Book review: Sally Rooney's fourth novel a slow burn that unfolds into a satisfying read
Sally Rooney is an admirably cerebral writer but can sometimes lay it on a bit thick.
Sally Rooney may be the only writer in the world right now who can get bookshops to open their doors at midnight.
The publication of her fourth novel , out today, is being marked with late-night release parties from London to New York.
The literary equivalent of a new Taylor Swift album, Rooney’s legions of diehard fans await the new release with similar levels of excitement and hype. Unlike Swift, however, the Mayo author is far from comfortable in the limelight.
The acclaimed television adaptation of her second book and the red-hot chemistry of its stars, Paul Mescal and Daisy Edgar-Jones as the protagonists Connell and Marianne, brought a whole new level of fame.
Rooney recently told the : “It . . . felt like too much, I don’t want to be the centre of attention like that ever again.”
However, attention sells books, and it could be argued that there are many struggling and equally talented authors who would give their eye-teeth for the kind of heat that being Mescal-adjacent can generate.
Intermezzo is a musical term for an interlude or diversion; it is also used in chess, one of the book’s plot devices, denoting an unforeseen move that forces an immediate response. In this sense, it could be employed to describe the book itself and whether Rooney continues in the same vein or risks surprising her fanbase with something new.
Her last book , featured similar characters to those in and her debut , and was also very much derived from Rooney’s own personal hinterland. However, despite the largely positive reviews, it didn’t set the world alight.
does depart from Rooney’s previous work in many respects — the most significant being that it is told from the male perspective by two alternating narrators.
Peter is a 32-year-old barrister, already jaded and nostalgic for the golden years of his youth, while his brother Ivan is a 22-year-old, ageing out of his chess prodigy status. Their mother is a distant presence and when their father dies they deal with it in typically different ways.
Peter knocks back booze and industrial quantities of tranquilisers and boomerangs between the free-spirited Naomi and his ex, the steadfast Sylvia, while a rudderless Ivan finds an anchor in Margaret, an older women he meets at a chess event in an arts centre.
Rooney is the ultimate millennial writer but that cohort has made way for Generation Z, and the themes of the book reflect that.
Although I fear that at the relatively youthful age of 33, Rooney may be anticipating the declining years a little prematurely — I got a bit of a jolt when 36-year-old Margaret described herself as middle-aged.
Ivan is the more appealing of the brothers, and better defined in terms of characterisation, with Peter’s voice submerged in an idiosyncratically-styled narrative. His peculiarly Yoda-esque interior monologue — ‘Perversely relaxing he finds picking up after her’; ‘Sinful always her smile’; ‘Clean the soles of her feet are’; ‘Blotchy her face he thinks’ — becomes wearisome after a while.
Sex in books is notoriously difficult to get right and Rooney has been praised for her authentically-rendered prose in this regard. The intimate scenes that feature in are well-drawn, from Peter’s initially transactional relations with Naomi to Ivan’s surprisingly mature interactions with a more experienced Margaret. The prospect of a throuple is also suggested, albeit quite tastefully.
Rooney is also an admirably cerebral writer but can sometimes lay it on a bit thick. She doesn’t wear her erudition lightly in either — allusions to Wittgenstein, etc — but the effect is mercifully less sanctimonious.
As in her previous work, Rooney also touches on issues of class and privilege — it would be truly exciting to see her address how power and influence really work in Ireland in a more substantive way in her fiction.
is a slow burn but it eventually unfolds into a satisfying read.
Rooney captures the fractious sibling dynamic and shows real empathy and insight into the impact of grief. It may not tap into the zeitgeist in the same way as and , but it is good to see Rooney’s universe expand in an emotional sense.
While there are moments of existential angst and introspection in , it ends on a welcome note of hope, one that will leave readers anticipating what move the queen of literary fiction makes next.
by Sally Rooney, published by Faber, is out now.
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