The first time I tried Intermezzo, I didn’t last ten pages.
This was the fault of Conversations With Friends. I read it earlier this year in anticipation of Intermezzo and found it disappointing. I gave it a reluctant 4-stars but with more distance, I find myself continuing to dislike it. I never cared for the central relationship and while Rooney has talent, it’s evident that this was her first book and she was not yet fully confident in telling stories like this.
My first go round with Intermezzo, I’m again introduced to a Conversations-esque male character I care little for, plus I found the style of this book to be overwritten as consumed to Rooney’s typically beautiful sparse prose. Sigh.
And so it sent me into a Sally Rooney existential tailspin. Normal People is an all-time favorite book. It made my Top 10 of the 21st Century. It rocked me when I read it. The tv series is great too. Was that an aberration? Did I care too much about the relationship there, overlooking the forrest for the trees in Rooney’s subtext?
I purchased Intermezzo after flaming out with my library copy because I loved Normal People enough that I knew I would give Rooney grace. I don’t know what compelled me to pick it up again so recently; I wasn’t hankering for round two. But I did.
And once I could accept the books idiosyncrasies, I wound up loving large parts of it. Because when she breaks it all down, Rooney is still the master at writing those sweet, tender moments, those moments of anticipation, of anxiety, of hope and fear. And it’s those moments that made this book. So while I never cared for Peter’s character much (I just know too many men who can’t handle their emotions and thus it doesn’t make for interesting reading), I loved the story of Ivan and Margaret. I loved that Rooney swapped the gender in her eternal interrogation of age dynamics in relationships. I loved the story she built around Peter and Ivan’s brotherhood.
It doesn’t wallop the way Normal People did; it’s more a collection of moments but the moments are what make Rooney great anyway. So it works for me and it’s still one of the best things I’ve read this year and thus, I’m settling in on my own unified theory of Sally Rooney.