Normal People

Last week I went into the library to return Anne Tyler’s Dinner at The Homesick Restaurant (I loved her A Spool of Blue Thread, but didn’t get on with this one), when I saw a book that I’ve had my eye on for a while: Normal People by Sally Rooney. Now, I’m guilty of reading a lot about books without actually reading them. I regularly check those Guardian features where authors recommend holiday reads. (I have no idea how long these vacations last, as typically they choose the kind of obese tomes that Ryanair would charge an extra seat for.) Usually, I just scroll down to authors I like, who aren’t pretentious, and read what they have to say. Normal People is the book that most people seem to be talking about. I’d read Rooney’s previous Conversations With Friends, which topped many end of year lists; a work I enjoyed without completely falling for. But this one seemed more mature with Rooney herself even acknowledging her first was in some ways a ‘trial novel’ that gave her room to experiment and grow.

Her first novel.

I had only a week to finish Normal People (it’s a ‘Hot Pick,’ which means it self-destructs into a library fine unless you dispose of it fast), and it’s a testament to the writing that I did. The book revolves around two characters, Marianne, a loner in school, who lives in a big house in the country; and Connell, a popular kid in the same school, whose mother works as a cleaner in Marianne’s house. At school the two never cross paths: Marianne evades company- her claim? she is above it, too bright for it - the reality you feel is different; meanwhile, Connell doesn’t so much embrace crowds, but accepts them, recognising the status and security they give him. When he goes to pick up his mum from work, the hierarchical lines break down between Marianne and him. He’s disarmed by her intellect and flirtation. So far I appreciate this sounds like a John Hughes movie: boy from the wrong side of the tracks meets girl who owns the station – or something like that. But it never succumbs to cliché. This is because Rooney never concedes to caricature. Connell isn’t the working class hero: he keeps Marianne at arms-length in school, afraid that she’ll infect his reputation; Marianne isn’t a middle-class snob: she values Connell’s intellect, regarding him her superior. There’s a naturalness to the dialogue too that give the work its verisimilitude. Sure, some moments give rise to humour, but nothing is telegraphed, scenes aren't contrived into set-pieces.

As well as the dialogue and characterisation, Rooney has a way with structure. The novel is shaped into a series of vignettes, where we drop in and out of the characters lives. One chapter might move us on five months, another five minutes. What’s clever is how Rooney handles this. Amidst the scene being described, she invokes flashback to fill in the blanks. A precursor to this approach is David Nicholls’ One Day; like that work, the form enhances the story without becoming it. We’re locked in rooms with these characters and then thrown out at the end of each chapter; consequently, we’re desperate to find out what happened while we were away: how are you? where have you been? we were worried about you.

A similar structure.

Because both characters are bright, they’re accepted into Dublin University. They have left the country and joined the city. Untethered from everything he knows, Connell struggles to adapt. Free from past traumas, Marianne prospers. The roles have reversed, and now Connell needs a friend. Later in the novel, Connell explains his position, 

I just feel like I left Carricklea thinking I could have a different life, he says. But I hate it here, and now I can never go back there again. 

(Why haven’t I used speech marks here? Rooney doesn’t use them. There's no punctuation to distinguish between dialogue and narration, meaning you have to pay attention.) Connell’s words remind me of how I initially felt at uni. I thought doing my English degree would allow me to meet people like me. In time I realised that a course isn’t a personality. Just because someone reads doesn’t make them nice. So often students are sold ‘The University Dream’ of “Meeting Your People.” The reality can be quite different. Some universities are middle class to the extreme. In a dress code of pashminas and chinos, poorer students can feel excluded, barred entry.  

How great are her front covers?

Despite orbiting around one another at college, there exists a pull between the two. Just as they seem to fall into alignment, something happens that sends them on different paths. This never feels like romcom territory. The reason the two struggle to be together is messy, rooted in class ignorance and psychosexual kinks. For all of this, there are moments of real beauty when the two are joined, with Rooney demonstrating an uncanny knack for choosing exactly the right description.

He holds her tightly. His body adjusting itself to hers like the kind of mattress that’s supposedly good for you.

How often would you hear a simile like that? The figurative of the domestic. It’s the kind of line John Cooper Clarke would write.

Connell and Marianne mightn’t endure as characters like Dexter and Emma in One Day – they’re not larger than life; rather life itself. I thoroughly enjoyed Normal People. A literary work that normal people can enjoy. An intelligent book that can be read in a day - how novel.

Normal People is available now.