Nobody else's book club: Sally Rooney's Conversations with Friends

After you have read Conversations with Friends, I can recommend this professional review, but not before, because it retells the whole story in detail. Here is my humble review, with a lot less spoilers.

It is hard not to compare this book to Eimear McBride's The Lesser Bohemians. Both were written by young contemporary Irish female writers, both are romance novels in disguise that tell a love story between a young, virgin-to-begin-with, university student and an older man who is a relatively well known actor, both are first-person narratives. The Lesser Bohemians departs from standard romance novel mostly in its use of language and, despite its faults, its literary quality. Conversations with Friends goes a bit further by addressing a few absolutely forbidden subjects in standard romance. The main one being infidelity, the man in question is not only older, he is married. Oh my! There are other very modern and fashionable topics, such as open relationships and female bisexuality. There is also some current politics and everyone is fashionably corbynist (although they do not call themselves that because they are Irish not British), which translates to people who lead a very bourgeois lifestyle, enjoying the perks of money and high social status, and occasionally feeling guilty about it for the most shallow reasons and, in addition, who believe only in utopian, far-fetched solutions to social problems and hence can complacently do nothing to solve them and still feel quite morally superior about it. Let me, before continuing, clarify that being a fashionable corbynist does not mean being Corbyn himself. To be fair, we must agree, the man has more substance.

I am being a lot more acerbic about it than the book deserves. It is not that bad, it is not a bad book at all. I actually quite enjoyed reading it and read it in one go. The reason this post is being published two weeks later is only because it took me sometime to begin writing it. One thing I must say in favour of Sally Rooney is that she is extremely young (only in her mid-twenties) and it is quite an accomplishment to have written such a good book at this age. And we must absolutely forgive her for some naivete and shallowness, after all, who was not naive and unsubstantial at her age?

So what are the strong points of this book? Well, as I have stated before, I am always happy to read good quality romance. This one is no War and Peace, but it still possesses undeniable literary quality. Contrary to what the title suggests there is not more dialogue in it than is standard, and, despite what I have said above, I did enjoy the dialogue there is, even wished there was more, and the contemporary feeling it gives to the narration. Although I am sure, this will make it very outdated very soon, when readers forget the war in Syria, the problem of refugees and that people ever used email to start extra-conjugal relationships.

Another strong point about the book is exactly what I criticised so nastily above. These characters' faults, which make them so unlikeable in the end, are actually what makes them human and believable. Who does not lead a life that is often in opposition to his/her moral values and political beliefs? And who does not hold unsubstantiated moral values and political beliefs? And who does not lack self-awareness about them both? There is plenty of food for humbling thought here.

Another very strong point in the book is a certain lack of clarity. Which in my opinion is always a strong point in a good book. Considering this one has a heavy scent of autobiography, it is even more praiseworthy that the author resisted the temptation of making what she thinks about it all clearer. For example, sometimes its characters do, say or think such ridiculous things, we are left with the impression this has gone too far and the author is actually writing a moral critique of her social class and its clichés. But this is never clear, it could be just wishful thinking. Another example, and a very positive one if you compare it with McBride's aforementioned oeuvre, is that the author does very well resist the temptation of escaping the limitations of first-person narrative and letting us know what other characters besides the narrator think or feel. A good example of this is the motive behind the husband's decision to return to the conjugal bed. Why did he do it? Was it because he is a spineless coward and a pushover (aka a good, sensitive man) as stated in his wife's email to his lover? Is it because of the persistence of married love, which endures even after unforgivable hurt, even after the spouses have started to despise each other and love another? And is Rooney not too young to know about this? Is it for another reason only he knows and nobody else because, despite the title of the book, these characters talk very, very little about their inner lives to each other. As if words were too dangerous and can make them too vulnerable. Which is not surprising considering how sensitive and mean most characters in the book are, the wife and the narrator in particular.

In conclusion, this is a book which is well written, entertaining, provides some food for thought and leaves some open questions. Not too bad.

Next book: I am reading Saki's "Improper stories". A collection of satirical short stories by an Edwardian writer.

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