Sally Rooney

An exquisitely moving story about grief, love, and family, from the global phenomenon Sally Rooney.

Aside from the fact that they are brothers, Peter and Ivan Koubek seem to have little in common.

Peter is a Dublin lawyer in his thirties—successful, competent, and apparently unassailable. But in the wake of their father’s death, he’s medicating himself to sleep and struggling to manage his relationships with two very different women—his enduring first love, Sylvia, and Naomi, a college student for whom life is one long joke.

Ivan is a twenty-two-year-old competitive chess player. He has always seen himself as socially awkward, a loner, the antithesis of his glib elder brother. Now, in the early weeks of his bereavement, Ivan meets Margaret, an older woman emerging from her own turbulent past, and their lives become rapidly and intensely intertwined.

For two grieving brothers and the people they love, this is a new interlude—a period of desire, despair, and possibility; a chance to find out how much one life might hold inside itself without breaking.

Intermezzo

smile??

How can it be real to think of these things, this forcefield sensation, this desire to hurt or protect? Things that are real belong to the material world. Feelings, memories, ideas, dreams: these things are outside the realm of objective reality, that perfect self-contained realm, like a snow globe, with everything real inside it. but where is their father now? Inside the realm, or outside? A fact, a reality, or just a memory, a feeling?

Sometimes you need people to be perfect and they can't be and you hate them forever for not being even though it isn't their fault and it's not yours either. You just needed something they didn't have in them to give you. And then in other people's lives you do the same thing, you're the person who lets everyone down, who fails to make anything better, and you hate yourself so much you wish you were dead.

Maybe deep down you really wish I was dead, and you're trying to punish me because I'm not.

What happened to me, she says. Let's be honest, Peter, it ruined my life. And I'm trying to tell you that I'm not going to let it ruin yours.

The right life, yes, at last. [...] Everything rinsed fresh by cold air and water, everything clean and new, he thinks, yes. Because the past falls away behind you at every moment.

What did he want her for if not to ruin his life.

You actually start thinking, Christ, at least I get to die at the end.

Wishes he had told his father. We've worked things out, Dad, we're getting back together. Don't worry about me, I'm happy. Everything's good. You know we all love you very much. That's the only important thing. Thought so wretched he feels his eyes getting blurry, yes, and has to wipe them, half-supporting himself against a lamp-post. If anyone he knows. Peter is that you. Oh yes, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about my father. He died, you see. Not knowing. That I still. That we both, he didn't know. That I hated him for leaving me. That I loved him so much.

Yes. To love whoever I have left. And if ever I lose someone, let me descent into a futile and prolonged rage, yes, despair, wanting to break things, furniture, appliances, wanting to get into fights, to scream, to walk in front of a bus, yes. Let me suffer, please. To love just these few people, to know myself capable of that, I would suffer every day of my life.

Why anyway attachment, why always this attachment to particular people. Why never any sensual excitement at the idea of the unknown, the strangers as yet unmet. Make a break for it maybe. [...] Attachment, the cause of all suffering, so the Buddhists say. To cling to what you have, what you have had, the life you have known, the handful of people and places you have ever really loved, to cling and not let go.

[...] the only question is how to choose. Should he take the cash prize or the new car, what do you think. Pitting one philosophy against another. Maturity against youth. Yes, sobriety against decadence, intellect against appetite, he could go on. Better instead to specify. On the one hand, the love of his life, high principle of his conscience, his complicated feelings for whom have prevented him, let's be honest, from developing any kind of serious attachment to anyone else for the last, whatever, fourteen years. Certain difficulties, certain problems to be negotiated, but isn't that what it means to love someone? On the other hand, his captive, his tormentor, on whom he has lavished how much money, jewellery, gifts, who likes it a little rough, who has with mischievous pleasure outwitted him at every move, and with whom he is feebly and defeatedly in love. Each attempt to contend with her, to win back some little portion of his pride, has only sunk him deeper. Good against evil.

The demands of other people do not dissolve; they only multiply. More and more complex, more difficult. Which is another way, she thinks, of saying: more life, more and more of life.

Can the deep childhood impulse to trust one's mother, to agree with her against oneself, ever be wrestled down by the comparatively thin force of reasoned argument? Are there even reasoned arguments to be made in the matters of love, marriage, intimate life?

All their lives they have known each other. One loose handful of years left now before they are middle-aged together. Compasionable silences of friendship. They will go on facing side by side the awful shocks of life, offering one another when needs be the old comfortable blanket of tacit understanding. Say no more. Better not to speak. I understand.

And why not after all. Why not accept wholeheartedly life's offerings.

Here now he thinks and at the same time elsewhere ten years ago with their eyes closed, her head on his chest, half-sleeping. Later, to wake, wanting again. The closeness of that, as if visible behind a thin veil, through which even a hand could pass, touching, but not. The river never the same.

Life itself, he things, every moment of life, is as precious and beautiful as any game of chess ever played, if only you know how to live.

To love, and for his love to be accepted, yes. It was in fact painful, the relief of all that compression suddenly, to say the words aloud, and hear her saying them, to be loved by her, it was so needed that it actually hurt. Not even a feeling of unmixed happiness, but of happiness that was strongly and confusingly mixed with many other feelings. Sadness, missing his father, and a kind of shame somehow, because each passing day seemed to bring Ivan further away from him and the life they used to have together, a life that was receding increasingly into the past, into the realm of childhood and adolescence. The realisation that his adulthood, into which he was entering now so definitively, and which would last all the rest of his life, would have to be lived without his father. That he was becoming a person his father would never know.

If being around his brother makes him feel bad, why should he have to do it? On the other hand it strikes her as some kind of imperative, perhaps even a law of nature, that people should do their best for one another in times of grief. Ivan and his brother have both lost the same father: surely the loss is something that should be shared, expressed, consoled, not kept separate and silent.

He'll meet someone else, a girl his own age, just like Margaret said, and at first he'll feel confused and guilty, and then in time he won't. And Margaret will greet these events with acceptance, with loving fondness, sincerely wishing Ivan well, remembering always the beautiful purity of what seems to her his soul. Her life, after the interlude of their nearness, will resume as before, no worse, and perhaps even for his affection a little better.

This is what you get, Bridget seemed to be saying, for being different. Well, it's true, after all, Margeret thinks. This is what you get. To work in a nice place with a few interesting people, to have friends with whom to discuss life and ideas. To attend the theatre, to hear live music, to arrange the use of the studio room on Monday nights for the local philosophy reading group. Oh, Kierkegaard, that'll be interesting. To exercise once again, for a little time, who knows how long, the power to charm and fascinate, to be the object of an intense and searching desire. And to feel inside herself the reciprocating force of desire, this is what she gets, a life of her own.

And finally she said: I suppose I'm afraid that someone will get hurt, in the end. [...] Yeah, obviously, he answered. I mean, it's possible. It's probable, if you want to put it that way. But you still have to life your life, in my view.

To allow herself this pleasure. To be foolish and impulsive for once. To lie half-asleep afterwards, murmuring: I don't know, am I being foolish and impulsive? and to hear Ivan's thoughtful intelligent voice answering: Well, if you are being, is there anything wrong with that?

Oh, here we go, she says. I suppose your father raised you both on his own, did he?

- really moved me. a lot of what these characters went through reminded me of my own family in different ways. gonna ask my brother to sign my copy on christmas day wish me luck

- the prose left me totally floored after basically every other page. there was something magical to find every time i re-opened the book

- horribly sad. i feel like crying just by looking back and thinking about what half the characters went through

- re: the themes i really enjoyed the early chapters from peter’s pov thinking about what makes life meaningful, especially with how that circled back to margaret’s personal story as well

- wonderful and depressing and heartwarming. loved it

- really moved me. a lot of what these characters went through reminded me of my own family in different ways. gonna ask my brother to sign my copy on christmas day wish me luck

- the prose left me totally floored after basically every other page. there was something magical to find every time i re-opened the book

- horribly sad. i feel like crying just by looking back and thinking about what half the characters went through

- re: the themes i really enjoyed the early chapters from peter’s pov thinking about what makes life meaningful, especially with how that circled back to margaret’s personal story as well

- wonderful and depressing and heartwarming. loved it

- 10/10

Never cease to amaze me how proficient this book in rage baiting me. Every chapter of it would be me saying wow what an asshole and even in the end hold zero accountability of their action. 

For the love of God please just get a therapy, everyone, all of you.

Been thinking about dropping this book at the first two chapter but here I am. I'm never a fan of Rooney writing style since reading normal people, now even giving it another chance I'm still not, sometimes everything is just a jumbled mess and dizzying it hard to follow.

The good factor of this book is Peter and Ivan messy relationship and by that Peter situation as a first born child hit a little bit too close to home, the temper, thinking of never enough, always apologizing, the suppressing emotion because doesn't want people to be awkward and uncomfortable, and just wanted to be loved. All in all, Rooney is actually have a way in describing and depicting complex emotion and feeling so well.

But hey friendly reminder, it is not a justification for your action at all! hope this helps!

Rene

Never cease to amaze me how proficient this book in rage baiting me. Every chapter of it would be me saying wow what an asshole and even in the end hold zero accountability of their action. 

For the love of God please just get a therapy, everyone, all of you.

Been thinking about dropping this book at the first two chapter but here I am. I'm never a fan of Rooney writing style since reading normal people, now even giving it another chance I'm still not, sometimes everything is just a jumbled mess and dizzying it hard to follow.

The good factor of this book is Peter and Ivan messy relationship and by that Peter situation as a first born child hit a little bit too close to home, the temper, thinking of never enough, always apologizing, the suppressing emotion because doesn't want people to be awkward and uncomfortable, and just wanted to be loved. All in all, Rooney is actually have a way in describing and depicting complex emotion and feeling so well.

But hey friendly reminder, it is not a justification for your action at all! hope this helps!

a tale of two brothers. simple and easy to read, with some interesting observations about grief, religion, and relationships. I only wish the female characters were seen from more than just the male perspective and that some concepts were more fully expressed. 

Mic Carter

I actually really really liked this, I just cant give it 5 stars because i want Naomi's POV so bad, like i truly believe that not including Naomi's point of view is the fumble of a life time. It would've tied in the book all around with it's messaging: Juxtaposing Peter and Ivan whilst also showing that they're inherently the same. It especially doesn't make sense to me since we have Margret's perspective, while this lack could show how Peter doesn't think of her as an individual, that doesn't exactly make sense, because then, we would have Sylvia's. 

 I can see why people don't particularly like this, It's definitely a weird writing style compared to other authors, but if you like Sally Rooney's work, you'll like it. It has the hallmark of her writing (deep character studies, no quotation marks, and different dynamics and how they work together). I think this had such a good way of tying together despite the fact I mentioned before. And honestly, I think compared to Normal People it was a lot easier to read (though maybe that's because I already read normal people and was familiarized with the writing) and more entertaining than normal people. I felt way more immersed this time around. 

Anyway, although there is no denying that Peter is a worse overall person, I found his perspective way more interesting than Ivan's or Margaret's. Like his introspective was interesting, and contrary to what a lot of people believed I didn't find them slow nor boring. I was looking forward to them and bummed out whenever it changed. Plus I think the sentence type used for his chapters were very reminiscent of what being overwhelmed or having a panic attack or whatever else he had going on felt like. They were very hazed and quick and read like being out of breath. Referring to Naomi as "the other" was quite foul. She was truly having a full brat summer (well autumn) with every emotion on that album.

 At the end of the day though, he was a better brother. Because Ivan was doing way too much and being dramatic. Which characteristically makes sense because he's younger, but, he isn't a teenager, he's a grown man acting like this. Like Peter was definitely in the wrong at most points (especially as the readers know there is more underlying that Ivan doesn't know) BUT Ivan never allows peter to apologize. 

And I think if the roles were reversed (meaning if the character traits stayed exactly the same just the ages were swapped) Ivan would've been a lot crueler. Maybe not physically, but he'd be more closed off and wouldn't have taken the time of day to reach out in the first place. Because whilst Peter has his own messed up unconditional love towards Ivan, while Ivan doesn't really see it, it's still apparent, he just doesn't want to acknowledge it. 

Actually, I think that's a strong characteristic of Peter that stays throughout the book. He's at least there, he might act like an ass but at the end of the day for each character in the novel, he showed up for, tried to help them out a little, in the way he can.

But Ivan doesn't do that, we don't see some distinct moral code in him at all. We see it tested through flashbacks, in fits of rage, and sort of reconciled, but it's never built into the narrative, which is why I can't 100% back him as a character (although he's sweet), like the only common denominator of a characteristic that stays with him is the fact that he immediately lashes out when he's disagreed with. 

And yk what, back to Peter, I would've 100% crashed out and completely changed if I had something life changing happen to me and I'm trying to get help and just some consolation about it and I get walked out on. Not even a single word. I'd hold some grudge, and Peter doesn't! He lit only called him weird. 

Absolute nightmare rotation: Reading this & watching Aftersun

melanie

I actually really really liked this, I just cant give it 5 stars because i want Naomi's POV so bad, like i truly believe that not including Naomi's point of view is the fumble of a life time. It would've tied in the book all around with it's messaging: Juxtaposing Peter and Ivan whilst also showing that they're inherently the same. It especially doesn't make sense to me since we have Margret's perspective, while this lack could show how Peter doesn't think of her as an individual, that doesn't exactly make sense, because then, we would have Sylvia's. 

 I can see why people don't particularly like this, It's definitely a weird writing style compared to other authors, but if you like Sally Rooney's work, you'll like it. It has the hallmark of her writing (deep character studies, no quotation marks, and different dynamics and how they work together). I think this had such a good way of tying together despite the fact I mentioned before. And honestly, I think compared to Normal People it was a lot easier to read (though maybe that's because I already read normal people and was familiarized with the writing) and more entertaining than normal people. I felt way more immersed this time around. 

Anyway, although there is no denying that Peter is a worse overall person, I found his perspective way more interesting than Ivan's or Margaret's. Like his introspective was interesting, and contrary to what a lot of people believed I didn't find them slow nor boring. I was looking forward to them and bummed out whenever it changed. Plus I think the sentence type used for his chapters were very reminiscent of what being overwhelmed or having a panic attack or whatever else he had going on felt like. They were very hazed and quick and read like being out of breath. Referring to Naomi as "the other" was quite foul. She was truly having a full brat summer (well autumn) with every emotion on that album.

 At the end of the day though, he was a better brother. Because Ivan was doing way too much and being dramatic. Which characteristically makes sense because he's younger, but, he isn't a teenager, he's a grown man acting like this. Like Peter was definitely in the wrong at most points (especially as the readers know there is more underlying that Ivan doesn't know) BUT Ivan never allows peter to apologize. 

And I think if the roles were reversed (meaning if the character traits stayed exactly the same just the ages were swapped) Ivan would've been a lot crueler. Maybe not physically, but he'd be more closed off and wouldn't have taken the time of day to reach out in the first place. Because whilst Peter has his own messed up unconditional love towards Ivan, while Ivan doesn't really see it, it's still apparent, he just doesn't want to acknowledge it. 

Actually, I think that's a strong characteristic of Peter that stays throughout the book. He's at least there, he might act like an ass but at the end of the day for each character in the novel, he showed up for, tried to help them out a little, in the way he can.

But Ivan doesn't do that, we don't see some distinct moral code in him at all. We see it tested through flashbacks, in fits of rage, and sort of reconciled, but it's never built into the narrative, which is why I can't 100% back him as a character (although he's sweet), like the only common denominator of a characteristic that stays with him is the fact that he immediately lashes out when he's disagreed with. 

And yk what, back to Peter, I would've 100% crashed out and completely changed if I had something life changing happen to me and I'm trying to get help and just some consolation about it and I get walked out on. Not even a single word. I'd hold some grudge, and Peter doesn't! He lit only called him weird. 

Absolute nightmare rotation: Reading this & watching Aftersun

For a long time reading this, I dreaded Peter’s POV but have since found an appreciation for the prose style change that Rooney boldly uses. We go on living!!

Brynn Sklar

I was slightly let down by this book, which hurts me to say. I have seen so many reviews and heard so many friends and acquaintances talk about how they enjoyed this book, I think it set my expectations too high.

The plot on paper was extremely interesting to me, as I am a huge fan of novels that delve into and explore familial relationships. What disappointed me, though, is that there was what felt like a lack of that. I found that the book focused much more on the romantic dynamics and relationships Ivan and Peter had with their respective love interests rather than the relationship they had with each other, which I believed was going to be the main focus of the novel.

The parts that did explore Ivan and Peter's relationship, however, were the highlights of this book for me. I love how they are relatively similar, and yet so much has happened that they find themselves so distant. I love the journey they went through, and I love how they came back together. I found the conflicting feelings of both loving and hating a brother very realistic, and very relatable as someone who has had a tumultuous relationship with a brother in the past.

Contrary to other reviews, I actually enjoyed the writing style in the first few chapters. I found it easy to get into, and even now after finishing the book, Sally Rooney's style of writing is what will keep me reading her work. In terms of Intermezzo's writing specifically, I have to say I found it dragging at several points. I found the sex scenes contributed nothing to an otherwise constantly advancing novel, and whilst I believe them to be there to show relationship dynamics, this was showcased much better in any other scene that focused on romantic partnerships.

The character development was also something I found very interesting, and individually I enjoyed learning about the characters. I have no notes on Ivan and Margaret as a couple, I absolutely adored every second of their scenes. What I did not enjoy as much, though, is the dynamic between Peter, Sylvia and Naomi. I found it very uncomfortable, especially towards the end of the second part where Peter says something about wanting to get Naomi pregnant and ruin her life. Just a generally uncomfortable thing, and it definitely put me off and left a stain on my enjoyment of the book.

I also did not enjoy the final dynamic between the three of them, as I generally find a three-way relationship (or an even higher number) to be odd. It is just not something I am comfortable with in my every day life, and I was not comfortable with that being the conclusion of their relationship.

On the other hand, I loved the way the story wrapped up Ivan's relationships with Peter and with Margaret. I thought his storyline was done it's due justice, and it was wonderful that his story ended the way it did.

Overall a decent book, however with certain events and the story dragging, as well as just my general feeling of being underwhelmed, I cannot mark it as high as I would have liked to.

iris may

I was slightly let down by this book, which hurts me to say. I have seen so many reviews and heard so many friends and acquaintances talk about how they enjoyed this book, I think it set my expectations too high.

The plot on paper was extremely interesting to me, as I am a huge fan of novels that delve into and explore familial relationships. What disappointed me, though, is that there was what felt like a lack of that. I found that the book focused much more on the romantic dynamics and relationships Ivan and Peter had with their respective love interests rather than the relationship they had with each other, which I believed was going to be the main focus of the novel.

The parts that did explore Ivan and Peter's relationship, however, were the highlights of this book for me. I love how they are relatively similar, and yet so much has happened that they find themselves so distant. I love the journey they went through, and I love how they came back together. I found the conflicting feelings of both loving and hating a brother very realistic, and very relatable as someone who has had a tumultuous relationship with a brother in the past.

Contrary to other reviews, I actually enjoyed the writing style in the first few chapters. I found it easy to get into, and even now after finishing the book, Sally Rooney's style of writing is what will keep me reading her work. In terms of Intermezzo's writing specifically, I have to say I found it dragging at several points. I found the sex scenes contributed nothing to an otherwise constantly advancing novel, and whilst I believe them to be there to show relationship dynamics, this was showcased much better in any other scene that focused on romantic partnerships.

The character development was also something I found very interesting, and individually I enjoyed learning about the characters. I have no notes on Ivan and Margaret as a couple, I absolutely adored every second of their scenes. What I did not enjoy as much, though, is the dynamic between Peter, Sylvia and Naomi. I found it very uncomfortable, especially towards the end of the second part where Peter says something about wanting to get Naomi pregnant and ruin her life. Just a generally uncomfortable thing, and it definitely put me off and left a stain on my enjoyment of the book.

I also did not enjoy the final dynamic between the three of them, as I generally find a three-way relationship (or an even higher number) to be odd. It is just not something I am comfortable with in my every day life, and I was not comfortable with that being the conclusion of their relationship.

On the other hand, I loved the way the story wrapped up Ivan's relationships with Peter and with Margaret. I thought his storyline was done it's due justice, and it was wonderful that his story ended the way it did.

Overall a decent book, however with certain events and the story dragging, as well as just my general feeling of being underwhelmed, I cannot mark it as high as I would have liked to.

Stella

Really enjoyed the lengthy inner dialogue(s) of this one. The little depictions of romantic or sibling relationships, the slowness/ the lack of anything really happening/ disorganization of non-monogamy is so reminiscent to me of the style of writing Donna Tart uses to portray a period of time that lasts forever in the Goldfinch. Pretty slow and sophisticated read. A little sad of course, to be expected with Sally Rooney. I’ve heard people either love or hate this book- to me, it’s tender, it’s angry, it’s grieving and it’s sort of the essence of our human minds’ pandering about. The ending was “meh” to me but perhaps there’s no real conclusion with a book as realistic as this. Unusually realistic and also hallmark-y all at once. 

Lily Dendy

I don’t love Rooney’s writing style but I can appreciate the effect of it. I liked the dynamic captured between the brothers after such a devastating loss. Favorite character was Naomi, she deserved better. 

Mehul Sharma

“These days, yesterday, last night, this morning, I’ve wanted everything. 217”

Arie P

“These days, yesterday, last night, this morning, I’ve wanted everything. 217”

Rooney does romance like no one else.

part 1 was so boring i almost stopped reading but im glad i hung on

Cici Pearson

mildly hard to get into but overall a good exploration of weird sibling relationships and how grief forces people apart and together at the same time

enjoyed the switches in perspective, and found it interesting that margaret was a prominent character with her own chapters but naomi and sylvia did not - keeping us from being able to see their perspectives outside of peter's projections. 

camille paradis

mildly hard to get into but overall a good exploration of weird sibling relationships and how grief forces people apart and together at the same time

enjoyed the switches in perspective, and found it interesting that margaret was a prominent character with her own chapters but naomi and sylvia did not - keeping us from being able to see their perspectives outside of peter's projections. 

to be honest i think since finishing this book the conversations and words and exchanges within it that echoes ones i’ve said, or been said to me, or will be said by me or to me in future has destabilised me some. rippled into my being in a quieter way than normal people did in 2020 upon first read, when i was so struck by how so much unsaid between two people create gorges between them, and then had the time to wallow in bed for days reflecting upon how i have lived, and will live in this knowing put into words. this time it is pinpricks on my nail beds and behind my ear and the small of my back and my throat. just whenever, wherever. oh well. both ivan and peter. maybe more of the latter. 

aisha

this was so exhausting in the way novels can only be when it is evenly divided into different perspectives and the only one you care about is doing nothing to make the load lighter on you 😭

if we isolate the technical writing and the character exploration in 

it is unequivocally sally rooney’s best novel so far. no contest, no hesitation. an author of her renown could probably keep writing 

over and over again, in different iterations, and i consider it a gift that she knows what she wants to write and still finds different ways to explore what are, essentially, the same themes. there will perhaps never be a sally rooney novel that isn’t a study in being simply one person existing within a network of people, all these petit bourgeoisie

whose lives are padded by the complexity of attraction, chronic pain, winks of violence, power dynamics in sex, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it bisexuality, love at first debate, and all the many open-ended questions an irish twenty-something living the same life as everyone else can ask about love, art, truth, religion, and the world. it’s the almost painful & boring ordinariness of it all, even at its most “intelligent,” that makes rooney’s tricks seem like magic, and the rest relies on how her characters are surrounded by what brandon taylor’s 

 calls “large networks of friendships, neighbors, families, family friends, coworkers, old lovers, roommates [...] constantly texting and emailing and chatting on the phone, running into so-and-so from down the way, talking about people and things that never show up on the page directly but that conjure a whole world at great depth.”

with five characters making up the central dynamics of 

however, it also carries rooney’s biggest main cast so far, and what ends up being highlighted by the perpetual existing-in-community that her characters experience is that there isn’t really much interpersonal clashing happening between characters who despite their differences 

 to continue being with each other. it’s not that the premises aren’t compelling to me, and if anything there was an overabundance of interesting dynamics here: the brothers and their not-love not-hate, unhelped by parents whose joint non-presence even after death and remarriage constitutes its own grief, only cushioned somehow by the tenderness of knowing you have wronged and been wronged by family and none of it matters bc you will always be bound; the fact that ivan & peter are ten years apart and are each dating women that are the other’s age; the class discrepancy between peter and naomi, and what survival counts for either of them, especially with sylvia in the mix, unable to contend with pain and loss, her own let alone anyone else’s. there are a lot fun stuff happening here! and so the absence is more felt when nothing really remarkable happens between all these active chemical components. they do nudge each other like one of those race kart games in amusement parks, sometimes with more force, sometimes with less. but there’s no real burst of activity that earns the amount of internal conflict these characters experience around and about each other, and when the novel finally ends, it seems merely a precursor to the real heart of everything these five people have going on. 

 perhaps words it best in saying that “

is artificially brought to an end at the precise moment where it ought to begin.” 

at one point, the narration remarks that the concepts of profit and commodity allows for the wheels of human interaction to be “greased” by exploitation. what does it say about 

that its five characters arrive at the end of the book having smoothened out what minute friction there was between them in the first place?

if i am failing to grasp what i felt about this book and am relying too much on those of others, then i’ll blame it partly on the fact that the main characters of 

do the same. they rely on chess metaphors and wittgensteinian examinations of semantics and etymology, and have their thoughts interrupted with biblical passages and sparks of quotes that approximate what they feel and believe. it’s hard for me not to feel for them bc of this, and the biggest surprise of the book isn’t that 

is still the undefeated champion of my personal rooney olympics, but that it was peter and not ivan i felt more tenderness for. peter, who was only reaching the height of his personal horrors, all of them unaddressed, by the book’s end. peter, who’s really quite unlikeable and unjustified in the burdens he carries, yet suffuses the prose with texture that his brother’s pov does not. peter, who’s not really a person, whose conflict couldn’t appear more contrived, denied by his author even the basic everyday hardship of having to make a choice. peter, who’s only interesting bc sylvia and naomi were the most compelling things about him. peter, who thought of love and intimacy as the grace of god. peter, whose grief had at times the kind of clarity i expected from the novel as a whole, only to be drowned in a sea of philosophizing that i can’t help but allow him bc it was as if he made 

rooney’s dialogue is as swift and sharp as ever, her characterization indulgent and human in all the best ways, and her eye for description shining in particular in the prose style of this novel. she’s only gotten more fluid and assured with time, and even in my exhaustion, i never once felt the novel was overwritten. it 

 have been shorter, but i believe in its choice for prose and style. the tenderness i felt for the novel as a whole was real. again, it goes a long way that rooney never serves the same dish in the same way. even when she asks the same questions, she finds different paths towards the answers she wants, and it brings a kind of joy specific to watching someone else’s intellectual exercise succeed. i just wish this one had been equally emotional for me as well.

this was so exhausting in the way novels can only be when it is evenly divided into different perspectives and the only one you care about is doing nothing to make the load lighter on you 😭

if we isolate the technical writing and the character exploration in intermezzo, it is unequivocally sally rooney’s best novel so far. no contest, no hesitation. an author of her renown could probably keep writing normal people over and over again, in different iterations, and i consider it a gift that she knows what she wants to write and still finds different ways to explore what are, essentially, the same themes. there will perhaps never be a sally rooney novel that isn’t a study in being simply one person existing within a network of people, all these petit bourgeoisie whose lives are padded by the complexity of attraction, chronic pain, winks of violence, power dynamics in sex, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it bisexuality, love at first debate, and all the many open-ended questions an irish twenty-something living the same life as everyone else can ask about love, art, truth, religion, and the world. it’s the almost painful & boring ordinariness of it all, even at its most “intelligent,” that makes rooney’s tricks seem like magic, and the rest relies on how her characters are surrounded by what brandon taylor’s review calls “large networks of friendships, neighbors, families, family friends, coworkers, old lovers, roommates [...] constantly texting and emailing and chatting on the phone, running into so-and-so from down the way, talking about people and things that never show up on the page directly but that conjure a whole world at great depth.”

with five characters making up the central dynamics of intermezzo, however, it also carries rooney’s biggest main cast so far, and what ends up being highlighted by the perpetual existing-in-community that her characters experience is that there isn’t really much interpersonal clashing happening between characters who despite their differences have to continue being with each other. it’s not that the premises aren’t compelling to me, and if anything there was an overabundance of interesting dynamics here: the brothers and their not-love not-hate, unhelped by parents whose joint non-presence even after death and remarriage constitutes its own grief, only cushioned somehow by the tenderness of knowing you have wronged and been wronged by family and none of it matters bc you will always be bound; the fact that ivan & peter are ten years apart and are each dating women that are the other’s age; the class discrepancy between peter and naomi, and what survival counts for either of them, especially with sylvia in the mix, unable to contend with pain and loss, her own let alone anyone else’s. there are a lot fun stuff happening here! and so the absence is more felt when nothing really remarkable happens between all these active chemical components. they do nudge each other like one of those race kart games in amusement parks, sometimes with more force, sometimes with less. but there’s no real burst of activity that earns the amount of internal conflict these characters experience around and about each other, and when the novel finally ends, it seems merely a precursor to the real heart of everything these five people have going on. ryan ruby perhaps words it best in saying that “intermezzo is artificially brought to an end at the precise moment where it ought to begin.” 

at one point, the narration remarks that the concepts of profit and commodity allows for the wheels of human interaction to be “greased” by exploitation. what does it say about intermezzo, that its five characters arrive at the end of the book having smoothened out what minute friction there was between them in the first place?

if i am failing to grasp what i felt about this book and am relying too much on those of others, then i’ll blame it partly on the fact that the main characters of intermezzo do the same. they rely on chess metaphors and wittgensteinian examinations of semantics and etymology, and have their thoughts interrupted with biblical passages and sparks of quotes that approximate what they feel and believe. it’s hard for me not to feel for them bc of this, and the biggest surprise of the book isn’t that conversations with friends is still the undefeated champion of my personal rooney olympics, but that it was peter and not ivan i felt more tenderness for. peter, who was only reaching the height of his personal horrors, all of them unaddressed, by the book’s end. peter, who’s really quite unlikeable and unjustified in the burdens he carries, yet suffuses the prose with texture that his brother’s pov does not. peter, who’s not really a person, whose conflict couldn’t appear more contrived, denied by his author even the basic everyday hardship of having to make a choice. peter, who’s only interesting bc sylvia and naomi were the most compelling things about him. peter, who thought of love and intimacy as the grace of god. peter, whose grief had at times the kind of clarity i expected from the novel as a whole, only to be drowned in a sea of philosophizing that i can’t help but allow him bc it was as if he made intermezzo another novel altogether. 

i do think there’s brilliance here. rooney’s dialogue is as swift and sharp as ever, her characterization indulgent and human in all the best ways, and her eye for description shining in particular in the prose style of this novel. she’s only gotten more fluid and assured with time, and even in my exhaustion, i never once felt the novel was overwritten. it could have been shorter, but i believe in its choice for prose and style. the tenderness i felt for the novel as a whole was real. again, it goes a long way that rooney never serves the same dish in the same way. even when she asks the same questions, she finds different paths towards the answers she wants, and it brings a kind of joy specific to watching someone else’s intellectual exercise succeed. i just wish this one had been equally emotional for me as well.

First time not binging a Sally Rooney book, and one of the most pleasurable reading experiences I’ve ever had.

Margo Koss

abi a

Dreadfully boring, an absolute slog to get through. 

Karmen 

It's a great reflection on human relationships and also the psychological response to grief. 

Marie Arnaudon

love her writing and how complicated the characters are. Confused about the throuple situation lol - but lovely nonetheless 

Adele Etheridge Woodson

Nathan Davis

Aside from the fact that they are brothers, Peter and Ivan Koubek seem to have little in common.
Peter is a Dublin lawyer in his thirties - successful, competent and apparently unassailable. But in the wake of their father's death, he's medicating himself to sleep and struggling to manage his relationships with two very different women - his enduring first love Sylvia, and Naomi, a college student for whom life is one long joke.

Ivan is a twenty-two-year-old competitive chess player. He has always seen himself as socially awkward, a loner, the antithesis of his glib elder brother. Now, in the early weeks of his bereavement, Ivan meets Margaret, an older woman emerging from her own turbulent past, and their lives become rapidly and intensely intertwined.

For two grieving brothers and the people they love, this is a new interlude - a period of desire, despair and possibility - a chance to find out how much one life might hold inside itself without breaking.

Intermezzo

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