Friday, February 4, 2022

Review of Normal People by Sally Rooney

What is it about books that win or are nominated for prestigious awards that gets our critic radars spinning twice as fast. If I see a stamp of approval on a novel's cover, my brain seems to double-down on the critique. Seeing Sally Rooney's 2018 novel Normal People had the words “Man Booker” on it, as well as its potentially pretentious title, the radar started whirring.

Normal People is the very personal stories of Connell and Marianne. Pride and Prejudice flipped on its head (aka Lady and the Tramp), Connell is from the blue-collar family, while Marianne the white. Meeting in secondary school in a relatively small Irish county, the two sublimely hit it off. Despite differences in their families, their relationship quickly becomes sexual without either really knowing how or why. In the years that follow, through university and beyond, the pair have an on-again, off-again relationship, a magnet seeming to always draw them back together despite their social or relationship statuses. Something has to eventually give, or does it?

In its bones, Normal People is a melancholy romance, no more, no less. Peppered throughout the monotone authorial voice recounting the lives and situation of the two are classic—and I mean classic—rom-com scenes. The quotidian 'I love you' scene. The coincidental, run-in-to-each-other-at-a-party scene. The male character is emotionally sensitive and open to change, such that he understands the woman and accepts her for who she is while upgrading his own behavior and words according to her needs (the foundation of practically every rom-com denouement ever). And yes, there is the one where the hero punches the bad guy to protect the girl. The only thing separating Normal People from a Jennifer Aniston movie is the mood.

And mood is where Normal People wins points. Rooney nails a deadpan 'This is this, and this is this, and that is...' form of direct diction. It gives the reader bare facts, and lets them fill in the empty space with their own thoughts, emotions, and imagination. Striking that wonderful balance between too little and just enough, Normal People is a winner in terms of style.

In physical and mental terms, Normal People is an intimate novel. Rooney spends most of the time inside Marianne and Connell's heads and hearts. From the mundane details of everyday life to confronting major milestones of existence, the reader is provided a front row seat to two people trying to handle a “normal relationship”. Line by line and scene by scene, Normal People is written such as to provide the opportunity for an affected experience. Despite the cheapness of the overarching plot, scene by scene the novel works extremely well—and I daresay is likely the reason the novel has won the acclaim it has.

And the title, oh, the title. It's ambitious... “Normal People” creates the expectation the characters inside the book are somehow representative of humanity—as if the majority of Connel and Marianne's characters fit a standard baseline. While reading, I oscillated back and forth like a lover plucking the petals from a daisy—“Baseline, not baseline, baseline, not...”. The last petal proved to be “not baseline”. The characters are simply too intelligent and sensitive to be symbols of the masses I see in effect. Connell is a top academic and creative success—something which we know to be a minority in society. Marianne comes from a the upper class—a minority by default. “Ordinary” seems a better term than “normal”.

In the end, Normal People is a novel attempting to confront the thoughts, emotions, and social states which populate the seas separating our islands of existence. By presenting the struggles of two ordinary people sailing these seas, Rooney offers the reader a chunk of reality, heavily focused on romantic relationships. Whether the two are representative of 'normal humanity' will be up to the reader, just as how much the book is a Jennifer Aniston rom-com vs. a subtle personal and emotional take on relationships. All I can say is I am still doubting the Man Booker on the title. Aniston, after all, I don't believe has won a BAFTA... <radar whirring down>

No comments:

Post a Comment