Bi Book Club: Conversations with Friends

Welcome back to the Bi Book Club! I only try to recommend bi books that enthralled me for one reason or another, and that was what happened with Sally Rooney’s 2016 debut novel, Conversations with Friends.

I learned a long time ago that if a book doesn’t catch my attention with something within the first fifty pages (100 pages for Russian novels because of translation and length issues), I gave it a fair shot and won’t get much better from that point. I feel like that’s a fair amount of time for something to intrigue me, but your mileage may vary. Needless to say, this one passed the test.

Before I go any further, I want to note that this review will contain some plot SPOILERS for the book. Don’t worry; I won’t destroy the entire narrative, but forewarned is forearmed.

Conversations with Friends focuses on the romantic lives of four Dubliners (I always think of James Joyce when I write that word). The protagonist, Frances, and her beautiful friend, Bobbi, are approached by photographer Melissa to write an essay about them after seeing their joint spoken poetry performance. The two college students begin to get more involved in the lives of Melissa and her husband, actor Nick. Each of them is fascinated with one of the spouses — Bobbi is nearly fixated on Melissa, and Frances and Nick quietly start an affair.

Okay, that’s all fine and good as far as plotting. But where does the bi-ness come in, you may ask? Well, in a rather nice approach, Frances and Bobbi discuss Frances being bi within the first twenty pages or so. Frances and Bobbi were partners in high school but seemed to have split amicably (their break-up is not really discussed much early on in the novel). And while Frances describes herself as a sexual “omnivore," Rooney has no problem using the term throughout the book.

Conversations with Friends quietly deals with some of the odder parts of being a queer baby — Frances trying to notify Nick that it will be the first time she has sex with a man, and Bobbi’s odd combination of defending the term “bisexual” when it’s used in a minimizing tone but also questioning Frances’ attraction to Nick. (Frances is hesitant to tell Bobbi about the affair, but Bobbi still picks up on his attraction to her.) These are steps that most anyone who has been out but starting to practice with multiple partners can recognize — the exploration, self-doubt, and curiosity are all there.

But there is so much more in this novel than Frances exploring her bi-ness. Since our protagonist is mostly an introvert, much of the content of the book is her form of internal observations — both about others she encounters and herself. She is much more perceptive than she gives herself credit for — she has a poet’s eyes, and that lends it to her sometimes dark reflections. Rooney uses a bold writing style, daring to rarely use actual quotations of conversations in a book that’s all about the talks we have with people in our lives. But at the same time, it’s rewarding because the style is accessible and keeps the pace going. 

Rooney and Frances are not afraid to explore the smallest of moments, in a wonderful dichotomy of a character sometimes reading too much into a head nod or a smile but an author knowing that sometimes a whole relationship or world can exist in the briefest of gestures. It’s a fascinating use of a type of dramatic irony. But maybe I pick up on that because I’m a good fifteen years older than the protagonist, so the author can play to an older audience while our young protagonist misinterprets some form of communication.

Speaking of communication, I really loved how Rooney seamlessly baked in conversations happening over different forms of social media as well as in-person conversations. Not only is this a fact of life for an Irish millennial — it just feels more authentic for a modern novel. At first, I thought it might not be realistic, but then I thought back to a few months ago when one of my good friends and I were having multiple conversations over both text and Instagram DMs at the same time. She laughed about that’s just how life is now — and she was right.

And yet all of these conventions still make for a relatable portrayal of a young, contemplative millennial woman and the heaving self-doubt she faces throughout the plot. Frances likes to think that she doesn’t have much of a personality, but her observations and humor speak against that. Maybe it is easier for her to justify that idea in order for her to cope with her own behaviors, but she is still a compelling figure in a book I simply could not put down.

Conversations with Friends is a perfect bi beach read. Now go grab this book, go find a beach, and dig into it this summer.