Sally Rooney’s novels are known for their sharp prose and introspective characters, but a recurring theme that has sparked debate is her obsession with thinness. From the “unattractively jutting” hipbones of Frances in *Conversations With Friends* to the “narrow and delicate” frame of Marianne in *Normal People*, Rooney’s protagonists are consistently presented as thin and often described in a way that emphasizes their fragility.
Even in her latest novel, *Intermezzo*, while the author seems to broaden her conception of body types with references to “small and portly” forms, the narrative focus remains on characters who are slim. This consistent emphasis on thinness raises questions about Rooney’s intentions and whether this stylistic choice contributes to the perpetuation of societal biases surrounding body image.
Rooney’s characters are not merely thin, but often appear to be struggling with a lack of appetite or even hunger. Frances, for instance, is described as working through lunch and subsisting on black coffee, while Marianne survives on a “tangerine and a piece of unbuttered toast.” This emphasis on their seemingly limited food intake further reinforces the notion that thinness is linked to a certain kind of vulnerability and emotional fragility.
While Rooney’s characters are not explicitly glorified for their thinness, the constant attention paid to their slim frames and the way they are perceived by others, particularly men, suggests that thinness is a prerequisite for sensuality. Connell, for instance, is drawn to Marianne’s “small … and so open” body, and Felix, a bisexual character, admits to feeling attracted to women who need help opening a jam jar.
This recurring focus on thinness creates a distinct world within Rooney’s novels, one where the emotional landscapes of fat or even simply non-painfully-thin characters remain largely unexplored. The question arises: Is it possible for a character who doesn’t fit into this narrow definition of thinness to experience and express pain and vulnerability in Rooney’s world?
This isn’t to say that Rooney should be forced to include fat characters in her novels. However, the lack of representation and the emphasis on thinness as a defining characteristic, particularly when considered alongside the existing societal biases linking thinness with morality and fatness with negativity, raise concerns about the impact of Rooney’s stylistic choices.
The question remains: Where do fat people fit into Rooney’s vision of the world, a world often populated by characters who are able to disappear into their own bodies, into affairs, into BDSM, into friendships? Or, more to the point, where do we *not* fit? While novels are not obligated to mirror their readership, the lack of diverse representation in Rooney’s work, particularly in terms of body size, invites reflection on the limitations of her narrative universe and the potential impact of her stylistic choices on how we perceive and value different bodies.
