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Eleanor Rigby
Eleanor Rigby is the story of Liz, a self-described drab, overweight, crabby, and friendless middle-aged woman, and her unlikely reunion with the charming and strange son she gave up for adoption. His arrival changes everything, and sets in motion a rapid-fire plot with all the twists and turns we expect of Coupland. By turns funny and heartbreaking, Eleanor Rigby is a fast-paced read and a haunting exploration of the ways in which loneliness affects us all.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
81 people are currently reading
3789 people want to read
About the author
Douglas Coupland
105 books4,666 followersDouglas Coupland is Canadian, born on a Canadian Air Force base near Baden-Baden, Germany, on December 30, 1961. In 1965 his family moved to Vancouver, Canada, where he continues to live and work. Coupland has studied art and design in Vancouver, Canada, Milan, Italy and Sapporo, Japan. His first novel, Generation X, was published in March of 1991. Since then he has published nine novels and several non-fiction books in 35 languages and most countries on earth. He has written and performed for the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford, England, and in 2001 resumed his practice as a visual artist, with exhibitions in spaces in North America, Europe and Asia. 2006 marks the premiere of the feature film Everything's Gone Green, his first story written specifically for the screen and not adapted from any previous work. A TV series (13 one-hour episodes) based on his novel, jPod premieres on the CBC in January, 2008.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 527 reviews
April 25, 2009
“What if God exists but he doesn’t really like people very much?”
It’s 2am. I’m willing back an emotional outburst. It manifests itself in the usual way—lump in the throat, shaky hands. Damn. I hate this and then again…. Do you ever feel like the Tin Man? It’s a horrible feeling. ”I feel like that one Scrabble tile that has no letter on it.” Exactly
It’s been a dozen years (at least) since I’ve read Coupland. I remember being inspired by Generation X and feeling like I was a piece of living history. This was our time---He was writing about me. Oh, to be young and so self-absorbed.
You can’t go home again, right? That’s the saying? Yet here I am feeling that Coupland has nailed it. He gives me faith. Time is whimsical and cruel.” Uh huh.
Maybe I should talk about the book. Right. Stay on track. In front of me is a piece of notebook paper with page numbers and quotes scribbled all over it. I do this when I read something that elicits gooseflesh. 91, 92, 128, 130, 139, 117, 118, 179, 180, 57, 58, 229, 1. So, I’m not exactly sure how to review this book. I mean, I could do the standard book jacket rant, but that’s not me. I’m one of those irritating reviewers that likes to talk about how the book makes me feel and how it relates to me (see: self absorbed).
This book mentions 4 hidden layers of personality, the public self, the private self, the secret self and the dark self. “The fourth is the dark self – the one that drives the car, the one that has the map; the one that is greedy or trusting or filled with hate. It’s so strong it defies speaking.”
Lately, I’ve been relating to that 4th self. That frightens me a little.
This book is about loneliness and settling and then light and hope and visions and ’A new order, cold white lights that burn and die.”
It’s about farmers and fate and family and mystics. It’s seeing beauty in the ordinary and appreciating the surprises. It’s about painting one wall red.
I loved this book. I love Coupland for stringing together words, for giving me my faith and still letting me be a skeptic.
2nd sentence: ”Just imagine looking at our world with brand new eyes, everything fresh, covered with dew and charged with beauty—pale skin and yellow daffodils, boiled lobsters and a full moon.”
It’s a good day.
May 11, 2009
Lonely people want to be dead, yet we’re still not quite ready to go—we don’t want to miss the action; we want to see who wins next year’s Academy Awards.
Doug Coupland’s Eleanor Rigby is tailor-made for dedicated readers fond of literature-focused social networking sites and who maybe, you know, sometimes think they should have more face to face interaction with other human beings but friends, in flesh and blood, can just be so exhausting. Liz, narrator and nondescript cubicle dweller, looks dormant on the exterior but engages in the whirling, detailed thought processes of a lonely person who can watch her surroundings with impunity because most people have forgotten she’s there. She returns to her tomblike condo at night and, well, thinks some more.
Still, even the most careful lonely people cross fortune, and Liz’s path includes German prisons, dead bodies near the railroad tracks, and space detritus falling at her feet.
And therein lies Eleanor Rigby’s nagging problem. Coupland overuses absolutely groan-inducing plot developments, not just tugging at one’s heartstrings but grabbing on tightly and wrenching the goddamn hell out of said strings until you want to kick the author in the balls to make him let go. If he’s not tugging he’s swerving left to right with the dues ex machina like a sugar-addled kindergartner describing a trip to Mars. And why? I’m not entirely sure. The book doesn’t need all that tugging and swerving. Liz’s internal dialogues are excellent, and Coupland’s portrayal of a lonely person’s reflections and perceptions could carry the book on its own. The plot distracted me from the characters.
The last thirty pages almost raised the rating to three stars, but…nah. I’d be lying. Had the book been longer I might have given up. I’ve heard The Gum Thief is great, so I’m going to check out that one. Coupland’s got promise. Eleanor Rigby, however, shoots off like a Roman candle just wet enough to disappoint.
Doug Coupland’s Eleanor Rigby is tailor-made for dedicated readers fond of literature-focused social networking sites and who maybe, you know, sometimes think they should have more face to face interaction with other human beings but friends, in flesh and blood, can just be so exhausting. Liz, narrator and nondescript cubicle dweller, looks dormant on the exterior but engages in the whirling, detailed thought processes of a lonely person who can watch her surroundings with impunity because most people have forgotten she’s there. She returns to her tomblike condo at night and, well, thinks some more.
Still, even the most careful lonely people cross fortune, and Liz’s path includes German prisons, dead bodies near the railroad tracks, and space detritus falling at her feet.
And therein lies Eleanor Rigby’s nagging problem. Coupland overuses absolutely groan-inducing plot developments, not just tugging at one’s heartstrings but grabbing on tightly and wrenching the goddamn hell out of said strings until you want to kick the author in the balls to make him let go. If he’s not tugging he’s swerving left to right with the dues ex machina like a sugar-addled kindergartner describing a trip to Mars. And why? I’m not entirely sure. The book doesn’t need all that tugging and swerving. Liz’s internal dialogues are excellent, and Coupland’s portrayal of a lonely person’s reflections and perceptions could carry the book on its own. The plot distracted me from the characters.
The last thirty pages almost raised the rating to three stars, but…nah. I’d be lying. Had the book been longer I might have given up. I’ve heard The Gum Thief is great, so I’m going to check out that one. Coupland’s got promise. Eleanor Rigby, however, shoots off like a Roman candle just wet enough to disappoint.
July 31, 2016
"All the lonely people, where do they all come from? ....Where do they all belong?" In the song, Eleanor Rigby and Father MacKenzie are lonely and so caught up in their own sorrows that they don't see the lives around them or reach out to others; they see only their own issues. Is this the way it has to be with loneliness?
This story is warm and told with humor and reality. Liz Dunn is lonely. She admits it and waits for death. She sees no other way through life. She's short, overweight, plain, has no friends.....what does she have to offer the world? These problems engulf her (much as Eleanor Rigby's problems did her).
Enter her son who she gave for adoption; a young man who spent his years in foster care, as lonely as one can get.
The events that follow are funny, touching, sad, uplifting and warm.
Coupland is a wonderful writer, getting to the heart of a matter in touching ways. He has a unique perspective.
This story is warm and told with humor and reality. Liz Dunn is lonely. She admits it and waits for death. She sees no other way through life. She's short, overweight, plain, has no friends.....what does she have to offer the world? These problems engulf her (much as Eleanor Rigby's problems did her).
Enter her son who she gave for adoption; a young man who spent his years in foster care, as lonely as one can get.
The events that follow are funny, touching, sad, uplifting and warm.
Coupland is a wonderful writer, getting to the heart of a matter in touching ways. He has a unique perspective.
April 3, 2016
Coupland's books are so unique. I've read three so far and I just have a feeling, that all his books are so out of the ordinary. I wonder, if all this weird questions that appear in his books are basically his questions…and all these random thoughts are his. I love this kind of writing-writing the same way someone speaks. Just laying it all out in the open. Without thinking it through. This story is so captivating and interesting and my favorite so far. But I plan on reading them all. I almost got goose bumps when I read some sentences, because they felt familiar. I recognized myself in them. And at some point this story made my eyes wet.
May 14, 2015
Didn't finish - couldn't finish. I mean seriously, the woman is called to the hospital to see the son she's never met, goes home to clean house and then joins him to crawl on the side of the freeway before bringing him home to make some eggs? If this was given to me in a workshop I would have suggested he go to McDonald's University instead of getting his MFA. "All the lonely people" would rather be alone than spend time with this book. Paul McCartney wrote about a spinster, not a spastic.
September 3, 2016
Weirdly entertaining...
February 25, 2012
I am not Liz Dunn, though I do identify with her. Obviously, I don’t have a twenty-year-old son whom I gave up for adoption. But I can understand her almost ascetic obsession with solitude. I too am a solitary person; I tend to prefer the company of a good book and its characters to the company of good people. Unlike Liz, though, I must confess to having a social life. I have friends, though I may not “hang out” with them as often as most people do. And while some people may question its validity, my online interactions are a large part of my social matrix as well. So I enjoy being alone, but I am not lonely per se.
Loneliness and the often unexpected connections between people echo throughout Douglas Coupland’s works, but they come to the forefront in Eleanor Rigby. Liz has carefully ensconced herself in a bubble, fending off all but the most resilient of her relationships. And even these are routine, predictable affairs: her mother badgers her and tries to interfere with her life; her sister pities her for not wanting the life that her sister has but isn’t happy with; her brother accepts her but is wrapped up in a family and business of his own. The only wildcard in Liz’s life was the child she had while she was still in high school, a child who shows up twenty years later, precipitating a crisis of loneliness in Liz’s life.
One reason I enjoy Coupland’s novels so much is that his characters always feel like people. They talk like people who are close to each other talk, in meandering conversations that branch into multiple topics as each person’s words spark new connections in others’ minds. It’s not at all like the straightforward dialogue of most novels, wherein dialogue is mainly a mechanism for advancing the plot. And it comes with a challenge, because of course fiction isn’t real life, and so one must balance the realistic dialogue with the needs of the story. It’s this ability to strike an equilibrium between the craziness of real life and the need for fiction to be believable that makes Coupland so compelling for me.
This is a stark contrast to Coupland’s plots, which make very little sense and are always coated in a glossy layer of absurdity. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Take the relationship between Liz and Jeremy for example. Jeremy’s reappearance in Liz’s life comes with a fatal complication: multiple sclerosis (MS). There is no happily ever after for these two, and Liz must face the fact that their reunion will be short-lived and complicated. I find it interesting that there is never any tension between these two. Liz accepts Jeremy’s reorganization of her life with equanimity. Similarly, Jeremy does no wrong. For a kid who had a rather rough time of it in foster homes, he seems to be largely untroubled. He doesn’t seem to have an ulterior motive, doesn’t seem to want to just take advantage of Liz, steal her stuff, and leave. Despite his awful luck in the foster home lottery, he somehow managed to turn out as a decent individual.
Similarly, in the real world, Liz’s incident at the Frankfurt airport would have much more serious consequences than a slap on the wrist and a thorough decontamination. In Coupland’s novels, bad things happen, but they always seem so carefully calibrated to some precise degree of badness. This is how I know Coupland, for all his caustic observations of modern society, is an optimist and not a cynic. His endings are happy endings—not for every character, and maybe not even for the main character. People experience loss and sadness and death, but by the end of the book, something has changed for the better. Coupland’s novels are sneaky reminders that it’s never too late for hope, not even after an apocalypse, or peak oil, or the return of one’s twenty-year-old son.
And then we come to the ending, which is, for me, the least satisfactory part of the book. It’s just dumb: Liz flies to Austria to meet someone she barely remembers from her past, and then they fall in love. I’m almost tempted to conjecture that Coupland lost a bet and was forced, as a condition of his loss, to write the ending this way. But I’m sure he had his reasons, not the least of which is the need to rectify Liz’s loneliness, which has returned since Jeremy’s death. Still, I think he could have done better.
Coupland is renowned not only as a writer but as a visual artist as well, and I think this influences his writing to a great extent. That is to say, his books often seem to make more sense when viewed slightly from a distance, as a whole and complete entity, rather than viewing them up close and in a sustained, linear fashion. Paintings, unlike stories, are not meant to be read from left to right, page to page. And actually, I would probably say Coupland’s novels are more like sculpture or an installation piece than any two-dimensional art: different when viewed from different angles, with little jaggy bits sticking out.
Eleanor Rigby the linear narrative is contrived and somewhat disappointing. Eleanor Rigby the work of art is stimulating and moving. It’s the perception of this difference (whether conscious or not), perhaps, that makes it possible to be a fan of Coupland. Because people who pan his books as contrived or curiously constructed are entirely right. This isn’t literature so much as it is visual art translated into the written word. The fact that this appeals to me is ironic, because I work at an art gallery but do not take much time to look at the art.
I suppose this hasn’t been a review of Eleanor Rigby so much as a kind of rumination on my Coupland fandom. Try as I might, I’m finding it hard to pick out specific parts of Eleanor Rigby to praise, despite being able to find a few things I could criticize. I suppose I really enjoyed Jeremy’s newfound interest in selling mattresses. I don’t know if that’s just because it feels so quotidian and Couplandy, or if I secretly yearn for a series of novels that follows a mattress salesman. Mostly, though, I think Eleanor Rigby crystallized some of my conflicting thoughts and attitudes towards Coupland. He’s a better storyteller than he is a writer, but for all their flaws, his stories always seem to have nougats of truth.
Loneliness and the often unexpected connections between people echo throughout Douglas Coupland’s works, but they come to the forefront in Eleanor Rigby. Liz has carefully ensconced herself in a bubble, fending off all but the most resilient of her relationships. And even these are routine, predictable affairs: her mother badgers her and tries to interfere with her life; her sister pities her for not wanting the life that her sister has but isn’t happy with; her brother accepts her but is wrapped up in a family and business of his own. The only wildcard in Liz’s life was the child she had while she was still in high school, a child who shows up twenty years later, precipitating a crisis of loneliness in Liz’s life.
One reason I enjoy Coupland’s novels so much is that his characters always feel like people. They talk like people who are close to each other talk, in meandering conversations that branch into multiple topics as each person’s words spark new connections in others’ minds. It’s not at all like the straightforward dialogue of most novels, wherein dialogue is mainly a mechanism for advancing the plot. And it comes with a challenge, because of course fiction isn’t real life, and so one must balance the realistic dialogue with the needs of the story. It’s this ability to strike an equilibrium between the craziness of real life and the need for fiction to be believable that makes Coupland so compelling for me.
This is a stark contrast to Coupland’s plots, which make very little sense and are always coated in a glossy layer of absurdity. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Take the relationship between Liz and Jeremy for example. Jeremy’s reappearance in Liz’s life comes with a fatal complication: multiple sclerosis (MS). There is no happily ever after for these two, and Liz must face the fact that their reunion will be short-lived and complicated. I find it interesting that there is never any tension between these two. Liz accepts Jeremy’s reorganization of her life with equanimity. Similarly, Jeremy does no wrong. For a kid who had a rather rough time of it in foster homes, he seems to be largely untroubled. He doesn’t seem to have an ulterior motive, doesn’t seem to want to just take advantage of Liz, steal her stuff, and leave. Despite his awful luck in the foster home lottery, he somehow managed to turn out as a decent individual.
Similarly, in the real world, Liz’s incident at the Frankfurt airport would have much more serious consequences than a slap on the wrist and a thorough decontamination. In Coupland’s novels, bad things happen, but they always seem so carefully calibrated to some precise degree of badness. This is how I know Coupland, for all his caustic observations of modern society, is an optimist and not a cynic. His endings are happy endings—not for every character, and maybe not even for the main character. People experience loss and sadness and death, but by the end of the book, something has changed for the better. Coupland’s novels are sneaky reminders that it’s never too late for hope, not even after an apocalypse, or peak oil, or the return of one’s twenty-year-old son.
And then we come to the ending, which is, for me, the least satisfactory part of the book. It’s just dumb: Liz flies to Austria to meet someone she barely remembers from her past, and then they fall in love. I’m almost tempted to conjecture that Coupland lost a bet and was forced, as a condition of his loss, to write the ending this way. But I’m sure he had his reasons, not the least of which is the need to rectify Liz’s loneliness, which has returned since Jeremy’s death. Still, I think he could have done better.
Coupland is renowned not only as a writer but as a visual artist as well, and I think this influences his writing to a great extent. That is to say, his books often seem to make more sense when viewed slightly from a distance, as a whole and complete entity, rather than viewing them up close and in a sustained, linear fashion. Paintings, unlike stories, are not meant to be read from left to right, page to page. And actually, I would probably say Coupland’s novels are more like sculpture or an installation piece than any two-dimensional art: different when viewed from different angles, with little jaggy bits sticking out.
Eleanor Rigby the linear narrative is contrived and somewhat disappointing. Eleanor Rigby the work of art is stimulating and moving. It’s the perception of this difference (whether conscious or not), perhaps, that makes it possible to be a fan of Coupland. Because people who pan his books as contrived or curiously constructed are entirely right. This isn’t literature so much as it is visual art translated into the written word. The fact that this appeals to me is ironic, because I work at an art gallery but do not take much time to look at the art.
I suppose this hasn’t been a review of Eleanor Rigby so much as a kind of rumination on my Coupland fandom. Try as I might, I’m finding it hard to pick out specific parts of Eleanor Rigby to praise, despite being able to find a few things I could criticize. I suppose I really enjoyed Jeremy’s newfound interest in selling mattresses. I don’t know if that’s just because it feels so quotidian and Couplandy, or if I secretly yearn for a series of novels that follows a mattress salesman. Mostly, though, I think Eleanor Rigby crystallized some of my conflicting thoughts and attitudes towards Coupland. He’s a better storyteller than he is a writer, but for all their flaws, his stories always seem to have nougats of truth.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 22, 2023
Todo Douglas Coupland es ORO. Y este lo es especialmente.
May 17, 2019
For the life of me I couldn’t tell you what he’s trying to do with this book.
March 28, 2023
The right mix of tragedy, comedy and quirkyness
I think me and Liz would be good friends in real life. I mean, she refers to her boss as The Dwarf That I Report To. It cracked me up every time (yes, I have that kind of sense of humour)
My favorite Coupland so far, and completely different from Girlfriend in a Coma and Hey Nostradamus!
I think me and Liz would be good friends in real life. I mean, she refers to her boss as The Dwarf That I Report To. It cracked me up every time (yes, I have that kind of sense of humour)
My favorite Coupland so far, and completely different from Girlfriend in a Coma and Hey Nostradamus!
September 8, 2014
I'm afraid I've long since passed my peak of patience with Douglas Coupland. I guess this isn't so much a review of Eleanor Rigby, as it is a review of anything I've read by him. I must have read at least 6 or 7 of his books and I think I could equally apply this review to most of them.
The first of his I read was Jpod and I still enjoy that. I then read Generation X and I enjoyed that too. But with each passing book of his I've read, I've enjoyed them less and less. I don't know if that's a sign of age (mine, since Generation X and Generation A are around 20 years apart and feel largely the same) or whether it's the books which are the issue.
Initially, Coupland's novels seem witty, irreverent and somehow holding a deeper meaning in amongst the pseudo spiritual Armageddon scenarios he's been selling for years. The thing is, I find now that most of the characters are interchangeable. As are the plot lines. I cannot distinguish one story from another now. They're just so similar in so many ways.
As a 19 year old I loved that intellectual bent his novels seemed to hold, but now I can't see it any more. I no longer believe that they are as smart as they believe they are. It all feels like posturing. Reading multiple Coupland books erodes any sense of weight you initially applied to his thoughts.
I'd still recommend Jpod and Generation X to people who haven't touched anything by him. Especially if you work in software. However, I'd say pick three of his and leave it at that. Read any more and you'll ruin it for yourself.
As for Eleanor Rigby, it's just pointless. Normally (I say normally, I mean every time) Coupland novels tend to weave their way to a bit of a non-ending. That's quite charming in most cases, but I just don't follow it here. This story never really has any satisfying moments to it. Some interlinked events happen. Some Coupland characters say some Coupland-ish things. At some arbitrary point, it ends.
If you choose to read a book by Coupland, don't choose this one.
The first of his I read was Jpod and I still enjoy that. I then read Generation X and I enjoyed that too. But with each passing book of his I've read, I've enjoyed them less and less. I don't know if that's a sign of age (mine, since Generation X and Generation A are around 20 years apart and feel largely the same) or whether it's the books which are the issue.
Initially, Coupland's novels seem witty, irreverent and somehow holding a deeper meaning in amongst the pseudo spiritual Armageddon scenarios he's been selling for years. The thing is, I find now that most of the characters are interchangeable. As are the plot lines. I cannot distinguish one story from another now. They're just so similar in so many ways.
As a 19 year old I loved that intellectual bent his novels seemed to hold, but now I can't see it any more. I no longer believe that they are as smart as they believe they are. It all feels like posturing. Reading multiple Coupland books erodes any sense of weight you initially applied to his thoughts.
I'd still recommend Jpod and Generation X to people who haven't touched anything by him. Especially if you work in software. However, I'd say pick three of his and leave it at that. Read any more and you'll ruin it for yourself.
As for Eleanor Rigby, it's just pointless. Normally (I say normally, I mean every time) Coupland novels tend to weave their way to a bit of a non-ending. That's quite charming in most cases, but I just don't follow it here. This story never really has any satisfying moments to it. Some interlinked events happen. Some Coupland characters say some Coupland-ish things. At some arbitrary point, it ends.
If you choose to read a book by Coupland, don't choose this one.
June 5, 2007
I loved this one. As could probably be inferred by the title, this is a book about loneliness—a reoccurring theme for Coupland. The narrator, Liz Dunn, is the type of anonymous, forgotten woman described in the Beatles' song, wonderfully fleshed out—I found her incredibly believable and moving. (Coupland in general writes women very well—in other words, like any other character, male or female.) Aside from a bit of weirdness involving some radioactive material and a German prison, this is actually an incredibly realistic, plausible narrative, which, as much as I enjoy wackiness, was much more appropriate to the subject matter (thus making the pair of weird events I mentioned above seem somewhat inappropriate and out of place, but it's a relatively small misstep, so whatever). There's a very deep undercurrent of tragedy in this book, but still hope, still wonder—Coupland does bittersweet amazingly well.
February 17, 2022
The main character Liz has a reflective clarity in her loneliness that just keeps the story so interesting as she’s met with increasingly surreal happenings. This book is both candid and existential, such a good combo.
March 9, 2021
Мне повезло, что при первом знакомстве с этой книгой я догадался про песню Битлов. Правда я в эту песню не особо вслушивался, поэтому полез узнавать про нее. Понял, что это не какая-то знаменитость с интересной историей (как я втайне надеялся), а обычная одинокая девушка. И что это имя впервые появилось в этой песне и в определенных кругах стало нарицательным. Теперь я был морально готов к чтению книги. Да, она про одиночество.
Одинокая женщина по имени Лиз Данн живет своей одинокой жизнью. Ходит на какую-то свою странную работу, где непонятно чем занимается. Она там по большому счету на хорошем счету, как такая безотказная работница. Еще у нее есть родные — мама, брат и сестра. Но с ними она просто поддерживает хорошие отношения. А вот с друзьями — полный швах. Живет в своей квартире, ну как живет, обитает. Вечером приходит, смотрит новости, что-то ест, утром встает, идет на работу и так каждый день. И в общем-то она особо не страдает от этого. Смирилась. У нее никогда не было серьезных отношений с другими людьми. Она не самая красивая, себя считает серой и неинтересной. В общем, такой стандартный человек из толпы. Но вот внезапно в её жизни появляется сын. Откуда? Как?
Повествование здесь выстроено, кстати, довольно нелинейно. Нет никаких указателей на время происхождения тех или иных событий. Само повествование ведется от лица Лиз. Как будто она ведет свой дневник с историями из своей жизни, и ведет она его довольно странно. То записывает дела давно минувших лет, то вдруг пропускает огромные куски события из своей жизни. Поэтому довольно сложно определить, а что там сейчас происходит? В какой момент времени? Что случилось с тем или иным героем? Блин, как это прошло несколько лет? А мне то откуда знать?
В общем, читать было довольно сложно, пару раз даже приходилось возвращаться, чтобы понять — это уже новое время, или все еще продолжение рассказов о прошлых временах? С другой стороны, история мне показалась довольно интересной. Даже эти прыжки во времени оказались вписаны в нее вполне себе гармонично. Можно даже сказать, что добавляли остроты всем этим история. Ну да, да. Тут, по сути, своей сразу несколько историй, которые продолжают одна другую. История молодой Лиз, история уже взрослой Лиз и история Лиз чуть более взрослой (сложно писать об этом не нарываясь на спойлеры, поэтому пусть будет так). Каждая из этих историй имеет вполне себе завершенный сюжет и свою развязку. Правда все они рассказывают читателям практически одновременно. Ну, чтобы избежать спойлеров, как мне кажется.
Так что да, чтение меня затянуло. И героиня показалась интересной. Несмотря на то, что сама себя она считает довольно скучным и обыденным человеком, внутри у нее оказывается таится куча всего интересного и оригинального. У нее своеобразное чувство юмора, зачастую граничащее с цинизмом. Ну да, мне оно оказалось довольно близко, поэтому и оценил. Кому-то может показаться иначе. А еще у нее вполне себе доброе сердце и любящая душа. Просто пока в жизни не оказалось кого-то кто получил бы это сполна. Но сразу предупреждаю, это довольно грустная история. Которая может заставить вас, как и меня задуматься — а что в своей жизни сделал ты? Чего ты добился и не слишком ли поздно уже спохватиться? Пусть Лиз и доказывает, что никогда не поздно, но все равно, даже этим своим доказательством она показывает, как много времени может быть упущено, как много можно было бы достичь, поступи ты когда-то по-другому. Возможно, автор и не это имел в виду, но я прочитал это именно так. Впрочем, возможно это моя личная меланхолия играет на струнах моей души.
Одинокая женщина по имени Лиз Данн живет своей одинокой жизнью. Ходит на какую-то свою странную работу, где непонятно чем занимается. Она там по большому счету на хорошем счету, как такая безотказная работница. Еще у нее есть родные — мама, брат и сестра. Но с ними она просто поддерживает хорошие отношения. А вот с друзьями — полный швах. Живет в своей квартире, ну как живет, обитает. Вечером приходит, смотрит новости, что-то ест, утром встает, идет на работу и так каждый день. И в общем-то она особо не страдает от этого. Смирилась. У нее никогда не было серьезных отношений с другими людьми. Она не самая красивая, себя считает серой и неинтересной. В общем, такой стандартный человек из толпы. Но вот внезапно в её жизни появляется сын. Откуда? Как?
Повествование здесь выстроено, кстати, довольно нелинейно. Нет никаких указателей на время происхождения тех или иных событий. Само повествование ведется от лица Лиз. Как будто она ведет свой дневник с историями из своей жизни, и ведет она его довольно странно. То записывает дела давно минувших лет, то вдруг пропускает огромные куски события из своей жизни. Поэтому довольно сложно определить, а что там сейчас происходит? В какой момент времени? Что случилось с тем или иным героем? Блин, как это прошло несколько лет? А мне то откуда знать?
В общем, читать было довольно сложно, пару раз даже приходилось возвращаться, чтобы понять — это уже новое время, или все еще продолжение рассказов о прошлых временах? С другой стороны, история мне показалась довольно интересной. Даже эти прыжки во времени оказались вписаны в нее вполне себе гармонично. Можно даже сказать, что добавляли остроты всем этим история. Ну да, да. Тут, по сути, своей сразу несколько историй, которые продолжают одна другую. История молодой Лиз, история уже взрослой Лиз и история Лиз чуть более взрослой (сложно писать об этом не нарываясь на спойлеры, поэтому пусть будет так). Каждая из этих историй имеет вполне себе завершенный сюжет и свою развязку. Правда все они рассказывают читателям практически одновременно. Ну, чтобы избежать спойлеров, как мне кажется.
Так что да, чтение меня затянуло. И героиня показалась интересной. Несмотря на то, что сама себя она считает довольно скучным и обыденным человеком, внутри у нее оказывается таится куча всего интересного и оригинального. У нее своеобразное чувство юмора, зачастую граничащее с цинизмом. Ну да, мне оно оказалось довольно близко, поэтому и оценил. Кому-то может показаться иначе. А еще у нее вполне себе доброе сердце и любящая душа. Просто пока в жизни не оказалось кого-то кто получил бы это сполна. Но сразу предупреждаю, это довольно грустная история. Которая может заставить вас, как и меня задуматься — а что в своей жизни сделал ты? Чего ты добился и не слишком ли поздно уже спохватиться? Пусть Лиз и доказывает, что никогда не поздно, но все равно, даже этим своим доказательством она показывает, как много времени может быть упущено, как много можно было бы достичь, поступи ты когда-то по-другому. Возможно, автор и не это имел в виду, но я прочитал это именно так. Впрочем, возможно это моя личная меланхолия играет на струнах моей души.
June 20, 2015
Douglas Coupland is one of those authors I think I’m supposed to really like, but with whom I’ve never quite clicked. I know he does the kinda snarky, sorta postmodernist literary fiction that’s usually my cup o’ tea, but for some reason he’s never joined the ranks of those authors whose work I regularly seek out. My first encounter with Coupland’s work was his first – and best known – novel, Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture. I read this in the late 1990s, at the point when I was entering my late 20s and not feeling much affinity with the generation that was supposed to define me. I was (am?) an Xer, but the book itself – despite being about my people – didn’t do much for me. A quick look at my bookshelf tells me that I also read Shampoo Planet, about which I remember exactly nothing. My first exposure to Coupland’s work actually came before either of these books, listening to half of Microserfs in audiobook form on a road trip to rock climb in Yosemite National Park. I have fond memories of that drive, but it’s highly likely the book may not have had much to do with it.
All the hype on Coupland’s work tells me we should be literary BFFs. But here we are, with 2004’s Eleanor Rigby being only the third of his books I’ve read in twenty years. And the hell of it is, even after reading this generally pleasant book, I’m no closer to figuring out just what I think of him. The book is completely, resolutely fine. I liked it. It was a fast read. I laughed out loud once or twice. But I never fully engaged with the story in the way that makes a difference to a reader.
The thing is, though, I should have. Liz Dunn, the book’s protagonist, suffers from the kind of loneliness that should have resonated with me in a big way. I’ve written elsewhere in these reviews about struggling with anxiety and depression throughout much of my life, and there was a time in my late 20s and early 30s when I felt a sort of unrelenting loneliness, even though I had good friends and a satisfying career. The really remarkable thing is how accurately Coupland – via Liz – pins down that specific feeling:
"One of my big problems is time sickness. When I feel lonely, I assume that the mood will never pass – that I’ll feel lonely and bad for the rest of my life, which means that I’ve wrecked both the present and the future. And if I look back on my past, I wreck that too, by concentrating on all the things I did wrong. The brutal thing about time sickness is that naming it is no cure."
I know that feeling exactly, the constant looking back and looking forward and dwelling on the present and being dissatisfied with all of it. (For me specifically there’s also a lot of what the late, great David Foster Wallace admitted to in a Rolling Stone interview, where he claimed to never have had a genuine human interaction because he was so plagued with social anxiety that he constantly stood one step outside himself, evaluating how his interactions with other people were going instead of just experiencing them. But that’s a story for another therapy session.) But somehow, despite the feeling that I knew Liz, her story was entertaining without really hitting home.
And again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, it should have. Because at the point where Liz’s loneliness seems to be transitioning into despondence, she receives an unexpected visitor: the son she gave up for adoption after a drunken fling in Italy at the age of 16 resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. Jeremy is now 20, has multiple sclerosis, and needs a place to stay. Liz takes him in without hesitation, and the act of becoming both a mother and a caregiver gives her purpose and meaning. Remarkably, Coupland manages to do this without ever dipping into schmaltz or sentimentality, at least partially because Jeremy himself is such an irrepressible figure. Rather than allowing himself to be a mopey victim of his debilitating condition, Jeremy gets a job as a salesman at a mattress store, gleefully selling its customers on “sleep systems” they don’t really need. I found it impossible to dislike Jeremy and equally improbable not to root for Liz as she haltingly emerged from her shell. It’s really, really good stuff.
All of this plays out breezily, even after Coupland fast-forwards seven years and Liz finds herself arrested in Germany on suspicions of terrorism, which involves a plot twist whose intricacies I won’t reveal here. The fact that I found myself willingly entertaining these plot contortions (which also include a meteorite crash, Jeremy’s occasional bouts with prophetic visions, and flashbacks to Liz’s days in Italy) is a credit to the thoughtful way Coupland balances humor and pathos, and the sensitivity he pays to each of his characters – even Liz’s diminutive boss Liam (aka, The Dwarf to Whom I Report).
But as I say, this book never clicked with me in the way I thought it should. I’m not sure what to chalk it up to, but I suspect it might have to do with this simple truth: I’m not lonely anymore. I can remember those feelings, but at a remove, like a photograph that’s started to fade in the sun. And because I don’t remember them fondly, Liz’s struggles carry perhaps just a bit too much verisimilitude for comfort, even though I found much in the book to otherwise enjoy.
Which leaves me pretty much where I started: I still don’t know what to make of Douglas Coupland. Perhaps it’s enough to say that I’m willing to try another of his books to see if that’s the one to make a difference.
Read all my reviews at goldstarforrobotboy.net
All the hype on Coupland’s work tells me we should be literary BFFs. But here we are, with 2004’s Eleanor Rigby being only the third of his books I’ve read in twenty years. And the hell of it is, even after reading this generally pleasant book, I’m no closer to figuring out just what I think of him. The book is completely, resolutely fine. I liked it. It was a fast read. I laughed out loud once or twice. But I never fully engaged with the story in the way that makes a difference to a reader.
The thing is, though, I should have. Liz Dunn, the book’s protagonist, suffers from the kind of loneliness that should have resonated with me in a big way. I’ve written elsewhere in these reviews about struggling with anxiety and depression throughout much of my life, and there was a time in my late 20s and early 30s when I felt a sort of unrelenting loneliness, even though I had good friends and a satisfying career. The really remarkable thing is how accurately Coupland – via Liz – pins down that specific feeling:
"One of my big problems is time sickness. When I feel lonely, I assume that the mood will never pass – that I’ll feel lonely and bad for the rest of my life, which means that I’ve wrecked both the present and the future. And if I look back on my past, I wreck that too, by concentrating on all the things I did wrong. The brutal thing about time sickness is that naming it is no cure."
I know that feeling exactly, the constant looking back and looking forward and dwelling on the present and being dissatisfied with all of it. (For me specifically there’s also a lot of what the late, great David Foster Wallace admitted to in a Rolling Stone interview, where he claimed to never have had a genuine human interaction because he was so plagued with social anxiety that he constantly stood one step outside himself, evaluating how his interactions with other people were going instead of just experiencing them. But that’s a story for another therapy session.) But somehow, despite the feeling that I knew Liz, her story was entertaining without really hitting home.
And again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, it should have. Because at the point where Liz’s loneliness seems to be transitioning into despondence, she receives an unexpected visitor: the son she gave up for adoption after a drunken fling in Italy at the age of 16 resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. Jeremy is now 20, has multiple sclerosis, and needs a place to stay. Liz takes him in without hesitation, and the act of becoming both a mother and a caregiver gives her purpose and meaning. Remarkably, Coupland manages to do this without ever dipping into schmaltz or sentimentality, at least partially because Jeremy himself is such an irrepressible figure. Rather than allowing himself to be a mopey victim of his debilitating condition, Jeremy gets a job as a salesman at a mattress store, gleefully selling its customers on “sleep systems” they don’t really need. I found it impossible to dislike Jeremy and equally improbable not to root for Liz as she haltingly emerged from her shell. It’s really, really good stuff.
All of this plays out breezily, even after Coupland fast-forwards seven years and Liz finds herself arrested in Germany on suspicions of terrorism, which involves a plot twist whose intricacies I won’t reveal here. The fact that I found myself willingly entertaining these plot contortions (which also include a meteorite crash, Jeremy’s occasional bouts with prophetic visions, and flashbacks to Liz’s days in Italy) is a credit to the thoughtful way Coupland balances humor and pathos, and the sensitivity he pays to each of his characters – even Liz’s diminutive boss Liam (aka, The Dwarf to Whom I Report).
But as I say, this book never clicked with me in the way I thought it should. I’m not sure what to chalk it up to, but I suspect it might have to do with this simple truth: I’m not lonely anymore. I can remember those feelings, but at a remove, like a photograph that’s started to fade in the sun. And because I don’t remember them fondly, Liz’s struggles carry perhaps just a bit too much verisimilitude for comfort, even though I found much in the book to otherwise enjoy.
Which leaves me pretty much where I started: I still don’t know what to make of Douglas Coupland. Perhaps it’s enough to say that I’m willing to try another of his books to see if that’s the one to make a difference.
Read all my reviews at goldstarforrobotboy.net
May 18, 2021
I enjoyed this quite a lot. It was very different from what I was expecting, in a good way. The writing was quite funny in places, and I am surprised at how emotionally connected I felt to it. Liz was a great narrator--I found her very relatable, and she was honest about her situation without falling into self-pity. I expected more zany quirkiness just for the sake of quirkiness, but although there was a small amount of that, it managed to stay fairly grounded and relevant to the plot. I've never been interested in Coupland's work before, but I am going to have to give it a go now.
April 27, 2021
3.5. This was an easy, light read that also had a lot of heart and was very fun. This novel will not shake the world, nor does it present anything new, but it was very (!) funny and I would say, worth the 2 days it'll take you to read it. I would recommend it as a perhaps elevated take on the beach read.
February 21, 2010
What a disappointment! I will start off stating that I really wanted to love this book. It was advised to me by a friend, and it is named after a Beatles song. This latter point is actually the reason why I picked this particular book by Coupland, and not another one.
This was my very first book by Douglas Coupland. As a result, I had no idea what to expect style-wise but I had high hopes. The book begins with the introduction of the main character, the self-proclaimed lonely Liz Dunn. The description of some events from her youth makes you feel that she could have avoided loneliness: she definitely lived things not everyone does. But Liz’s life really changes when she is contacted by the son she gave birth to as she was just a teenager and gave up for adoption.
I was expecting a very, very sad book. A depressing one, even. But it was not. I suppose that’s where the major disappointment comes from. Do you have Eleanor Rigby, the song, in mind? It is such a sad, claustrophobic song. There is a real dark atmosphere. And I couldn’t find this in the book. On many occasions, Coupland’s style reminded me of Nick Hornby’s. And Nick Hornby is very good at writing very lightly about serious subjects. Since Douglas Coupland said he was inspired by the Beatles song to write this book, I think that he should either have written something sadder or call his book something else. I wasn’t moved by Jeremy’s story (Jeremy being Liz’s son) and I had a feeling that Liz sort of appreciated her loneliness, as if it were part of her and she did not really want to see things change. Sure, she is surrounded with stupid, annoying people: her siblings, mother and colleagues. But don’t we all? And yet we’re not necessarily lonely. It felt as though she was trying too hard to be lonely – and she kept reminding us throughout the novel: she’s a fat, ugly, lonely woman. I didn’t feel she was someone I could relate to. On the contrary, she annoyed me because she liked the comfort of her poor, boring life. As the end shows, it didn’t take all that much for her to actually have a life and stop being lonely. So she was just a whining character who was not willing to try, in my opinion.
Finally, as far as the story goes, after the big thing happens to Jeremy (I don’t want to spoil the fun if you plan on reading the book), I think that the plot goes downhill and doesn’t make much sense anymore. What’s with the whole meteorite story line? And the very end is too quick. How can such a lonely, unwilling woman jump into a relationship as if it were natural? And then, why didn’t she do it before then? Of course, that man is special, but still.
So overall, I was really disappointed with this book but I believe that’s because I expected something else.
This was my very first book by Douglas Coupland. As a result, I had no idea what to expect style-wise but I had high hopes. The book begins with the introduction of the main character, the self-proclaimed lonely Liz Dunn. The description of some events from her youth makes you feel that she could have avoided loneliness: she definitely lived things not everyone does. But Liz’s life really changes when she is contacted by the son she gave birth to as she was just a teenager and gave up for adoption.
I was expecting a very, very sad book. A depressing one, even. But it was not. I suppose that’s where the major disappointment comes from. Do you have Eleanor Rigby, the song, in mind? It is such a sad, claustrophobic song. There is a real dark atmosphere. And I couldn’t find this in the book. On many occasions, Coupland’s style reminded me of Nick Hornby’s. And Nick Hornby is very good at writing very lightly about serious subjects. Since Douglas Coupland said he was inspired by the Beatles song to write this book, I think that he should either have written something sadder or call his book something else. I wasn’t moved by Jeremy’s story (Jeremy being Liz’s son) and I had a feeling that Liz sort of appreciated her loneliness, as if it were part of her and she did not really want to see things change. Sure, she is surrounded with stupid, annoying people: her siblings, mother and colleagues. But don’t we all? And yet we’re not necessarily lonely. It felt as though she was trying too hard to be lonely – and she kept reminding us throughout the novel: she’s a fat, ugly, lonely woman. I didn’t feel she was someone I could relate to. On the contrary, she annoyed me because she liked the comfort of her poor, boring life. As the end shows, it didn’t take all that much for her to actually have a life and stop being lonely. So she was just a whining character who was not willing to try, in my opinion.
Finally, as far as the story goes, after the big thing happens to Jeremy (I don’t want to spoil the fun if you plan on reading the book), I think that the plot goes downhill and doesn’t make much sense anymore. What’s with the whole meteorite story line? And the very end is too quick. How can such a lonely, unwilling woman jump into a relationship as if it were natural? And then, why didn’t she do it before then? Of course, that man is special, but still.
So overall, I was really disappointed with this book but I believe that’s because I expected something else.
January 7, 2020
Eleanor Rigby is one of Douglas Coupland's best novels, featuring one of his most sympathetic and likable main characters - Liz Dunn.
The book tells the story of Liz reconnecting with her son Jeremy, who she gave up for adoption when she was a teenager. Liz is a desperately lonely, unhappy woman, and through Jeremy, she's able to wake up and reconnect with the concept of having a life.
Liz makes a unique main character, if for no other reason than she's extremely overweight. It's only through reading this I realized how few books feature overweight people as MCs. And her weight is not a plot point, but he provides a somewhat unflinching look at how it impacts her life.
Of course, much of the book deals with the concept of lonliness, which is a theme that crops up over and over again in Coupland's writing. It's a sad, sweet, melancholy look of what it's like to be an adult with no real friends or connections.
An excellent read and a must for anyone thinking of diving deeper into Coupland's library
The book tells the story of Liz reconnecting with her son Jeremy, who she gave up for adoption when she was a teenager. Liz is a desperately lonely, unhappy woman, and through Jeremy, she's able to wake up and reconnect with the concept of having a life.
Liz makes a unique main character, if for no other reason than she's extremely overweight. It's only through reading this I realized how few books feature overweight people as MCs. And her weight is not a plot point, but he provides a somewhat unflinching look at how it impacts her life.
Of course, much of the book deals with the concept of lonliness, which is a theme that crops up over and over again in Coupland's writing. It's a sad, sweet, melancholy look of what it's like to be an adult with no real friends or connections.
An excellent read and a must for anyone thinking of diving deeper into Coupland's library
July 30, 2007
This is a step away from Coupland's usual; there's the same piercing prose, the same uncanny finger on the heart of modern life, the same engrossing characters, but the language has been stripped down to essentials. While I've always loved his dense, allusion-filled writing, it's equally enjoyable to see him strive for a cleaner style. The narrator is Liz Dunn, a pragmatic, sharp-tongued, utterly lonely woman who receives a phonecall which, for a little while, changes everything. The beauty in this story is getting into Liz's head, and experiencing it the way she does; there are hints of the mystical, supernatural themes which often appear in Coupland's work, but it's less literal this time around and more aspirational. As usual, his greatest strength is in creating round and engaging characters who both entertain with wit and pull the reader in with their very real sense of isolation. Highly recommended.
August 19, 2017
Non sono ancora sicura di cosa penso di questo romanzo. Sicuramente la narrazione in prima persona di Liz, che ci parla dal futuro e ha l'abitudine di evitare completamente un argomento fino a quando non è più possibile farlo, e quindi ci catapulta all'improvviso nel bezzo di un evento inaspettato, a volte anche estremamente surreale (sto pensando all'episodio dell'aeroporto in particolare), è avvincente, ma a tratti le sue riflessioni sulla solitudine e sulla mortalità (o semplicemente la morte) riescono ad essere vagamente noiose. Nel complesso una storia di evoluzione personale che nonostante la trama e il finale riesce ad evitare del tutto la svenevolezza grazie ad una profondissima e dolentissima tristezza che risulta piuttosto affascinante.
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http://robertabookshelf.blogspot.it/2...
October 2, 2016
Often times when I go to the library sales, I often find something I would never read on my own and get a pleasent surprise. This is one of those times. There is no Eleanor Rigby in the book, the title is obviously there to remind you that you are reading about lonely people and where do they come from. Well this is nature over nurture as we see father, mother, and son all suffer from self imposed loneliness. While I admire that the book doesn't soft peddle this, and Coupland is an author who's work I have enjoyed from Microserfs does try to give us a realistic portrait here, it still gives us an artificial contrived "happy ending" that I did feel takes away from the book getting there. Read the book, ignore the ending. It has worked for fans of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
January 27, 2009
I was expecting a light, entertaining read, that I would enjoy but probably wouldn't contemplate much after reading, based on my previous experience with Douglas Coupland years ago. Picking up after the first several pages, which were a cliche depiction of lonely Liz Dunn, this was the case. However, the book inexcusably ended like Coupland needed to tidy up quickly and move on or else. I re-read the last pages, thinking maybe I'd fallen asleep and missed a transformation of events; I hadn't.
September 13, 2017
4.5-5 stars.
This is my second book from Coupland, and again, I loved it so much.
"Shampoo Planet" was slightly better to me, spoke to me more, but "Eleanor Rigby" is beautiful as well.
I feel like Bukowski and Coupland are 2 authors who go so well together, if I read one, I need to read the other soon after.
This book is about loneliness and, let's just say, it's depressing. But unlike Bukowski, this one's got a happy ending, so it makes a nice change, for once. Hhh
This is my second book from Coupland, and again, I loved it so much.
"Shampoo Planet" was slightly better to me, spoke to me more, but "Eleanor Rigby" is beautiful as well.
I feel like Bukowski and Coupland are 2 authors who go so well together, if I read one, I need to read the other soon after.
This book is about loneliness and, let's just say, it's depressing. But unlike Bukowski, this one's got a happy ending, so it makes a nice change, for once. Hhh
April 11, 2009
I found this book to be less than memorable. I don't see how anyone can find the characters in this book interesting, let alone compelling. Coupland needs to abandon the quest for "quirk" and try maybe writing something effective, or at least memorable.
July 28, 2008
I read this book at least once per year. It's not my favorite Coupland book, but it puts me in the mood to write.
October 11, 2018
I picked this book up used, it's dust jacket missing. So I knew nothing about the book or the author.
This was a different read for me. Not the kind of book i usually read. i liked the short snappy dialogue.
It's a fun, light, quirky read.
Never quite sure where it was going. So it was a nice break from heavier reading.
This was a different read for me. Not the kind of book i usually read. i liked the short snappy dialogue.
It's a fun, light, quirky read.
Never quite sure where it was going. So it was a nice break from heavier reading.
June 6, 2023
im so confused i’ve never felt more conflicted about a book this was technically bad in so many ways and yet also was so much more affecting than i expected it to be ?
def earns points for being weird enough to be memorable and generally compulsively readable
def earns points for being weird enough to be memorable and generally compulsively readable
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March 29, 2025I really liked this book. The characters are unusual but are still relatable. The story is funny, sad and bittersweet with a good dose of dark humour. If you want to read a story that is not run of the mill and is truly original I recommend this book.
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