Intermezzo by Sally Rooney

A Beautiful Mess of Love and Grief

In Intermezzo, Sally Rooney takes us on a journey into the heart of human relationships—specifically, the complex, sometimes messy, always poignant relationship between two brothers, Peter and Ivan. Set against the lush backdrop of Ireland, the novel is a deep dive into the emotional rollercoaster that follows the loss of their father. Don’t worry, no spoilers here! But let's just say... this is a ride you’ll want to take.

Now, I’ve read Normal People, and like many, I was captivated. But Intermezzo? Well, it’s a whole other level. It’s officially topped my list. Rooney’s signature stream-of-consciousness style pulled me right into Peter and Ivan’s minds, making me feel like I was living inside their heads, experiencing every emotional twist and turn. It's like reading a diary you weren't supposed to find but can't stop flipping through.

What I love about this book isn’t just the plot—although, yes, it’s absolutely gripping. It’s how Rooney uses that plot to untangle the intricate web of human connection and emotion. Peter, the lawyer with his rigid world of rules, and Ivan, the chess genius who’s a little more free-spirited, represent two ends of the spectrum. They love each other, but that love is wrapped in layers of tension, admiration, and unresolved emotion. Sound familiar? Families—am I right?

The real beauty of Intermezzo is in how Rooney shows us that grief and love aren’t opposites; they’re connected, like two sides of the same coin. Both brothers are trying to figure out where they belong and who they are, and it’s in those moments of vulnerability that their bond feels the most real.

Rooney has this gift—she can capture the delicate dance of familial love, the push and pull of deep affection mixed with all the things we never say out loud. You feel the weight of each brother’s burden as the story unfolds. It’s raw, and it’s real. Like when you’re trying to keep everything together, but it all starts slipping through your fingers.

One of my absolute favourite things about this book is how it encapsulates so many years of emotion in such a seamless way. It’s not pretty—it’s ugly, it’s confusing, it’s messy, and it’s so, so real. Peter, struggling with social expectations and love, doesn’t know which way is up. And Ivan? He’s out here falling for an older woman, trying to figure out life while balancing grief and the weight of his own expectations. And let’s not forget Margaret, Sylvia, and Naomi—these women represent different aspects of love, life, and society. They aren’t just side characters; they’re part of this larger conversation about what we want versus what we think we should want.

And here’s the thing: every character in this book is flawed. They make choices that sometimes seem wrong, but you get it. You’re with them every step of the way. They’re all just trying to protect themselves, often at the expense of others—and sometimes, at the expense of themselves. Haven’t we all been there? We’re so focused on doing the “right” thing that we end up doing the exact opposite. That, to me, is one of the book’s core explorations: how we act when faced with love, grief, and—perhaps the most terrifying thing of all—ourselves.

In the end, Intermezzo isn’t just about two brothers; it’s a reflection on how we connect, how we cope with loss, and how we find meaning in the relationships that define us. Sally Rooney has given us a story that cuts deep, and trust me, you’ll be thinking about Peter and Ivan long after you’ve closed the book. If you’re looking for a novel that’ll make you feel everything—love, grief, joy, confusion—then Intermezzo is your next must-read.