‘Normal People’ by Sally Rooney – if I could erase one book from my memory and read it again as if for the very first time, it would be this one

Despite the title of this article, I would sell my right arm if it meant going back in time and snatching this book right out of my hands – permanently. Normal People is an exhausting read from start to finish and on numerous occasions I found myself sighing and slamming the book shut before even reaching the end of certain pages. The characters were immensely trusting to follow and the lack of quotation marks and drastic shifts in time all but contributed to the book’s greatly unfulfilling ending. 

And yet, this is what makes Normal People such a beautiful book. I would give everything to be able to read it again for the first time. The majority of coming-of-age books glorify and eulogise young love. This imaginary and formulaic step-by-step guide to romance in YA novels is inescapable and haunts my Goodreads app.

“Having said that, it’s clear that Sally Rooney has destroyed this guide, alongside my heart, to encapsulate anguish like no other”

Having said that, it’s clear that Sally Rooney has destroyed this guide, alongside my heart, to encapsulate anguish like no other. This novel captures irony in the most painful yet masterful way, and that’s what I think makes it so remarkable. 

Even the title itself, Normal People, is sheer irony. Connell and Marianne only feel like “normal people” when they are in each other’s company, otherwise, they feel alienated in their own skin. Connell’s visceral fixation on how he’s perceived battles against Marianne’s sorrowful lack of a second skin, and ultimately leads to a pyrrhic victory for both parties and consequently a big fat slap across my face. Their entire relationship was built on, and destroyed by, miscommunication. I’m still haunted by the ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ of what could have been, had they been capable of some basic-level human communication. But that’s what makes their relationship so real and so raw. 

One of my favourite literary techniques is when the author alternates each chapter between the characters (it really adds to the depressing miscommunication trope). In alternating between the perspectives of Connell and Marianne, there’s an evident swap in stature between the two. It becomes abundantly clear that for either Connell or Marianne to be happy, the other must endure misery, and likewise myself as I continue reading. Rooney so cleverly crafts this distinct battle to such an extent that I feel I am being dragged through the trenches with them. 

“Rooney manages to showcase Marianne and Connell in such a painstakingly human way all whilst grappling with larger themes of class, suicide, depression, and the impact of societal expectations on individual identity”

Rooney manages to showcase Marianne and Connell in such a painstakingly human way all whilst grappling with larger themes of class, suicide, depression, and the impact of societal expectations on individual identity. Rooney’s ability to uncover the vulnerability of Connell’s character beautifully breaks down the damaging societal archetype of the strong and silent man. And I think that this quote “Marianne had the sense that her real life was happening somewhere very far away, happening without her, and she didn’t know if she would ever find out where it was or become a part of it” speaks for itself.

“I love how although the characters remain at the forefront of the narrative, their trajectories don’t ever shy away from the harsh consequences of life”

I love how although the characters remain at the forefront of the narrative, their trajectories don’t ever shy away from the harsh consequences of life. To be able to navigate these themes without ever veering into didacticism, is what makes Rooney one of my favourite authors. Her use of casual cruelty and humiliating depictions of what it means to be young, naive and in love were often excruciating to read; this, combined with the lack of quotation marks, created a somewhat messy and frustrating read, which I think perfectly parallels the messy and frustrating reality of their relationship. From the moment they embarked on their clandestine love affair, their lives were painfully intertwined, and mine with these characters. And, like a primal call and response, there’s no Marianne without Connell, and there’s no Connell without Marianne; making the ambiguous ending of the novel, to put it lightly, soul-destroying.  

To me, there’s nothing normal about Normal People, and despite the trauma, I’d give anything to be able to read it again for the first time. If I could erase one book from my memory and read it again as if for the very first time, it would be this one – Normal People by Sally Rooney.