Gráinne Sexton finds comfort in nostalgia for Trinity life
Watching Normal People is making me nostalgic for my carefree student life at Trinity
When I first began writing this diary, I mentally committed to highlighting the most uplifting elements of life under lockdown. Although the Covid-19 outbreak meant I was forced to suddenly leave Dublin, move home to Cork and finish the penultimate year of my degree without access to the library or other academic supports, I attempted as best I could to salvage some good from the situation.
Having never spent more than a month at home since the summer after my Leaving Cert, I relished time spent with family, taking comfort in the certainty that accompanied familiar traditions. The loss of structure was initially difficult to deal with, but I eventually managed to create some semblance of routine. I tried to find solace in the simple aspects of daily life — pottering about the house, taking afternoon walks, listening to the birds.
Over the past eight weeks, I have devoted myself to extracting all that is positive from a frightening, wearisome and unprecedented public health crisis. The government’s recently launched roadmap for lifting lockdown, however, indicates that a return to ‘normality’ will take months to come to fruition. I will admit that accepting the reality of our new normal has dealt a soft blow to my initial optimism. Up until this point, I’ve kept busy with studying and research, busily writing essays and preparing for online exams. Focusing on assignments has imposed order on my days, providing a sort of fulcrum around which my afternoons revolve and enabling me to feel as if I am trudging forward. Now, as the academic year draws to a close, I feel an acute sense of mourning for student life.
Trinity announced last week that all large lectures will move online until January 2021. I expect that other third-level institutions will soon follow suit, publicising changes to various ways of operating and restructuring lectures and seminars to enable social distancing.
Throughout quarantine thus far, I’ve clung to the possibility of returning to Dublin in September. In the moments I’ve felt overwhelmed or alone, I’ve imagined the joy of reuniting with my friends, of attending classes, of spending hours ensconced in the library. I now realise the fragility of my daily imaginings and aspirations, how futile it is to plan or project ahead. Coming to terms with the unpredictability that accompanies living through a global pandemic has presented me with the greatest challenge of lockdown to date. And although I am still looking in earnest for silver linings, I am increasingly aware of how difficult and distressing the current situation is.
Before all of this, when confronted with challenges or crises, I often turned to reading for relief. Books were my ultimate escape, the most effective means of retreating from reality and emerging, several pages later, refreshed and ready to take on the world. The Covid-19 crisis has rendered my concentration span short, however, and my abilities to read for pleasure are therefore limited. I’ve turned to television instead, becoming invested in imaginary storylines and well-written plots.
It may come as no surprise that Lenny Abrahamson’s adaptation of Normal People, currently showing on RTÉ, has provided a welcome distraction. Based on Sally Rooney’s novel of the same title, the show depicts the lives of two young people as they navigate the complexities of
‘I desperately miss the experience of attending university, as well as the social interaction it brings’
entering adulthood, moving away from home and beginning university. The series touches on numerous themes: love, power, social class, mental health, communication, vulnerability; each of which are powerfully portrayed and carefully explored. I am most drawn to Normal People, however, for its cinematography — the depiction of ordinary lives in a visually stunning manner. At a time when my world has shrunk to encompass only the family home, the show acts as a catalyst for my memories of Trinity. Its tender representation of everyday actions — walking through a crowd, touching other people, sitting in the pub, studying in the library — has led me to realise how much I took for granted, the variety and dynamism of life before Covid-19.
During this stage of our national shutdown, one in which I find myself struggling to remain optimistic, Normal People has foisted nostalgia upon me. Although I desperately miss the experience of attending university, as well as the social interaction it brings, I’ve come to feel immense gratitude for the way life was before. I shan’t ever again take for granted the privilege of freely moving through Dublin city or hugging my friends or dancing at parties. Until I get back to Trinity, I’ll keep immersing myself in the world of Normal People. Nostalgia, it seems, is a necessary antidote to my various quarantine conundrums.