Rooney excels at capturing the contradictions in her characters' personalities to weave her narratives, subtly hinting at contemporary dilemmas. This style creates a multi-layered effect. Beyond the main characters, you can hear the background noise: gender, class, ongoing wars, the deteriorating environment, isolation, and pandemics. These issues remain unresolved, leaving characters stuck in their rooms, hesitant to move forward. Presenting such dilemmas, attempts to solve them, and the failures and dead ends form the backdrop of Rooney’s novels - a kind of positive defeatism.
However, this backdrop disappears in her new book, Intermezzo. This novel tells the story of 2 brothers. Peter is a successful, capable lawyer in his 30s in Dublin, with issues of substance abuse and complicated relationships with women. His younger brother Ivan is a 22-year-old chess nerd. The novel begins with the death of their father. After the funeral, Peter returns to Dublin, while Ivan goes to another city for a competition and meets Margaret, a charming divorced woman. The novel alternates between Peter and Ivan's perspectives, exploring their lives and intimate relationships.
Toxic relationships are a hallmark of Rooney’s writing and drive the story's development. In this novel, she sets up 2 lovers for Peter. 1 is Sylvia, who grew up with him since their student days - after an accident, Peter and Sylvia lost their sexual connection. The other is Naomi, a young, seductive university student.
In this storyline, Rooney seems to question the traditional relationship between sex and love, whether they can exist independently, whether they can break free from patriarchy and monogamy to reach new forms of intimacy. But this attempt is unsuccessful. Perhaps because Peter is the narrative subject, or because the stream-of-consciousness style disrupts the narrative, the 2 women's characters are far from well-rounded and instead feel inexplicably outdated. Except for a quarrel at the end of the novel, Sylvia always plays the idealized wife: gentle, tolerant, and considerate. As for Naomi, the first chapter of the novel has Peter, drunk after the funeral, going to Naomi's place. Their lovemaking scene has a redemptive feel, as if Naomi's character is Sonia from Crime and Punishment, embodying both saint and sinner.
To a large extent, Peter's storyline can be seen as a rewrite of Conversations with Friends, Naomi plays Frances's role, while Sylvia and Peter correspond to the somewhat famous writer Melissa and her actor husband Nick. But while both depict the emotional lives of the upper-middle class and affairs between young women and middle-aged men, but the characters in Conversations with Friends feel much more real than those in this novel.
Rooney’s characters often make political statements, more to resist loneliness. In a sense, her characters practice Hannah Arendt’s views on democracy and modern society - atomization of individuals leads to loneliness. ”To be uprooted means to have no place in the world, recognized and guaranteed by others; to be superfluous means not to belong to the world at all." Public political discussions are 1 way to resist this loneliness - people connect in some way, forming new communities. Another way is through sex. Rooney’s characters often seem to be suspicious and hurt each other; only during sex do they get close, revealing their vulnerable, emotional sides. The touch of fingers, warm breaths, hair, bathroom steam, and skin contact seem to be the only way to hold themselves together, to resist the violence of politics and the world. After sex, they chat briefly, talking about everything but love, yet never asking the real questions.
Aristotle said, "Man is a political animal," which is especially evident in Rooney’s protagonists. They talk about politics in conversations, chats, and emails, and their lives are subtly influenced by politics, including sex. In this novel, she still captures the loneliness of characters in (post)modern society but no longer captures their attempts to get closer. Naomi - a sexy, poor young university student with a bit of an antisocial trait, who doesn't mind getting some financial benefit from her relationships - is once evicted from her rental and has to stay at Peter's place. This should be her forte, the power imbalance in intimate relationships due to age, gender, and social status differences, and the intrusion of the outside world - the eviction - embodying this inequality. The presence of evil forces them to stop pretending, to examine their lives; but can life withstand such scrutiny, or will they ultimately choose to avoid it, retreating to where they started, retreating to their sexual relationship, giving up contact with the world? This is the story Intermezzo should tell, but it needs characters like Frances or Marianne to support it. They have their own views of the world, often conflicting with their actions. This conflict leads to self-loathing and doubt, where the story unfolds, but you don't see this in Naomi.
Intermezzo lacks substance in Naomi's character, giving her a vague impression, with only a few labels like cool, university student, Gen Z. The novel uses details like being barefoot in the room to show her carefree personality and deliberately describes her outfits to highlight the contrast with Sylvia. But all these characterizations are superficial, stopping at Naomi's unconditional acceptance and support of Peter. The character feels disjointed because her personality and behavior are contradictory. In her interactions with Peter, you don't see the decisiveness that should belong to her. She should be a witty, cool character, like Rooney’s other female protagonists, a bit arrogant yet sensitive and fragile. But in her repeated compromises with Peter, Naomi's coolness disappears.
A girl who drinks and plays music can certainly be a romantic, but the character's authenticity needs more substantial support to shape her arc.
In this novel, the character relationships lack a similar process. Naomi and Sylvia only meet at the end of the novel, and shortly after, the story reaches an epic conclusion. This reduces Naomi and Sylvia to mere plot devices. The characters lose their depth, and the story becomes a single-player game with a fixed perspective. The game offers 2 characters, Peter and Ivan, while all other characters are just NPCs in this pseudo-open world set in Dublin. Players can view their backstories, but these backstories seem meaningless, existing only for the game's completeness. NPCs don't need their own plots; they just wait for the protagonist to visit, and the story continues.
This is my overall feeling of Intermezzo. Every time Peter goes to Naomi or Sylvia's place, or Ivan hooks up with Margaret, the sex scenes in the novel become lackluster, no longer an organic part of the story or a hint at character relationships. Naomi's interactions with Peter are one-sided; she asks him, "You don't boss other girls around in bed like you do with me?" Peter responds condescendingly, "It's different for your generation. You're all going around getting strangled and spitting in each other's mouths or whatever. I'm 32 okay, we're normal." They then have sex and chat, comforting each other in the paused plot. Sex and related conversations merely confirm power dynamics. It is confined to a small space, no longer a gateway to the unknown, but an interlude in the sexual process, merely connecting to the next sexual encounter.
Intermezzo is Rooney’s first attempt at narrating solely through male characters, resulting in the overall flattening of female characters. The 3 women in the novel, Sylvia, Naomi, and Margaret, seem like different versions of the same woman, named "Mother." They are isolated from their own stories, like 3 corners of a collapsed tent, causing the potential narrative space to collapse, losing any expansiveness. Without references to the larger world, the story stagnates, and the relationships between characters become closed geometric shapes. Roone’s writing has become self-indulgent navel-gazing.
2.4 / 5 stars