The release of Sally Rooney’s latest novel, ‘Intermezzo,’ carries a particular significance for a specific demographic: primarily white, middle-class, millennial women. While it’s reductive to claim you can spot a Rooney fan by their turtleneck, there’s no denying that the author has become synonymous with a certain aesthetic. This association stems from her previous works – ‘Conversations with Friends,’ ‘Normal People,’ and ‘Beautiful World, Where Are You’ – where her heroines share a recurring physical description.
They are consistently pale-skinned, dark-haired, often with fringes, and their fashion choices tend towards simple jeans, T-shirts, and oversized jumpers, all highlighting their slender figures. This similarity often draws comparisons to Rooney herself, leading many to believe that Frances, Marianne, and Alice are all varying degrees of Rooney (with two out of three being writers themselves). This perception is easily understood when you look at Rooney’s image on the back cover and then read the descriptions of her heroines.
The preoccupation with sex in Rooney’s novels naturally leads to numerous paragraphs detailing the removal and donning of clothing. This was evident in the television adaptation of ‘Normal People’ and the widespread discussion surrounding Connell’s chain. However, Rooney’s focus on appearances transcends mere consequence of subject matter. It’s a fundamental element in revealing who her characters are, particularly her female characters. By dressing her heroines in an unfussy, thrown-on uniform, Rooney suggests that they are above fashion, or more accurately, that they feel like they are.
Take, for instance, Rooney’s description of Alice in ‘BWWAY’: “She wears a loose silk blouse and high-waisted jeans, not for the meeting but because she had to wear something, and those were the clothes on the chair when she got out of the shower.” Despite her success as an author, Alice’s primary instinct is to simply put on whatever is available, unconcerned with the specific items. Similarly, Marianne’s blossoming confidence and social status at Trinity College in ‘Normal People’ are reflected in her chic new wardrobe of vintage dresses and polo-necks, synonymous with the “Trinners for Winners” arts student aesthetic. The television adaptation of ‘Normal People’ emphasized this detail, showcasing the significance of Marianne’s wardrobe. The low-cut, spaghetti-strap LBD she wore to the Debs party and the white linen sundress she sported during her Italian escape are iconic images that linger in the mind.
The heroines of the Rooneyverse are social outsiders yet considered the coolest in their groups. They are fiercely intelligent yet sexually submissive. They are beautiful, but they are oblivious to their beauty. It’s no surprise that the sad girl trope prevalent in Rooney’s novels has drawn comparisons to the Manic Pixie Dream Girl of the 2000s. In many ways, the Sally Rooney heroine is an edgier version of the character Zooey Deschanel portrayed repeatedly throughout the Noughties. She’s Seth Cohen’s dream woman who can also recite Proust and roll a cigarette. In essence, she’s anything but a normal person.
Despite this unconventional portrayal, many millennial women find Rooney’s characters refreshingly raw, imperfect, complex, and relatable. A quick scroll through TikTok’s Sally Rooney hashtag reveals countless videos of girls who claim to be “just like” Frances in ‘Conversations with Friends.’ However, by homogenizing her heroines to such an extent (Caucasian, thin, literary), Rooney potentially risks compromising their individuality.
‘Intermezzo’ represents a stylistic shift for Rooney, centering primarily on the perspective of two grieving brothers. Early reviews of the novel are overwhelmingly positive, with many praising the uncharted subject matter. However, it remains to be seen whether her fan base, accustomed to seeing themselves in her waif-like protagonists, will connect with the new characters. While Rooney’s writing remains potent and insightful, this change might signal a new direction for her work.
