Normal People Is Just That: Normal

photo: www. Amazon.com

Contrary to what the cover implies, this book is not about two people embracing in a cold sardine can that looks terribly uncomfortable, nor does it convey vaguely threatening, cannibalistic ideas (which is what I feel when I look at this).

No, this is a love story. Clear and simple. And I don't like love stories, or I don't gravitate towards them. If a nice little love triangle appears in a book I'm reading, well fine, I'll probably enjoy it, but the romance usually isn't the focal point of the novel's big idea. I'm never browsing a bookstore and go, "Oh! A love story! Let me absolutely read that!"

Let me be clear: there's nothing wrong with love stories, or liking them, it's just that I personally am too jaded to enjoy them. They always seem contrived, or cliched, or wholly unimaginative.

But I thought I'd give Normal People by Sally Rooney a try. This novel follows two Irish high schoolers, Connell and Marianne, as they grow up, move to college, and enter a complicated relationship/friendship that spans years.

In high school, Connell is smart and popular, while Marianne, equally smart but also rich and "odd," is labelled an outcast, a weirdo. When Connell's mother begins cleaning Marianne's house, though, Connell and Marianne begin a clandestine relationship. But the secret becomes too much, and they drift apart.

When Connell and Marianne find themselves at the same college, this time their roles are reversed. Marianne is popular and outgoing, and Connell's shyness, which didn't really affect him in high school, makes it hard for him to find friends. They bump into each other at a party, and their relationship resumes, albeit with some rocky starts.

Through the years, Connell and Marianne revolve around each other, never quite colliding, never drifting too far without being pulled back to each other. This book examines the boundaries of love and friendship, class, growing up, and abusive relationships, while staying a perfectly digestible piece of literature.

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The reviews and critical acclaim have been stunning, so perhaps it's just me and my failed relationship with romance novels, but I wasn't too fond of this little book.

The ending, at first glance, is terribly cliche and rather like the ending of any college AU fanfiction I've happened to stumble across. It's a predictable conclusion to a romance trajectory. However, because of Marianne's personality, there's something heavy in her final words that gives depth, and maybe, just maybe, subverts the cliche. The implication of Marianne's words is quite depressing: She will always be the same, she will never change nor leave.

This little twist, though, was not nearly enough to make me like this book. I didn't hate it, and if you like prolonged angsty love stories you'll probably enjoy it. I just felt lukewarm the whole time. I never particularly cared for Connell, Marianne, or any of the other characters except maybe Lorraine, Connell's mother. A lot of the relationship dynamics between Marianne and her family were also undeveloped or simply left unstated.

In all, I guess I just felt meh, so why did I even read it?

4/10 📕

(Because it was long-listed for the Man Booker, that's why. Sigh.)