Book Review: Conversations with Friends

This is the first book of the year I completely devoured and, as such, is an early contender for one of the best books of the year. I have always loved Sally Rooney’s books after the earth-shattering Normal People. There is just something about Rooney’s prose that puts the reader under a spell. It is raw, romantic - verging almost on the sublime.

The self-centred poetic, sexually and politically ambiguous Frances falls for the married Nick after his wife Melissa becomes intrigued with her and Bobbi at a poetry reading. The entire book is from her perspective - so we are unsure if she is a reliable narrator from the offset. Her prose and narrative are very self-contained, she doesn't always observe the effect her words and actions have on those around her. Nor can we say she accurately depicts the reactions of those in her social sphere. Frances begins an affair with Nick, who is troubled, lost, and, as many describe, passive. His mental health is frequently referred to. I wouldn’t say it makes him less of a man, but it sets to redefine manhood and what is considered the strong or the weak male archetype.

One of the main takeaways from this book is, what constitutes a relationship? Is it possible for you to love more than one person? Humans are intrinsically messy people - no one in this book takes the moral high ground as they aren’t always likeable. Frances uses Bobbi as cannon fodder for a story; Melissa had an affair with Nick's best friend when he was in a deep depression, and Bobbi enjoys the discomfort of those around her with her anarchistic diaphanous views. Or can we chalk this up to the folly of youth? I guess you could argue that Sally Rooney's characters are real representations of ‘what it means to be human’ rather than the idealised versions of humans, where the moral lines are far more black and white than Rooney’s spectrum of grey. Take, for example, Melissa feeling betrayed about Nick’s affair. She arguably has no right to feel betrayed, but she is human and does care - deeply. Humans are bizarre and messy creatures - do take pity on us.

Lastly, there is a lot to be said about what is not said in the book. As mentioned earlier, we gauge everything from Frances’ point of view, and we hear mostly her thoughts throughout, as well as her interpretations of unilateral conversations and ideas of other characters. Reading between the lines of what Frances does not say or share tells us much more about her than I think she lets on. Her arguments with Nick seem surprising, but his anger is more illuminating to how she treats people.

I’m looking forward to watching the BBC adaptation of this book and gauging how the actors interpret their characters through the eyes of a self-centred young woman. But ultimately, a subliminally written book, I have high hopes for the series.