Marginalia: I spent my first ever night away from my kids in the company of Sally Rooney.

Intermezzo was the ideal companion for a childfree weekend away. Also: Our favourite picturebooks about cats.

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What I’ve Been Reading (in the margins of motherhood) Recently

Reading Intermezzo during my birthday weekend away at a fancy spa hotel.

I Spent My First Night Ever Away From My Kids In the Company of Sally Rooney

Last weekend I turned thirty-six, and for the first time in my six years of parenting, I spent a night away from my children.

Three years ago, my newborn baby and I spent a night away from home. We went to a a friend’s house for a sleepover (we did face masks and watched Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion), whilst my three-year-old remained at home with my husband. On the train there, I read Claire Lynch’s luminous motherhood memoir Small as the baby nestled into my breast. Lynch’s words went straight to my heart, which felt torn in two by the experience of being away from my sensitive eldest boy. (Incidentally, you can read my review of Small here).

But this time, it was different. After six years of almost exclusive stay-at-home parenting, knowing that my sons were absolutely fine with their father, it was a luxurious thrill to finally be away. I was off for a fancy spa weekend and I knew exactly which book I wanted to take with me: Intermezzo. 

Like many people, I love Sally Rooney’s writing and it has meaning to me.

In 2016, I read an advance copy of Conversations with Friends and was fascinated by Rooney’s ability to distill intimacy on the page. I met Sally for lunch at the Green Goddess in Bloomsbury and liked her very much. Then, I read Normal People during my first pregnancy and, maybe it was same hormones that caused me to cry a few weeks later when I saw an illustration of some owls, but I found myself weeping by page sixty, so moved and saddened by Marianne and Connell’s frustrated relationship. One of the last events I programmed at Waterstones Gower Street before going on maternity leave was the London launch event for the book. Three years later, I read Beautiful World Where Are You?. Once again I was pregnant, and bed-bound by anaemia and severe sickness. And, once again, I was spellbound by Sally Rooney’s writing.

I do not give a shit about the discourse around Sally Rooney.

I could not be more disinterested in all the hot takes out there. I don’t want to discuss Sally Rooney as A Cultural Phenomenon. I’m not interested in talking about Sally the Global Superstar Author. I’m interested in the likeable, reserved, intelligent woman I met in 2016, whose writing I deeply admired and I continue to admire. All I want is to read her actual writing; to hear what she has to say, and not the rest of the internet. My enjoyment of her books feels private and personal to me, which is exactly why Intermezzo was the perfect companion for a weekend I was sharing with absolutely no one but my best friend of twenty-four years. A weekend during which I did not have to think about anyone else’s agenda – neither my children’s nor Sally Rooney’s Thousands of Other Readers On Twitter and In The Media.