Normal People: How Time Changes Everything (And Nothing At All)

Sally Rooney’s critically acclaimed series explores first love not just as a fleeting moment, but as a lens through which we watch two people grow, change, and somehow stay fundamentally the same.

Daisy Edgar-Jones and Paul Mescal in Normal People (2020)

Normal People affected me unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s no wonder it’s one of my favourite series of all time. A beautiful coming-of-age drama, the series follows Connell and Marianne through their ever-changing relationship, from their secret beginning in a small Irish town to their university years in Dublin. What makes it special isn’t just the story — it’s how it tells that story.

There’s a scene that I feel encapsulates the entire series: Marianne and Connell meet at a college party as different people than they were in school, but years of change melt away when their eyes meet. She’s clearly more confident, and he’s more uncertain — yet when their gazes lock onto each other, they fall back into a dance they’ve known all their lives.

Characters That Evolve Yet Remain

Paul Mescal’s Connell and Daisy Edgar-Jones’ Marianne deliver exceptional performances that capture the delicate balance between growth and permanence. Connell transforms from popular athlete to unsettled university student, yet his emotional restraint remains unchanged throughout. Marianne evolves from alienated student to socially confident intellectual, while her deep-rooted wounds continue to shape her relationships.

I appreciate the use of silence in storytelling, and these two characters communicate through it masterfully. A change of breath, a fleeting glance, the way they hold each other. Body language has as much weight as dialogue. Through their characterisation, Rooney shows that though the years go by, our core natures often go unchanged.

The Spaces Between Words

I’m truly in awe of how Normal People explores how time changes everything and nothing all the same. Their mental bond drives the story forward — they connect in many ways both at school and at Trinity. Their social statuses change as the years go by, but it does not affect their understanding of each other.

Class division takes central importance in their journey. Connell’s working-class background and jock status gives him social advantages at school, but later fuel his imposter syndrome at university. Marianne’s wealth (surprisingly) isolates her at school but becomes irrelevant in academic settings, as is the case in our lives.

A Walk Through Time

The visual language elegantly captures the passage of time throughout the series, with deliberate choices that reflect the characters’ evolution:

• The lighting shifts with each time period.

• Locations change but certain spaces (like Connell’s car) don’t.

• The score evolves while maintaining its beautiful core.

• The camera work becomes more confident as the characters grow into theirs.

I cannot take credit for this revelation, but in my research, I came across how Ireland plays an interesting role with its unique connection to the characters. The shift from small-town Sligo to bustling-city Dublin mirrors their outward growth while highlighting what remains unchanged. The portrayal is authentic and shows how we simultaneously change and stay the same over the years.

These are all excellent stylistic choices that enhance the storytelling and our experience watching the show.

The Hope in Ambiguity

The ending, with its (somewhat frustrating) ambiguity, captures the paradox of time. It feels like we’re growing with Connell and Marianne, watching them go through life’s changes as they come of age. Yet we are left to imagine their futures on our own, a future that feels impossible to predict with certainty. Will they end up together? The series leaves clues to indicate that they can eventually end up back together. We’re left with hope, rather than answers.

So much happened in the story that lives rent-free in my mind. The characters were real; authentic and likeable. The pacing was superb and gave us enough time to care for the characters while giving us a story that spanned over several years. The stylistic choices — the score, the cinematography, the direction — made it easy for me to put myself into the character’s shoes.

It was subtle and clever. Modest in its portrayal. The vulnerability of the series breeds immersiveness, and I would be well pleased if Sally Rooney ever decided to give us a glimpse into their future through a well-crafted sequel.

Have you ever reconnected with someone after years apart, only to find your dynamic somewhat unchanged? The power of this series lies in showing us these constants in our lives — relationships that somehow exist partly beyond the barriers of time.