OMG, THIS BOOK! My mouth hurts from all the smiling! I’d probably look like a loony if I was reading this in public. I couldn’t help it any more if I wanted to because Eleanor & Park was so flipping adorable! Just thinking about it gives me sugar rush; it’s that sickeningly sweet. Thank god all the gushing, squealing and swooning were contained inside the safe zone of my room. I don’t think anybody who is not reading the book can understand any of it. They’d probably think it wasn’t possible to get so much out of a book but this is one of my finest bookgasm experiences ever.
The gist of the book promises the recount of falling in love the way you do the first time, when you’re young, and you feel as if you have nothing and everything to lose. The best thing is this book delivered exactly just that. Bringing that knowledge with me when I started the book, Eleanor & Park still took me by surprise. All the awkwardness, the anxiety of not knowing what to do or how to react, the eagerness to impress and the burst of happiness Eleanor and Park experienced when things started to bloom – you can’t mistake that for anything but first love. I swear this book just gave me diabetes. Too, too sweet!
I’m just going over some of my favourite parts in the book so I'll get to spare you from all the gushing.
That night, Park made a tape with the Joy Division song on it, over and over again. He emptied all his handheld video games and Josh’s remote-control cars and called his grandma to tell her that all he wanted for his birthday in November was double-A batteries.
Jesus. Was it possible to rape somebody’s hand?
Can Park be anymore adorable? I mean look at him! It’s a sin he should remain as a fictional character. Now, who would like to be my Park? Anybody? No?
Saturdays were the worst. On Sundays, Eleanor could think all day about how close it was to Monday. But Saturdays were ten years long.
Eleanor, I so get you. Like so, so, so get you. I know how that feels. Or at least used to.
“I know your number by heart,” she said.
“I’m just afraid you’re going to forget it,” he said quietly. He pushed her hair out of her eyes with his pen.
“I’m not going to forget it,” she said. Ever. She’d probably scream out Park’s number on her deathbed. Or have it tattooed over heart when he finally got sick of her. “I’m good with number.”
This is one of my favourite parts in Eleanor & Park – the phone conversation, and everything else that’s taking place prior and subsequent of it.
“She’s not – ” Park caught himself shouting and clenched his fists. “If I ever hear you call her that again, I’ll kill you. I’ll literally kill you. I’ll go to jail for the rest of my life, and it’ll break Mom’s heart, but I will. Kill. You.”
Park's being cute, again. And not for the last. Just stop. You’re breaking my heart, Park.
“And you look like a protagonist.” She was talking as fast as she could think. “You look like the person who wins in the end. You’re pretty, and so good. You have magic eyes,” she whispered. ‘And you make me feel like a cannibal.”
The last line practically had me doubled over because that’s exactly how I feel whenever I’m drooling over someone (celebrities, most of the time). I feel like ripping their faces off them because they are so downright pretty, it freaking hurts! I mean, look at Ben Barnes. Don’t tell me you don’t go all predatory on him because honey, we are all. I know I am. And don't get me started on other male celebrities. You won't be hearing the end of it, lol.
Ok, I think I'm gonna stop now. It's probably the best.