A Series Of Contradictions: Conversations With Friends (Review)

Lily Holbrook

Written on a car journey through the winding Irish roads of county Clare, there couldn’t be a place more fitting (other than maybe Dublin) for me to write about a series based on the works of Sally Rooney.

An Anticipated Sequel

Following the pop culture phenomenon that was Normal People, Conversations With Friends tells a more complicated tale of the interwoven relations of 4 unlikely friends: 2 stars of the stage and literary spotlight (Nick and Melissa) and 2 poets with a complex romantic history (Frances and Bobbi).

Unlike the adaptation of Normal People which had me hooked before I had chance to pick up the novel, I’d read Conversations With Friends the summer before the TV series was released. Exploring themes from fragility and friendship to shame and sexuality, the series is an honest take on real-life reactions to unusual circumstances.

Much like Daisy Edgar-Jones & Paul Mescal in their captivating onscreen portrayal of Marianne & Connell, the chemistry between Alison Oliver and Sasha Lane in their personification of Bobbi and Frances is instantly apparent, hinting at a deep-rooted bond that far supersedes the superficial connection between Frances and Nick.

Untangling The Truth

Full of cinematic intricacies, the slow-moving scenes create enough space for the viewer to understand the inner thoughts of our characters, while maintaining a mystery that leaves us constantly speculating their next move. From late night texts to almost-silent car drives, the raw (and sometimes awkward) interactions between characters is a refreshing distraction from the demanding social expectations of everyday discourse.

“Despite her own manipulative behaviour as she seeks – intentionally or not – to drive a wedge between Nick and Melissa, the relationship only serves to exacerbate her vulnerability.”

Despite this, an inability to communicate truthfully with Bobbi and Nick follows Frances constantly, often substituted by misplaced physical affection. This comes primarily in the form of a web of tangled relations with Nick, by whom a naïve Frances is strung along. Despite her own manipulative behaviour as she seeks – intentionally or not – to drive a wedge between Nick and Melissa, the relationship only serves to exacerbate her vulnerability.

The Girl Next Door

Sitting in an Irish pub in the small town of Tuamgraney, I found myself looking for Rooney’s characters in my surroundings. I couldn’t help but see our waitress as a red-headed version of Frances, and, in that moment I felt an overwhelming desire to be more than a quarter Irish.

Despite struggling to see Melissa as anything other than the headteacher in Sex Education, I felt differently about Frances, despite her often painful attempts to speak openly about her emotions. While introspective and moody – and guided by a string of questionable morals – in writing her short story about Bobbi, I related a lot to her use of words as a coping mechanism.

“an ode to the ‘Waif Girls’ that appear to weave themselves so seamlessly”

Beyond the self-indulgence invested in her own creative and emotional outlets, Frances is a character deeply conflicted. The contradiction between her need for validation and the desire to remain self-sufficient is a constant battle as she closes herself off; both emotionally in her communication with Bobbi and Nick, and physically as she struggles with the crippling effects of endometriosis.

The juxtaposition of wanting to fall stereotypically in love & defy convention at the same time is a theme that plagues Frances – an ode to the ‘Waif Girls’ that appear to weave themselves so seamlessly – and somewhat controversially – throughout Rooney’s novels.