The Celebrants

Rowley emphasizes that the group friendship shared by the characters in The Celebrants is characterized by a paradoxical mixture of intimacy and disconnection. Early in the text, Naomi directly connects friendship to a familial relationship dynamic: “‘How often do you see your parents? […].’ […] For better or worse, their reliance on their found family had now eclipsed any dependence on their own” (42). The idea of “found family” supplanting biological family is prevalent throughout the novel, particularly with Craig having been given up by his parents and having found friendship as a replacement and Naomi’s process of relying on her friends in the wake of her parents’ deaths. By representing both closeness and growing apart, Rowley represents the familial complexity of intimate, long-term friendships.

Rowley emphasizes the contrast between how close the characters were when they were roommates and how detached certain aspects of their lives have become now that they have separate existences: “They used to be so close they all knew what the other ate for lunch. Now [Craig] couldn’t even recall the name of Marielle’s daughter; in fact, he barely remembered she had a kid at all” (109). This passage juxtaposes the intimacy of knowing banal details of each other’s lives and the detachment suggested by not knowing a crucial detail of a close friend’s family. However, Rowley complicates this representation further due to the fact that, while he doesn’t know Marielle’s daughter or remember her name, Craig is in fact her biological father. Like familial relationships, then, Rowley suggests that close friendships can be complex and marked by contradictions.

The changes to friendship in the novel are also closely connected to the passage of time. Jordan addresses this paradox and the idea that crucial actions can outweigh day-to-day detachment when he observes that “[w]e dropped everything to fly three thousand miles, all of us, after not having seen each other in years, to honor a pact we made as kids” (97). The reference to their having formed the pact as kids emphasizes that their collective promise holds firm. Rowley also suggests that true friendship is characterized by being there for a friend in the important moments, but that this doesn’t always correspond to day-to-day support.

Rowley characterizes the intimacy among the group members as both physical and enduring: “[T]heir bodies found each other like they had in college […]. It was the kind of intimacy between friends who had spent years living together, where the only solid borders between them were the occasional locked dormitory door” (97-98). The comparison of the “door” as more “solid” than the borders of the body emphasizes the intensity of the intimacy. While their friendship has changed over time, the narrative represents the ways in which the friends can pick up where they left off. Rowley therefore represents a complex and familial version of friendship that persists despite distance and time elapsed between interactions.

Rowley addresses how personal identity can originate in relationships and interactions with others throughout The Celebrants. In each funeral, the recipient finds that their identity is confirmed by the words and actions of their friends. Rowley represents the idea of identity originating in others in both a negative sense—when characters are negatively defined or their own identities are subsumed by their relationships—and in a positive sense: when characters are affirmed and uplifted by their friends.

In the negative sense, both Marielle and Naomi lose themselves in their relationships. Marielle’s roles as a wife and mother take over who she is, and it is only the words of her friends during her funeral that provide her the space to rediscover her own identity. She sees the funeral as “[a] reminder that after raising a daughter near to adulthood, it was okay to indulge in finding her own identity again” (124). Both senses of Marielle’s identity—mother and wife—originate outside herself, but her friends’ actions give her “permission” to reclaim her own identity as opposed to having an identity imposed on her. Similarly, Naomi spends much of her life trying to achieve the ultimately impossible task of inspiring her parents’ pride. Like Marielle, she eventually sheds this role and finds her identity in part through her friendships. She exclaims, “I have you to remind me who I am” (176). Rowley therefore addresses the idea that selfhood can’t exist in a vacuum, and even though identity is personal, it sometimes requires the assistance of close friends.

Jordy’s sense of identity in relation to Jordan’s terminal illness is a particularly complex example of identity originating in self as opposed to others. Their relationship is such a defining factor in their lives that they become known as “the Jordans” rather than as individuals. When they argue, Jordy expresses how closely related their shared identity is to his feelings on his partner’s impending death: He wonders if “there [is] a part of [himself] that is excited to be Jordy again and not half of the Jordans? […] To maybe even be Jordan again?” (263). Jordy’s statement encapsulates both the positive and negative aspects of identity that originates outside the self. His relationship with Jordan is a defining and positive factor of his identity, which contributes to his grief, but he has also become lost in it to an extent. He expresses the idea that part of him looks forward to the reclamation of identity that is only his. Rowley therefore suggests that a balance is needed between identity originating in the self and others.