As someone who thrives on literary fiction that peels back the complex layers of human emotions, I was thrilled to come across Intermezzo, Sally Rooney’s much-anticipated fourth novel. Having already explored Rooney’s previous works, Conversations with Friends and Normal People, I felt prepared for the emotional depths, awkward social interactions, and searing character studies she is known for. In many ways, Intermezzo is a departure from these earlier works, while still retaining Rooney’s signature style. As a longtime reader, I approached this novel with the anticipation of encountering familiar themes and an exciting new direction.
The novel reminds me of others I’ve encountered recently, particularly the emotional resonance of Rachel Cusk’s Outline trilogy. Cusk and Rooney both lean into themes of introspection, relationships, and identity—though Rooney’s touch tends to feel more intimate, diving into the uncomfortable spaces between characters.
In Intermezzo, Rooney once again turns her focus inward, this time examining sibling dynamics in a story that unfurls in the aftermath of familial loss. As usual, her dialogue is sharp, her characters are messy and real, and her prose is deceptively simple. This novel marks a maturing in Rooney’s body of work, where she shifts away from youthful angst toward deeper emotional territories. In this review, I’ll break down the story, analyze the central themes, and most importantly, explain the understated yet powerful ending that, as with many Rooney novels, leaves a lasting impact.
Summary of the Plot: Life in Interludes
Intermezzo centers around Peter and Ivan Koubek, two brothers whose relationship has been shaped by years of tension, rivalry, and misunderstanding. The novel opens shortly after the death of their father, a moment of reckoning for both men. Peter, the elder of the two, is a successful lawyer living in Dublin, while Ivan, who is ten years younger, has struggled to find his footing in life despite his early promise as a chess prodigy. Their father’s death acts as a catalyst for the brothers to confront their strained relationship and the unresolved issues that have lingered between them for years.
The story is told through alternating perspectives, with chapters dedicated to Peter, Ivan, and, at times, Margaret, their father’s former partner, and Naomi, Peter’s on-and-off love interest. The shifting viewpoints allow Rooney to delve into each character’s inner life, giving the reader a sense of the complex web of emotions that bind and separate them.
Peter’s chapters reveal a man who is outwardly composed but inwardly grappling with the weight of responsibility and the pressure to maintain control. He has long been the “older brother,” the one who succeeds, the one who keeps things together. But as the novel progresses, it becomes clear that Peter’s need for control has come at the expense of his emotional well-being and his relationship with Ivan.
Ivan, on the other hand, is portrayed as the more vulnerable of the two. His chapters are marked by uncertainty and a deep sense of inadequacy. He is aware of how others, particularly Peter, perceive him—as a failure, as someone who has never quite lived up to his potential. Ivan’s struggle is not only with his brother but with himself, as he wrestles with his identity and the shadow cast by his father and Peter.
Breaking Down the Ending: The Power of Subtlety
Let’s dive into the heart of the novel: its ending. If you’re a reader who loves the cathartic resolution of plotlines, Intermezzo might feel unsatisfying at first. However, that’s exactly where the brilliance lies. Rooney doesn’t rely on dramatic twists or grand gestures to bring her story to a close. Instead, she opts for a quiet, emotionally charged ending that feels true to the characters and the themes of the novel.
In the final chapters, Peter and Ivan engage in a long-awaited confrontation. The brothers, who have spent much of the novel avoiding each other or speaking in half-truths, finally lay their emotions bare. Ivan accuses Peter of condescension, of never truly seeing him as an adult. Peter, in turn, admits that his role as the elder sibling has made it difficult for him to respect Ivan as an equal.
It’s a raw and uncomfortable scene, made all the more powerful by its lack of resolution. Rooney doesn’t give her characters the neat, tidy reconciliation that many readers might expect. Instead, the brothers reach a kind of uneasy truce, an acknowledgment that their relationship will always be complicated and that they may never fully understand each other. This is not a moment of closure, but of acceptance—a theme that runs throughout the novel.
The ending of Intermezzo is particularly striking because of what it doesn’t do. There are no sweeping revelations or dramatic changes. Instead, the novel ends with Peter and Ivan sitting together in silence, a moment that speaks volumes about the nature of their relationship. It’s a scene that highlights the novel’s title—Intermezzo, which refers to a brief interlude or pause in a larger work. This ending reinforces the idea that life is made up of these small, in-between moments, and that sometimes the most significant shifts in relationships occur not in words or actions, but in silence.
Themes of Grief, Memory, and Identity
At its core, Intermezzo is a novel about grief—grief for a lost parent, for missed opportunities, and for the relationships that could have been. The death of the Koubek brothers’ father acts as a catalyst for the events of the novel, but it is the emotional aftermath that forms the heart of the story.
Peter and Ivan’s differing responses to their father’s death highlight one of the novel’s central themes: memory and how it shapes our understanding of ourselves and each other. Throughout the novel, the brothers’ memories of their father—and of each other—are shown to be incomplete, distorted by time and personal biases. Peter, who was closer to their father, remembers him as a distant but respected figure, while Ivan, who felt neglected by his father, carries a sense of resentment and loss.
This theme of memory is woven into the fabric of the novel, particularly in the scenes where the brothers attempt to piece together their shared history. Rooney masterfully illustrates how memory is not a static thing, but a fluid, ever-changing construct that is influenced by our emotions and experiences. This is most evident in the final confrontation between Peter and Ivan, where they realize that their memories of the same events are vastly different. This realization forces them to confront the fact that they may never fully understand each other, but it also opens the door for them to find a new way forward.
Class Dynamics and Social Commentary
In addition to its exploration of memory and grief, Intermezzo also touches on themes of class and privilege, a recurring motif in Rooney’s work. Peter, as a successful lawyer, represents a kind of privilege that Ivan, who has struggled to find his place in the world, resents. This class divide is not the central focus of the novel, but it is present in the subtle ways the brothers interact with each other.
Naomi, Peter’s love interest, further complicates this dynamic. As a working-class student, Naomi is both attracted to and repelled by Peter’s success. Their relationship is marked by a tension that mirrors the class divide between them. Rooney handles this theme with her usual subtlety, never making it the focal point of the story, but allowing it to permeate the interactions between characters.
In this way, Intermezzo continues Rooney’s exploration of how class shapes our relationships and our sense of self. The novel doesn’t offer easy answers or solutions, but instead presents the complexities of class as just one more layer in the already fraught dynamics between the characters.
Rooney’s Evolving Style: A Mature Work
Intermezzo marks a departure from the youthful angst and romantic entanglements of Rooney’s earlier works, signaling a new phase in her literary career. Where Normal People and Conversations with Friends focused on the romantic and social lives of young adults, Intermezzo tackles more mature themes with equal dexterity. The characters in Intermezzo are older, more world-weary, and their relationships are messier, more complicated by time and life’s inevitable disappointments.
Stylistically, Rooney’s prose remains as sharp and incisive as ever, but there is a new depth to her writing that wasn’t as prominent in her earlier works. The dialogue in Intermezzo is, at times, clipped and fragmented, mirroring the emotional distance between the characters. Rooney’s use of alternating perspectives allows her to delve into each character’s inner life in a way that feels intimate and revealing. This shifting narrative style gives the reader a fuller understanding of the characters’ motivations and the ways in which they misunderstand each other.
Perhaps the most significant evolution in Rooney’s style is her willingness to leave things unresolved. In Normal People, there was always the hope of reconciliation, of things working out in the end. In Intermezzo, Rooney leans into the messiness of life, acknowledging that some relationships can’t be fixed, only endured. This maturity is reflected in the novel’s ending, which refuses to tie things up neatly, instead offering a quiet moment of reflection and acceptance.
Intermezzo’s Exploration of Silence and Unspoken Emotions
One of the most compelling aspects of Intermezzo is Rooney’s use of silence as a narrative device. The moments of quiet, of unspoken emotions simmering just below the surface, are where the novel’s most profound insights are found. Rooney has always excelled at writing dialogue that feels true to life—natural, messy, and full of subtext—but in Intermezzo, it’s the silences that speak the loudest.
Throughout the novel, Peter and Ivan struggle to communicate openly with each other. Their conversations are marked by half-truths, unspoken resentments, and awkward pauses. This tension comes to a head in the novel’s climactic argument, where the brothers finally address the emotional distance between them. But even in this moment, the most important things remain unsaid. Rooney’s restraint in this scene is masterful—she doesn’t spell out every emotion or resolution, but allows the characters (and the readers) to sit in the discomfort of their unresolved feelings.
This theme of silence is not limited to Peter and Ivan’s relationship. The novel’s secondary characters—Margaret, Naomi, and even the memory of their father—are also defined by what they don’t say. Rooney is interested in the gaps in communication, the things we leave unsaid out of fear, pride, or a simple inability to articulate our feelings. In Intermezzo, these silences are not weaknesses but a reflection of the complexity of human relationships. We can’t always express what we feel, and even when we try, our words often fall short. Rooney captures this truth with sensitivity and nuance.
The Impact of Family Legacy and Parental Influence
Another major theme in Intermezzo is the impact of family legacy, particularly the way parents shape the lives and identities of their children. Much of Peter and Ivan’s conflict stems from their differing relationships with their father. Peter, the older and more successful brother, carries the weight of his father’s expectations, while Ivan feels the sting of his father’s neglect. Their father’s death serves as a catalyst for the novel, but it also casts a long shadow over the entire story.
Rooney is not interested in painting their father as a villain or a saint; rather, she presents him as a flawed, complex figure who, like many parents, had a profound and lasting impact on his children without fully understanding it. The brothers’ memories of their father are fragmented and contradictory, reflecting the way we all construct our narratives about our parents. Peter sees their father as a distant but respectable figure, someone to live up to, while Ivan views him as a source of pain and disappointment.
This theme of parental influence extends beyond Peter and Ivan’s relationship with their father. Margaret, their father’s former partner, also plays a significant role in shaping the brothers’ perceptions of their family history. Her presence in the novel is a reminder that family dynamics are rarely limited to just parents and children; extended family members and partners also leave their mark. Margaret’s complicated relationship with the brothers adds another layer of emotional tension to the story, as her memories of their father clash with their own.
Rooney explores the idea that we are all shaped, in some way, by our parents’ choices, actions, and even their shortcomings. Peter and Ivan are defined by their differing reactions to their father’s legacy—one striving to live up to it, the other rebelling against it. In this way, Intermezzo becomes a meditation on the inescapability of family ties and the way they continue to influence us, even after our parents are gone.
A Deep Dive into Rooney’s Evolving Themes: From Romantic Entanglements to Familial Bonds
In Intermezzo, Rooney moves away from the romantic entanglements that dominated her earlier works and shifts her focus toward familial bonds. While romantic relationships still play a role in the novel—particularly in Peter’s on-and-off relationship with Naomi—the core of the story is about the relationship between siblings and the ways in which family shapes our identities.
This shift in focus represents an evolution in Rooney’s thematic interests. In Normal People and Conversations with Friends, love and friendship were at the forefront, with characters navigating the complexities of intimacy, desire, and connection. In Intermezzo, these themes are still present, but they take a backseat to the exploration of family dynamics. This is a more mature, reflective work that tackles the messiness of familial relationships with the same precision and emotional insight that Rooney brought to her earlier depictions of romantic love.
The sibling relationship between Peter and Ivan is particularly compelling because it feels both universal and specific. On one hand, it’s a classic tale of sibling rivalry—one brother who seemingly has it all together, and another who feels left behind. On the other hand, Rooney imbues the relationship with so much nuance and emotional complexity that it transcends the usual tropes of sibling dynamics. Peter and Ivan’s relationship is not just about competition or jealousy; it’s about the deep, often unspoken bond that comes from shared history, even when that history is painful.
Rooney’s exploration of sibling dynamics in Intermezzo is both empathetic and unsparing. She doesn’t shy away from the ugly truths of family life—the resentments, the misunderstandings, the failures of communication—but she also highlights the tenderness and love that exist within these relationships. It’s a delicate balancing act, and Rooney pulls it off with remarkable skill.
Conclusion: A Quiet, Lasting Impact
In Intermezzo, Sally Rooney has crafted a novel that is both deeply personal and universally relatable. It is a story about family, memory, identity, and the inescapable influence of our past. Rooney’s characters are flawed, messy, and real, and their relationships are marked by the same complexity and ambiguity that define our own lives. The novel’s ending, with its quiet yet powerful resonance, leaves a lasting impact not because it offers closure, but because it reflects the truth of human relationships: that they are often unresolved, always evolving, and full of unspoken emotions.
Rooney’s decision to leave the brothers’ relationship open-ended is a bold one, but it is also true to life. In reality, most of us don’t get the kind of neat, satisfying resolutions we see in fiction. Instead, we learn to live with the discomfort of ambiguity, with the knowledge that some things may never be fully understood or resolved. Intermezzo captures this truth with grace and honesty, making it one of Rooney’s most mature and thoughtful works to date.
For readers who appreciate nuanced, character-driven fiction, Intermezzo is a must-read. It may not have the immediate emotional impact of Normal People, but it offers something deeper: a meditation on the quiet, often overlooked moments that define our relationships and our lives. Rooney continues to prove that she is one of the most insightful and emotionally intelligent writers of her generation, and Intermezzo is a testament to her evolving talent.