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On Great Writing

Marianne answers the door when Connell rings the bell. She's still wearing her school uniform, but she's taken off the sweater, so it's just the blouse and skirt, and she has no shoes on, only tights.

Oh, hey, he says.

Come on in.

She turns and walks down the hall. He follows her, closing the door behind him. Down a few steps in the kitchen, his mother Lorraine is peeling off a pair of rubber gloves. Marianne hops onto the countertop and picks up an open jar of chocolate spread, in which she has left a teaspoon.

Marianne was telling me you got your mock results today, Lorraine says.

We got English back, he says. They come back separately. Do you want to head on?

Lorraine folds the rubber gloves up neatly and replaces them below the sink. Then she starts unclipping her hair....



What to notice?

*The first sentence has metaphorical weight. Marianne will always answer the door when Connell rings the bell. This is a (painful, awkward) love story that will span many years.

*Connell pays close attention to Marianne's outfit in the first paragraph. If Connell is not consciously aware, yet, of his own attraction, at least the author is.

*There's so much tension in the dialogue. Lorraine--Connell's mother--is trying to make conversation by asking about the exam results. Connell responds in a maddening filial way by noting the *literal* content of Lorraine's observation, and not the *spiritual* content. He won't give her a chat. But he won't *say* that he won't give her a chat. How many times have you done this?

*Lorraine has weapons of her own. She knows that Connell is anxious to leave. But, instead of acknowledging his (loaded) question, she starts folding up her rubber gloves and unclipping her hair. ("To Connell this seems like something she could accomplish in the car.") Delightful.

*Reading Sally Rooney, you might think of Thornton Wilder, and his observation about "poets and saints" noticing things other people don't notice. That's what you get in Rooney--page after page. No showing off. Just "lucid and authoritative" writing about the currents churning underneath our interactions. Really dazzling--and helpful to me in a stressful period of the school year.

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