Intermezzo

The beautiful chessboard on Intermezzo's cover shows shadows of people, hinting that the novel explores relationships-- a suggestion that Rooney abundantly fulfills. However, problems could start if the reader internalizes the image on the cover of the book too much, maybe anticipating some of the sexy drama and strategy that typically go into a game of chess.

Even if the cover isn't meant to be taken literally, one might imagine that, since the title suggests that the story explores something akin to an intervening or interruptive period or event, that the characters (as shown in the cover art) are in various positions on the board, in a half-played-out state. Now that the stage is set, where will they go next, what will they do?

While the answer is "not much"-- they may ruminate, they may aimlessly wander around a plane of black and white squares-- that's ok, because there are plenty of spans in a game of chess where it feels like not a lot happens, or it's hard to follow what its going on. Plus, it's possible to appreciate the movements of the pieces for their own sake, as they dance around the board. Rooney has managed to capture the sense that we are following people who are doing the same thing that we are, focusing on the present moment and living our lives in the only way we know how.

So, what if Rooney is tongue-in-cheekly trying to convey that life and chess, both complicated as they are, are actually nothing like each other? The likely response from Rooney die-hards: "don't judge the book by its cover." Understandable-- with Intermezzo, Rooney is just doing more of what she has done successfully in her past novels, blending all the the likely ingredients of literary fiction and the human condition (grief, romance, mental health) into an interesting scenario.