Hardcover, 320 pages
English language
Published July 11, 2017 by Faber & Faber, Hogarth.
Frances is twenty-one years old, cool-headed, and darkly observant. A college student and aspiring writer, she devotes herself to a life of the mind--and to the beautiful and endlessly self-possessed Bobbi, her best friend and comrade-in-arms. Lovers at school, the two young women now perform spoken-word poetry together in Dublin, where a journalist named Melissa spots their potential. Drawn into Melissa's orbit, Frances is reluctantly impressed by the older woman's sophisticated home and tall, handsome husband. Private property, Frances believes, is a cultural evil--and Nick, a bored actor who never quite lived up to his potential, looks like patriarchy made flesh. But however amusing their flirtation seems at first, it gives way to a strange intimacy neither of them expect. As Frances tries to keep her life in check, her relationships increasingly resist her control: with Nick, with her difficult and unhappy father, and finally even with Bobbi. Desperate to …
Frances is twenty-one years old, cool-headed, and darkly observant. A college student and aspiring writer, she devotes herself to a life of the mind--and to the beautiful and endlessly self-possessed Bobbi, her best friend and comrade-in-arms. Lovers at school, the two young women now perform spoken-word poetry together in Dublin, where a journalist named Melissa spots their potential. Drawn into Melissa's orbit, Frances is reluctantly impressed by the older woman's sophisticated home and tall, handsome husband. Private property, Frances believes, is a cultural evil--and Nick, a bored actor who never quite lived up to his potential, looks like patriarchy made flesh. But however amusing their flirtation seems at first, it gives way to a strange intimacy neither of them expect. As Frances tries to keep her life in check, her relationships increasingly resist her control: with Nick, with her difficult and unhappy father, and finally even with Bobbi. Desperate to reconcile herself to the desires and vulnerabilities of her body, Frances's intellectual certainties begin to yield to something new: a painful and disorienting way of living from moment to moment.
Written with gem-like precision and probing intelligence, “Conversations With Friends” is wonderfully alive to the pleasures and dangers of youth."
Truly a commentary on modern relationships. A delightful and thought-provoking story.
So I once again finished a Rooney novel and am once again a shell of a man. lol. I will now have to read or watch 2-3 mindless, slightly lighthearted, pieces, just to take my mind off this book.
This was a very similar experience to Normal People. I felt like I knew the characters personally - I have friends who are like that. Everything was so extremely real and precise. It was hot to touch and burned my fingertips. To summarize: It was horrible, but at the same time - wonderful. A very masochistic experience, but one that is precious.
College undergrads making bad decisions and having no plan for life, putting off adulthood in post-crash Dublin, sounds good to me. I enjoyed this book, there is some real conversation and introspection by the main character who is complex to say the least.
I enjoyed this menage-a-quatre despite a few short comings of the novel. Rooney is not a visual writer, doesn't describe places. I've never been to Dublin or France, so I just pictured Boston and Cape Cod, it was about the same. There were few colloquialisms in here, which is a good thing. There was a reference to the "tills" but I figured it out. Still there is not a strong sense of place.
The other two issues involve cliche - there is a mirror scene where the narrator looks at herself and describes herself to the reader. And there is the alcoholic Irish dad, the only thing …
College undergrads making bad decisions and having no plan for life, putting off adulthood in post-crash Dublin, sounds good to me. I enjoyed this book, there is some real conversation and introspection by the main character who is complex to say the least.
I enjoyed this menage-a-quatre despite a few short comings of the novel. Rooney is not a visual writer, doesn't describe places. I've never been to Dublin or France, so I just pictured Boston and Cape Cod, it was about the same. There were few colloquialisms in here, which is a good thing. There was a reference to the "tills" but I figured it out. Still there is not a strong sense of place.
The other two issues involve cliche - there is a mirror scene where the narrator looks at herself and describes herself to the reader. And there is the alcoholic Irish dad, the only thing slightly interesting is when he becomes paranoid.
Also Rooney doesn't put quotes around the dialogue. That wasn't a big deal because its still set off by commas: blah blah, I said, blah.
The ending was great, didn't expect it - Come and get it.
