Beautiful World, Where Are You by Sally Rooney
Ah, the Em Turning Paiges debut review. And my cousin refused to finish the book. Great start!
Find Paige’s post on the subject here.
I understand why she hated it. I can genuinely see both sides. But this is my website, and it’s my turn to talk.
Sally Rooney has an absolutely treacherous disregard for dialogue rules. For written story rules, really. And I love that about her. Her apparent allergy to quotation marks puts my lazy little brain into overdrive, having to really pay attention—it is a constant, careful task to hold onto my bearings. I enjoyed the extra engagement. I couldn’t get away with passively reading, as it became a more difficult task than the initial endeavor.
No quotation marks is only the beginning. Paige noted that the characters are dry, and the dialogue uninteresting. She’s not wrong, per se, I just wasn’t put off by that. I enjoyed the honesty—the authenticity of the described human experience. The characters were very normal people (no surprises here considering Ms. Rooney’s resume)—perhaps too normal. Perhaps off-puttingly normal? The dialogue was rolling and often came in the form of streamed consciousness carrying over page after page, both in email correspondence as well as character-to-character. There were substantial bouts of self-consciousness from each speaker, vulnerability presented almost painfully.
Reading as an escape from reality doesn’t necessarily work here, but the relief I found was in the relatability—I felt better about my habitual overthinking, and all the out-loud word vomits I’ve had over the years. Mostly because Alice’s were all way worse (hahaha).
If I’m trying to find something wrong, maybe it’s a bit annoying that characters as gorgeous and privileged as these (at least three of the four), spend most of their time complaining about how hard their lives are. But there’s an entire discourse to be had about each of their mental healths, and how therapy would probably help a lot.
But that’s all of us, I presume.
Storytelling is formulaic; creative writing comes with a set of basic rules that you’re supposed to respect, no matter what, especially if you want your name on the cover of a bestseller. Sally Rooney challenges that sentiment, and does exactly what she wants without apology (while still raking in the awards). Slightly abstract, focused on the intrinsically mundane, but to me, mirroring the human experience with an impressive commitment.
