‘Intermezzo’ Review: Should You Read Sally Rooney’s Newest Book?

I’m not trying to be dramatic, but I genuinely think Sally Rooney is my Taylor Swift. The way Swifties dissect a Taylor album or vault track with detective-like passion—hunting for easter eggs, discovering hidden meanings, and connecting deeply with her lyrics—is exactly how I approach a Sally Rooney novel. If she ever went on an Eras-style tour, performing spoken snippets from her books, I’d be front row every night. While some readers feel this connection with Sarah J. Maas’ romantasy epics or Emily Henry’s heartwarming rom-coms, for me, Sally Rooney’s existential, character-driven novels are an unparalleled experience.

So when Rooney announced the release date for her latest novel, Intermezzo, I immediately added it to my calendar. After months of anticipation, I binge-read it in a single day, and now, I’m here to break down if Intermezzo lives up to my sky-high Sally Rooney expectations—and whether you should run to your nearest bookstore to buy it.

What is Intermezzo about?

If your knowledge of Sally Rooney begins and ends with the Hulu adaptation of Normal People—which we have to thank for the incredible gifts that are Paul Mescal and Daisy Edgar Jones—let me give you a quick intro to her writing style. Rooney writes contemporary fiction that portrays the intricate, often messy dynamics of modern relationships. Her characters are famously flawed, emotionally complex, and often terrible at communication, making them feel incredibly real. Rooney excels at articulating the emotions you’ve never been able to express and turning them into elegant, poignant prose that speaks directly to your soul. Her novels don’t hinge on plot but instead unfold slowly through deeply introspective character studies, and Intermezzo is no exception.

In Intermezzo, we follow two brothers, 22-year-old Ivan and 32-year-old Peter, as they navigate life after their father’s death. Ivan, a chess champion, begins a relationship with 36-year-old Margaret while grieving. Meanwhile, Peter, a lawyer, juggles two relationships: one with a 23-year-old college student and the other with his ex-girlfriend and longtime love. Ivan and Peter couldn’t be more different, and through their contrasting approaches to women, the world, and each other, Rooney explores themes of loss, regret, and self-reflection.

My review of Intermezzo

Intermezzo feels like a slight departure for Rooney—it’s not really about romance. While complicated relationships are at the forefront, the heart of the story lies in the bond between the brothers. In this way, Intermezzo most closely resembles Beautiful World, Where Are You, as it centers on a platonic relationship rather than a romantic one. Initially, this focus threw me off, as I’ve come to expect certain tropes from Rooney. But as I got to know the characters, the core of the story revealed itself, and it was worth the shift.

The novel alternates between Ivan, Peter, and Margaret’s points of view, and each perspective feels distinctly different. Often, with multiple POVs, I feel like I’m just reading an author narrating the characters’ thoughts still in the author’s voice—but not with Rooney. Her ability to craft language that mirrors the thought patterns of her characters is part of what I love most about her writing (and why I love her controversial abandonment of quotation marks in dialogue).

I genuinely felt as if I was thrust into each character’s mind while reading their perspective. Written in a close third person, Ivan’s chapters feel anxious and introspective, drawing you into his overanalytical brain, while Peter’s chapters are clipped and matter-of-fact, reflecting his stark, rational worldview. At first, the shift between perspectives feels jarring—like jumping into an icy pool—but as you read, you warm up to each character’s voice, leaving you immersed in an unforgettable reading experience.

With Rooney’s writing, we get to know the characters deeply. This character-to-reader intimacy has never been stronger than in Intermezzo. Peter and Ivan are both constantly reflecting on the life they’ve lived, in a way that only grief can inspire. They both, relatably, are desperate to prove to themselves that they are, at their core, good people. They scrutinize every thought and feeling they have against a nonexistent rubric of morality, harshly assigning themselves the grade they think they deserve. This internal conflict is universal, and Rooney captures it with precision. In a desperate attempt to excuse actions that don’t measure up, they blame the other brother for somehow inciting their struggles. Regret for their past actions, how they spent their youth, and how they treated their father fuel the brothers’ actions.

For me, Intermezzo is Rooney’s first true family drama, and she handles it beautifully. She captures the complexity of navigating what a sibling relationship means when you no longer share childhood. She expertly writes the push and pull of familial love and the unique, invisible tether that binds family members, even when life takes them in different directions. Chess serves as the perfect vehicle for Rooney’s metaphors throughout the novel. Her characters always seem to be making strategic moves, playing a game, with an insatiable desire to win—even though they aren’t quite sure what the prize they’re competing for is. There’s no happily-ever-after in her world, but the endings always feel honest, bittersweet, and strangely satisfying.

My only critique is this book can feel slow, and I love a slower-paced read. If you prefer fast-moving stories, you might find your attention wavering. With that said, I loved spending time with the characters without rushing to the next point of view. You can feel the weight of seemingly small, insignificant events wreaking havoc on their subconscious, revealing their inner turmoil and offering more insight into the characters than a plot twist ever could.

Should you read Intermezzo?

Yes, but know what you’re getting into. Intermezzo is beautifully written, with prose, themes, and characters that feel deeply real. But it’s also a book that requires a particular mood. You need to be ready to dive into the flawed, often uncomfortable minds of Ivan and Peter, and you can’t expect a fast-paced plot. If you’re in a reflective headspace, Intermezzo is a must-read. Also, be prepared to cry—and that’s coming from someone who rarely sheds a tear while reading.

MEET THE AUTHOR

Lauren Blue, Staff Writer

As a Staff Writer for The Everygirl, Lauren ideates and writes content for every facet of our readers’ lives. Her articles span the topics of home decor, romance authors, hobbies, travel itineraries—and everything in between. When she isn’t testing the latest TikTok trend, she can be found scouring Instagram for beautiful homes or devouring a new book.