I’ve only reread two books in my life: “Divergent” by Veronica Roth and “Conversations with Friends” by Sally Rooney. The former, a self-proclaimed classic from elementary school that kick-started my love of reading, and the latter, my favorite book that I reread in anticipation of its television adaptation. So when Rooney announced her fourth book, “Intermezzo,” I set a reminder for the release day and ran to the Strand Bookstore during the one-hour window between classes and my shift at WSN. In the least dramatic way possible, it felt like Christmas.
“Intermezzo” follows 32-year-old Peter and 22-year-old Ivan as the brothers adjust to life in the aftermath of their father’s death. It focuses on Peter’s relationships with two women — the college-aged Naomi and his first love, soulmate and ex, Sylvia — along with Ivan’s relationship with 36-year-old Margaret. Peter works in Dublin as a lawyer, and Ivan does freelance work in data analysis to get by while traveling around the country competing in chess tournaments. At one of these tournaments, he meets art director Margaret, a kind woman going through a divorce with her alcoholic husband. Peter balances his affection for Naomi, who always seems to be getting into trouble, with Sylvia, who constantly rejects him despite declaring their mutual love for one another. Seems confusing? The chaos is classic Rooney.
Immediately on the first page, you’re swallowed into Rooney’s distinct writing style. When the novel is told from Peter’s perspective, most sentences seem to be missing a “he” or “the” at the start — seemingly unfinished, but it works. It takes a minute to get into the groove of the syntax, but taking these risks is what makes Rooney stand out. The other two perspectives, Ivan’s and Margaret’s, don’t have this same abrupt, blunt nature, but this contrast adds to Peter’s perspective as a whole. His mind is all over the place, and thus, so is his narration.
Where Rooney continues to shine is in her characterization — her ability to create such distinct flaws and traits one wouldn’t even think to mention. It’s impossible to write about this and not mention Ivan’s braces. Did I need to be constantly reminded in almost every intimate scene that 22-year-old Ivan was waiting to get his braces off? No, and while a part of me wishes I never had to think of it, I understand the intent. It expresses his naivety, the same way Peter constantly aiding Naomi expresses his want for power and control, all of which add depth to the characters where the otherwise stagnant plot does not.
What makes Rooney stand out beyond her characterization is her dialogue. It’s as if she followed these people for months, recorded their conversations and put the words to page. She convincingly writes like a college student, with phrases like “That’s fucked up about your dad,” and is fluent in Ivan’s candid and forward questions. To a writer, it’s admirable. To a reader, its fluidity on the page is unnoticeable. And no, not because of her signature lack of quotation marks — the dialogue and inner narration carry equal importance yet distinct writing styles. But instead, this fluidity is a marker of her talent.
At 464 pages, “Intermezzo” is far longer than any of Rooney’s earlier books. I can see why — in this novel, much more than the others, the characters spend their perspectives separate from one another. Peter is with Naomi or Sylvia, and Ivan is with Margaret. There are moments when their worlds collide, but not too often. This was something I missed in “Intermezzo” that I cherished in her previous works — she’s a master of tension and awkward dynamics. The few pages I got where Sylvia and Naomi interacted or Peter would lunch with Ivan, I devoured. I just wish there were hundreds more.
Because of this, though, parts of the book feel as though they are half the length: the plot, the relationships, the maturity of the characters. In reality, there are only 200 or so pages dedicated to each of the characters in the separate plotlines, which makes each story feel much more stagnant than expected. With Peter’s women, it felt like everyone was trying not to step on each other’s toes until page 417. The resolutions almost felt too rushed — almost too good to be true.
And yet, with class, Rooney gets to the heart of grief. You can’t help but root for the brothers and their awful, messy decisions as they grapple with the loss of their father. Rooney writes, “Does it make sense to think this way, in terms of moving forces? Like the feeling Ivan had for his father has nowhere to go anymore, like it’s lodged inside him, unexpressed.” It’s with moments like this that Rooney reminds us that underneath her fictional and complicated characters, she writes about just as complicated, real-life issues in a beautiful, poignant way.
Contact Emily Genova at [email protected].
