has more in common with Eleanor than at
first glance. Mrs. Sheridan met Mr.
Sheridan when he was serving in Korea in the late 1960s. They married in Seoul, South Korea, and Mrs.
Sheridan proceeded to leave everything she knew behind. Park mentions how she never talks about her
life in Korea, but on Christmas Eve, Mrs. Sheridan recognizes the poverty and
hunger behind the nervous and uncertain front Eleanor presents in the Sheridans’
home. Coming from such dire straits, the
Sheridan house might as well be a foreign country to Eleanor.
I feel Rowell’s inclusion of a discussion of Romeo and Juliet isn’t an accident. Park remarks that the play reminds “people…
what it’s like to be young… and in love” (Rowell 45). In her blog “Monkey See”, NPR correspondent
Linda Holmes comments that for Park and Eleanor, who “feel lost -- because of
bullying, because of abuse, because of race… being loved makes them feel less
lost” (“True Love”). Rowell doesn’t shy
away from the harrowing abuse Richie hurls at Eleanor or the rest of her
family. Holmes, in particular praises
Rowell for this saying, “Ugliness -- honesty about ugliness -- is important,
because it gives shape and meaning to some important stories about not allowing
it to swamp you” (“True Love"). In an
interview with the online magazine The
Toast, Rowell responds to people who feel her book should be banned because
of its unflinching content. She says,
“When these people call Eleanor &
Park an obscene story, I feel like they’re saying that rising above your
situation isn’t possible. That if you
grow up in an ugly situation, your story isn’t even fit for good people’s ears. That ugly things cancel out everything
beautiful” (Ortberg “A Chat With Rainbow Rowell”). Spending most of my teaching career working
with kids who weren’t very different from Eleanor or Park, this is the kind of
book they need to read, if for no other reason than to find out that there are
people like them, who have found a way to survive their situation.
Rowell is also the author of Fangirl, Landline, and Attachments.
Eleanor & Park is a 2014 Printz Honor book.
****************************************
Works Cited
"Eleanor
& Park." Kirkus Reviews 80.24 (2012): 149-. Academic Search
Complete. Web. 22 June 2014.
Green, John.
"Two Against the World." The New York Times, sec. Sunday Book
Review: BR17. March 8 2013. Print.
Holmes, Linda.
"True Love, Book Fights, and Why Ugly Stories Matter." Monkey See.
September 18 2013.Web. 22 June 2014. <http://www.npr.org/blogs/monkeysee/2013/09/18/223738674/true-love-book-fights-and-why-ugly-stories-matter>.
Ortberg,
Mallory. "A Chat With Rainbow Rowell About Love and Censorship."
The Toast. September 17 2013.Web. 22 June 2014. <http://the-toast.net/2013/09/17/chat-rainbow-rowell-love-censorship/>.
Ritter, Cynthia K. "Eleanor &
Park." Horn Book Magazine 89.3 (2013): 93-4. Education Source. Web.
22 June 2014.
Rowell, Rainbow.
Eleanor & Park. New York:
St. Martin’s Griffin, 2013. Print.
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