Book Review: The Music Shop

One of my all-time favorite novels is The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, by Rachel Joyce (see my review). Whenever I talk books with a stranger, I recommend it, especially if they exhibit any kind of love for England. Now, if I come across individuals with an intense love of music, I can direct them to this novel, The Music Shop. It is a love song to music. But, even if you are not necessarily a music lover, or not familiar with the pieces mentioned in the book, you will be swept away by this tale of love and loss and reclaimed life.

The premise of this novel is quite like the book I am listening to at the moment, called The Little Paris Bookshop, by Nina George. In George's book, the main character runs a bookshop where he prescribes books to meet every customer's personal needs, serving as a sort of literary pharmacist. In a similar way, Frank, the shop owner in The Music Shop, has an uncanny ability to assess each customer's need for particular music. He sizes them up and makes his suggestions, even providing specific instructions like "Lie down while you listen."

Frank's vision for his music shop is simple and direct. He will only sell vinyl records, despite the growing trend toward CDs (the story begins in 1988). His shop exists with a handful of other small establishments on a crumbling side street, but he takes joy in serving each and every customer. When Ilse Brauchmann faints in front of his shop one day, she ends up leaving with a recording of "The Four Seasons," fresh with Frank's instructions of what to listen for within the music.

Frank hasn't allowed himself to love anyone since the death of his beloved mother, the one who nurtured his deep and abiding love of music. But it feels safe to grow close to Ilse because she has already declared the existence of a fiance. When she begs him to give her music lessons (teaching her about the pieces and how to best experience them), he hesitantly agrees and then pours out his soul to her as he describes his favorite pieces and the ways the music transports and changes him. Unfortunately, both Frank and Ilse carry burdens and baggage from the past. They will need to tap into the healing power of music.

Just as she did in The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, Joyce manages to create a situation where the whole community bands together to rally behind a cause. I don't wish to provide any spoilers, but the community's grand gesture to reach out with the power of music brought me to tears. I relished learning about the music, even when it was unfamiliar (a difficulty remedied when I discovered a note at the end of the book offering a Music Shop Playlist on Spotify - now to figure out how to access Spotify, ha!). I was shocked to learn (at least this is what Frank's mother asserts) that Bach lost his vision because of a botched surgery performed in the market square by a con man posing as a doctor and then Handel went to the same doctor for the same operation with the same results.

Although I still prefer Harold Fry's story, this one definitely tugged at my heart strings. The music interlaced within the story held meaning and purpose. The sympathetic characters were endearing. The build-up to the resolution was dynamic and powerful. I would happily read another offering by this fine author.

Cover love: The cover at the top is the library copy cover, but I also found these other two (my favorite is the bottom one).

For another brilliant novel that presents a love song to music, try The Song of Hartgrove Hall, by Natasha Solomons.