Eleanor is a character mired in isolation when the novel begins. In the narration, she accepts her solitude as inevitable and unchangeable, although her early fixation on Johnnie exposes her thirst for human connection. The moment her illusions about him shatter, she reveals an underlying depression and sense of worthlessness fed by loneliness. After Johnnie’s concert, she meditates on the scourge of loneliness in the modern era:

These days, loneliness is the new cancer—a shameful, embarrassing thing, brought upon yourself in some obscure way. A fearful, incurable thing, so horrifying that you dare not mention it; other people don’t want to hear the word spoken aloud for fear that they might too be afflicted, or that it might tempt fate into visiting a similar horror upon them (227).

Not only is loneliness toxic, but it is, Honeyman suggests, a self-perpetuating force once it has overtaken someone. Her sentiments underline the deep damage—indeed, the real dangers—of social isolation.

Eleanor learned to isolate early as a result of childhood trauma. Eleanor’s Mummy conditioned her daughter not only to avoid others but to judge and fear them. Moreover, her sister’s death convinced Eleanor that love comes at too high a price to maintain close relationships: “I had decided, years ago, that if the choice was between that or flying solo, then I’d fly solo.