“Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.”
This is the line that intrigued me to read Eleanor and Park.
I would regard this book as a personal favorite. Delicious and cheesy as Quattro Formaggi. This is so sweet I don’t even want to share my feelings about it. Well, it didn’t quite work according to plan. It meant to me that much because the story is so relate-able, almost true to life, almost like my own. I know some of you have felt it too. And here we are.
But… I am never like Eleanor, what she is and what she had. She is big with bright red curls, wearing clothes that make her look f-ugly by choice except that she didn’t choose to be poor. She didn’t choose the family she’s in, the messed up step-dad, and the bullies in her school. She didn’t choose to fall in love with Park. But Park was the best she’d had. Park was the only good in her life.
“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.”
Park on the other hand, is a half Korean with green eyes and a loving family. He isn’t the popular guy kind of protagonist. Despite his yellow-ish skin asian look, nobody picks on him. He could actually kick you straight on the face if you give him a reason to. But he sees her. He saw her standing on the bus needing a seat. But it’s actually her that he needs all along.
“I don’t like you. I need you. You can ask me why I need you. But I don’t know. I just know that I do. I miss you Eleanor.
I might have said those words long ago or just last week. I might have heard it too from a special someone. But for certain I know how Eleanor and Park feel in their first of everything. How beautiful and scary it is to go on with or without each other. How beautiful and scary it is to go against the world together.
This book gave so many feels. It is romantic, sarcastic, nostalgic, and intriguing that teenagers and teenagers at heart would swoon over. It is a light read and a delightful one.
“Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat.”
To me, holding this book felt like a heartbeat and I couldn’t unhold it until its very end.
Shout out to my YA fan friend who I may now have to introduce to you because I’ve mentioned her twice and probably a few times more, my book-coffee-club date Jera.Thank you for lending me your copy.
How ’bout you? What book reminds you of your first love?