Does Intermezzo change up the game, or is it more like a pleasant musical interlude? The answer is: more the latter
The reason, of course, is her critically acclaimed second novel, Normal People, which followed two young people from Co Sligo growing up and trying to figure out their lives. As is often the way with artists who score a mega-hit early in their career, the risk is that they can’t escape the shadow of their earlier accomplishments and exhaust themselves fighting to redefine how they are seen.
Even from the title of Rooney’s new book, Intermezzo you get the sense that she knows it will still take a while to get there, with this a step along the way: in music, an intermezzo is a short piece connecting two different larger sections; in chess, it means an unexpected, forcing move that aims to shift the dynamic.
Intermezzo follows two brothers, Ivan and Peter, in the months after their father’s death, as they navigate a life with a hole in the centre. Peter is in his 30s, and on the surface, he is a successful, confident barrister for whom everything is going pretty well. Inside, he is depressed and lost, self-medicating to fall asleep, and then self-medicating some more just to get through the day. This includes managing his relationships with two women: his first love, Sylvia, and the younger, free-spirited Naomi. Meanwhile, Ivan is his brother’s opposite, a 22-year-old chess prodigy who looks at the world rationally, if a bit awkwardly. Even at his age, he’s already getting disenchanted with his ‘trade’ and obtains a new perspective on life when meeting and gradually forming a relationship with 36-year-old not-yet-divorced Margaret.
The story is told from both brothers’ perspectives, alternating in styles as it shifts between Ivan’s organised mind and Peter’s darker, more troubled thinking. Perhaps unsurprisingly, then, Ivan’s chapters are the more enjoyable. It is implied, not entirely convincingly through the use of unsubtle, Rainman-style tropes, that Ivan is somewhere on the spectrum, but his world is, relatively speaking, the happier one. Much of this is down to his growing bond with Margaret. Their storyline feels naturalistic and down-to-earth, with a sweetness and kindness in how they deal with day-to-day life. Margaret sometimes gets her own moments within Ivan’s chapters, and it’s hard not to wonder whether it is thanks to the demographic similarity between Margaret and the author that she comes across as the most relatable, fully drawn character.
Peter’s chapters are more difficult to read, and not only because he is going through a very dark period in his life. They are a stream-of-consciousness flow of thoughts, talks, walks, feelings and stage directions, dialling up the habitual Rooney prose to 11. It’s overwrought, and somewhat exhausting at times, even if it is an effective way to show a mind in turmoil.
Unlike Margaret, the women in Peter’s life do not get their own stories or voices. Sylvia, his former girlfriend, is now just a close friend, a professor who is struggling with chronic pain after being injured in an accident. As the story develops, elements of her relationship with Peter emerge, but the picture refuses to come fully into focus. Naomi, meanwhile, is probably the least developed character. She’s a 20-something student who is a hot mess, including the fact that she apparently sometimes makes money by selling photos of herself online. But without hearing things from her side, we only have Peter’s perspective on her, which is not always flattering.
Indeed, one of the strange things about this book is the degree to which it lacks a female perspective. One can only assume that this is deliberate. Perhaps the idea is to show how flatly the men, particularly Peter, see the women in their lives, how unable they are to process them in three dimensions — but if so, it doesn’t fully work. Equally, the men in Intermezzo seem more fully rounded in some ways than others. At times, it feels that we get deep into the characters’ psyches, but at others we barely seem to be scratching the surface.
While the characters sometimes seem to lack depth, you can’t fault the range of topics that Intermezzo grapples with. It is a quiet exploration of life after loss, of fraternal bonds and the many dimensions of grief. Yet it also covers so much more: age differences in relationships; polyamory; chronic pain; social inequality; drug use; economics; and about 15 other issues besides, including such critical issues as which starter Pokémon to choose (Bulbasaur, since you ask) and how that relates to inheritance tax cuts. Mostly, this works well, though at times the author’s voice becomes a bit too intrusive and preachy, as if the characters have just become mouthpieces for the social commentary of Self-Proclaimed Marxist Sally Rooney.
Similarly, the chess theme sits on a knife-edge between being well-observed and being, well, a bit much. Once you know what an intermezzo move is, it’s not a particularly subtle metaphor for the surprises that life throws at you. To be fair, Rooney just about makes it work, combining Ivan’s chess skills, Peter’s ennui and the general complications of life into a portrait of people struggling through their grief, simultaneously alone and together.
Yet to be perfectly honest, this book feels a bit too long, with many chapters feeling weighed down by one too many introspective meanderings or sociopolitical musings. It doesn’t work in the characters’ favour, and I found myself wishing that a ruthless editor, unfazed by the author’s fame, had been allowed to get the scissors out and let the main storyline shine through more clearly.
So, does Rooney’s Intermezzo come out of left field and change up the game, or is it more like a pleasant musical interlude? The answer is: more the latter. It is perfectly readable and entertaining. While a bit too depressing for your average beach read, you can see it doing a good trade in airport bookshops for the next few years. It’s not the type of book that will appeal to new audiences, change readers’ minds about her previous works, or prove beyond doubt that Normal People is retreating into the shadows. But it will definitely satisfy her many, many existing fans. And even if the book does not succeed in moving Rooney into truly new territory, it has at least followed its own advice and pushed forward: “See what happens. Go on in any case living.”
Intermezzo by Sally Rooney
Fiction: Intermezzo by Sally Rooney
Faber & Faber, 448 pages, hardcover €21; e-book £9.50
