Normal People

I think I don't like media with people who recognize that they don't feel good, but don't want to try and better their situation. It's hard to watch people make the same mistakes over and over again, to sacrifice their dreams and happiness, to cling to their suffering as if it makes them deeper or more artistically valid, rather than seeking help when it’s available. Maybe this uncomfortableness with this kind of content comes from my own life experiences and it is hard to watch happen again (and again and again throughout this book). As someone who has been to multiple therapists throughout my life, I understand mental health is complicated and just saying "get some help" is significantly harder than it can seem to people on the outside, especially if deep down you don't feel deserving of other people's help and overall attention. With all of that said, I think it is fair to say I just don't like this kind of media where these characters are flawed and hurting, but they never seem to get a moment of reprieve from their internal struggles that feels optimistic and the story ends with them still just as flawed and hurting.

"He can’t help Marianne, no matter what he does. There’s something frightening about her, some huge emptiness in the pit of her being. It’s like waiting for a lift to arrive and when the doors open nothing is there, just the terrible dark emptiness of the elevator shaft, on and on forever. She’s missing some primal instinct, self-defense or self-preservation, which makes other human beings comprehensible. You lean in expecting resistance, and everything just falls away in front of you."

I'd obviously heard a lot of buzz about this book over the years, and among my friends, mostly mixed things. Which made me more intrigued to pick it up, as I'd heard it was a pretty intense character study of two people and how their relationship manifests from childhood into young adulthood, constantly orbit each other in irregular (and sometimes toxic) ways. I ended up really loving this. The depth that Sally Rooney was able to develop Connell and Marianne was incredible. I loved the unique ways that they were both deeply flawed and broken, and instead of leaning on each other as a fix, they lean on each other as a source of unconditional love.

The pacing was slow at times, and I would buy the argument that some of the beats were repetitive (do we really need to head ANOTHER long winded story about how Marianne drunkenly fights with her current toxic boyfriend of the month?), but I didn't mind this detail. Rooney writes quite accessibly and don't let the other reviews dupe you into thinking the lack of quotes was off-putting. I got confused about it maybe twice in the whole book because the formatting makes the dialogue clear.

It might be silly to say about a book with such high praise, but I'd be hesitant to recommend this widely. For those who love plot, this isn't the book for you. While it wasn't aimless, it was absolutely hyper focused on character and relationship development. For people who adore lovable characters, I also wouldn't recommend this. The characters often act in brash, disagreeable ways, driven by emotion or with the intention to hurt. For me, that's great characterization, but I know it's not for everyone. There's a bit of light social commentary in here as well, Rooney dances around issues of injustice, wealth, and privilege, but don't expect any of this to be fully realized. She hits a bit harder on the topic of class disparity which I appreciated. But if you love learning about Ireland, this has some really cool detail on regional and cultural differences within the country!

Anyway, this was good. I'll probably have to take a beat to recover before I pick up anything else by the author, but I'd certainly continue to read her works.