The Whole Darn Thing
Without spoiling a major plot revelation, let it be understood that the entire narrative is constructed as an act of irony. The relationship between Eleanor and Mummy and the centerpiece of this irony. In an effort to avoid spoiling a major plot development for those have yet to read it, it will only be explained that a re-re-reading of the novel a second time transforms this ironic element which is invisible in a first reading into a major perceptual overhaul upon a second reading.
Maybe Just a Small Hint
As opposed to the pervasive irony described above, an example of a singular moment of irony in the novel is actually drawn attention to by Eleanor in her narration. Raymond may be unaware of its presence, but she is most certainly not and, as a result, neither is the reader:
“Nice night, eh?” say Raymond, loitering unnoticed in the shadows and, just for a change, puffing on a cigarette…“I came out for some fresh air,” he said, without a hint of irony.
Polly
Eleanor talks to herself as in actually opening her mouth and speaking rather than merely holding a conversation in her head. She excuses this quirk from its inherent assumption by others of a sign of someone in mental distress by explaining that she is actually speaking to “Polly.” Polly, of course, is the bird equivalent of “Rover” for dogs: that name which is always used in fictional stories but which hardly anyone you know has ever used. The irony, however, is that Polly is not a bird at all, but a plant. Even more ironic: Polly is not just a plant, but Congo cockatoo plant.
But wait, there’s even further irony: this plant is actually so vibrantly colored and shaped that if one were only to look engage it with it from the corner of their eye, it could actually look pretty much like a parrot or cockatoo. And, of course, the final irony: it really doesn’t matter whether one talks to an cockatoo or a Congo cockatoo plant since neither is going to actually talk back.
Orpheus or Arsepheus?
In a book filled with tragic irony, one of the most the heartbreaking is Eleanor’s infused fantasy of Johnnie Lomond as having the soul of a poet, the voice of an angel, and the personality of an interesting human being. The imagery she uses to describe him when she cannot actually see him is later put into cruelly ironic juxtaposition with reality the moment he bares his behind and moons his audience:
“a voice to cast spells, charm snakes, shape the course of dreams…my handsome Orpheus!”
“I realized with uncompromising clarity that the man onstage before me was, without any doubt, an arse.”
Is Eleanor Really Fine?
All the ironic content of the novel begins with its title. Although the book was almost instantly embraced as an iconic example of the burgeoning newly created genre known as “Up Lit” due to its promise of a happy ending for Eleanor resulting from the turn of events which take place, the happy ending is not related to the title. At least, not sincerely. Eleanor engages in psychological denial throughout the story and long before the revelation which releases her from the bondage of her repression, she is reiterating to anyone who will listen that she perfectly fine. That she is not nearly so is indicative of the irony.
