Customer Reviews

Music and Silence

5 star:		(15)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

You wouldn't think the author of Restoration would be able to or need to outdo herself. You wouldn't think the Danish court of the seventeenth century would provide content for such a substantially lyrical and visually evocative narrative of sentiment. From King Christian to Peter Claire, his lutenist, to the men and women whose lives they touch and whose lives they are caressed by, Tremain describes her characters with the utmost sympathy and respect for their individual natures however foibled. Ultimately a brilliant tableau will present itself before the mind's eye that demands above all a celebration of life in all its forms and times, even down to the myriad tragedies of destiny. A personal and philosophical novel that transcends any limitations as "historical novel" and becomes a colorful treatise on the wonder of the human spirit. Sublime.

This was my favorite read of 2001. I hadn't ever read a book by Rose Tremain and merely picked it up because I was on my way to Copenhagen from London on a business trip. I became so involved with each of the characters that I made a special trip to the palace where the fictional story took place, bought postcards of the people on whom the fiction was I presume loosely based, and remembered parts of the book as I passed through the rooms. I also went up the round tower thinking all the time of the storyline in which this tower took part. What I think is so amazing though about this book is not just the historical details but the sexy sense of humor throughout, the understanding of music and the meaning of music in people's lives, and the author's wicked depiction of the king's wife. I really couldn't put it down, longed to get back to it when I did, and mourned the end of the story. I tried to get by book group to read it. It is definitely a book group read. So many characters to discuss; so much history; and so much interesting sexuality! The whole thing was just delicious reading!

I loved reading this book. It is thoughtful,sexy and divine all at once. I found myself underlining bits of insightful wisdom and wishing the story and characters could go on forever.

17th C. Denmark is the setting. The characters are: King Charles IV; his wife Kirsten; Peter Claire, a lutenist from England; and Emilie, Kirsten's newest lady-in-waiting. The background characters are finely developed as well, each playing his integral part as the story unfolds. All is well orchestrated, moving cleanly to an ending where any loose ends are eventually wrapped in a tidy knot.

Peter, the English lutenist, finds himself cast as the King's "angel" when King Charles becomes moody and distressed by his personal loneliness and the impending poverty of his kingdom. At the same time Charles is perilously besotted with the charms of an adulterous Kirsten. Not particularly kingly, Charles IV is rather a sad lump, much in need of aid in any form; he receives this help through the gracious character of Peter Claire.

Then there is Emilie, Kirsten's lady, who wins Peter's heart at their first meeting. But this is not an easy romance, as Queen Kirsten has chosen Emilie as her most trusted lifetime companion. When Kirsten is inevitably banished from the Court for her outrageous misdeeds, she takes Emilie to live in the country as well, now Kirsten's only friend and solace. A durable soul with misplaced loyalty, Emilie becomes an unknowing pawn to the selfish woman's whims.

Will the King find happiness and riches sufficient to support his faltering economy? Will Peter and Emilie be forever lost to one another through Kirsten's machinations? By design, the novel moves from place to place, scene to scene, with seemingly unrelated characters. They are, in fact, all moving toward the resolution of the carefully woven plot, and precise detail lends an appealing ambience to the Court. The answers fall gracefully in line in this meticulously manicured maze where the author remains in control throughout.

This is a wonderful historical novel set in the early 1600s in Denmark. King Christian IV is a decent king (as a result of his boyhood) with growing concerns (perhaps somewhat paranoid) about the financial state of his kingdom. He lives with his ghastly adulterous wife Kristen, and retreats from his daily miseries in his chamber music. The musicians he has are the finest in Europe and they must play for him at will from the unheated basement beneath his sitting room. Enter Peter Claire, an English lute player of fine repute and a beautiful face. Peter falls in love with Emilia, the adulterous queen's lovely young hand-maiden - but the evil queen works to destroy this love (probably mostly because it so real that she envies it).

The tales of the various personalities in this novel are expertly woven and while there is hate and destruction, there is also kindness, true love and some sweet (albeit late) revenge. The reviewer who wrote that this was the stuff of fairy tales has it right. Although this is a fairy tale, it is so well written that the reader can hear the sweet calm of the chamber players' music, can smell the virgin forests in which King Christian and his dear boyhood friend, Bror learn about life and loyalty, and can rejoice in the few moments of true passion in this novel. A wonderful tale of old, very well written, with an excellent story

Rose Tremain's gorgeous novel, Music and Silence, is the best book I have read in several years and one of my alltime favorites, by far.

The book's central character is Peter Claire, an English lutenist, who, in 1629, arrives at the palace of King Christian IV of Denmark to join the royal orchestra. Things are not quite what Peter expected, however, and he is more than surprised when he learns the king requires his orchestra to perform in a freezing cellar, among a group of squawking hens, while the orchestra's exquisite music floats up to the Vinterstue via a series of trapdoors and pipes.

Although Peter Claire is the central figure in this novel, there are many others whose stories are no less important. One of these stories belongs to Kirsten Munk, wife of Christian IV and the "almost Queen" of Denmark. Kirsten despises music and chooses to spend her time either dreaming of the Swedish Count Otto or frolicking with him, whichever the case may be.

Kirsten's favorite lady-in-waiting, Emilia Tilsen, also plays a very important role in this magical book, for Emilia Tilsen and Peter Claire fall in love at first sight on the grounds of Rosenborg, the palace that Christian built for his unfaithful wife. But will Peter's and Emilia's love be allowed to blossom or will it wither on the vine? When the adulterous Kirsten is banished from court, she takes Emilia with her, thus jeopardizing the young girl's future happiness with the English lute player.

Music and Silence is also the story of the beautiful Irish countess, Francesca O'Fingal, a Bologna-born Italian beauty whose husband, Johnny, is the subject of a metaphorical subplot. We learn his story from Francesca via her notebook, aptly named, "La Dolorossa." And, if this isn't magic enough, Francesca and Johnny both have a connection to Peter Claire.

And then there is Marcus Tilsen, Emilia's five year old brother, a fey imp of a child whose thoughts are "plucked from the air" and who seems to possess magical powers, powers that will one day be needed to save the life of Peter Claire.

If these fascinating characters are not enough to keep any reader thoroughly engrossed, we also learn the story of Emilia's father, Johann and his second wife, Magdelena, a bewitching woman who has learned to use her wiles well, but never wisely. Another wonderful character is Christian's mother, the miserly Queen Sofie, a woman whose antics lend much comedic lightness to this gorgeous tale.

Tremain is a master storyteller and a master at characterization. We really come to know each character through the author's skillful first-person narration. While each one occupies a special place in our thoughts, it is Peter Claire who stands at the center, the connecting point from which all the other stories radiate.

While some of these characters are more good than bad, and others more bad than good, none are without both virtues and vices, something that only endears them to us. The Dowager Queen Sofie may be a miser, but she is a comic one. Kirsten may be selfish and self-centered, but she, too, has moments when she finds it in her heart to love unselfishly.

Music and Silence is a lavish feast of a novel set against the fascinating historical background of 17th century Denmark. It encompasses characters of tremendous depth and a wide range of emotion. Tremain's writing is absolutely flawless; the smallest detail is given as much love and attention as is the largest set piece. This elegant and stylish book is an unparalleled accomplishment for Rose Tremain and an unparalleled treat for any sophistical reader. No one could ask for more.

Rose Tremain has developed into a first-rate historical novelist. <Restoration,> which she wrote a decade earlier, was her first strictly historical novel and <Music and Silence> is her culminating point. It is all that one can ask for in a novel. Lovers of intrigue will find riches here, as will fans of romance without the treacle. As historical novels go, this one is rich in terms of story, some would say thin in terms of history. However, historical detail and accuracy is not Tremain's aim here. In fact, whole chapters owe more to the tradition of magical realism than to historical fiction. Tremain is looking to Corelli, Scarlatti and Couperin for her inspiration, with a brief sidebar or two to Marquez. So readers looking for a history fix a-la Uris or Flanagan should look elsewhere.

If comparisons were needed, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to liken Tremain at her best to Mark Helprin at his. Both often take an incident in the historical tapestry and reweave it into something entirely original and bold. They are similar as well in their occasional weaknesses. Some of their characters are beautifully developed, while others are aborted before they gain any real dimension or texture. Neither goes in much for concrete details. Instead, they rely on poetic imagery and color to provide sensory impressions. Both also draw on the tradition of magical realism in that they combine the mythic with the profane, and combine the possible, the probable, the improbable and the impossible in their fictions. For Tremain, <Music and Silence> marks her furthest venture yet into this genre.

The plot of the novel shifts kaleidoscopically amongst figures both real and imagined in 17th century Denmark, Norway and England. Each succeeding chapter offers a juxtaposed narrative, so those looking for pure linear story-telling might be uncomfortable with Tremain's style. However, the narrative never really drifts far afield, and Tremain remains firmly in control, presenting us with a composition that is at once baroque in terms of its spiraling dimensions, and modern in terms of its strange cadences and even its occasional dissonance.

This is the one novel that I am enthusiastically and unhesitatingly recommending to friends and acquaintances when the conversation turns to books. Number One with a Bullet.

Setting the stage in a cellar in the midst of 17th century Denmark, a somewhat deranged monarch assembles some of Europe's best musicians to entertain him year round. As winter falls, the musicians struggle to stay warm as their melodic sounds waft through the floorboards and entertain the king.

The interchanges, the intrigues, are of great fascination. Never would one think they would become some entranced in a story of this nature. But it is one of the most seductive books I have read all year....compelling me to turn each page faster and savor the last several pages...wanting the story to continue indefinitely.

The language is rich, the secrets are many, and the history is a plus.

A wonderful discovery and a must read for the discerning reader not won over easily by today's bestseller and club recommendations.

I am not really sure why i like this book so much. It is an interesting setting, 17th centurty Denmark, and i always enjoy a good flash of a unique historical setting. It is easy to identify and sympathize with King Christian. However, the most fun character is the queen, or his harlot as she calls herself. She is a nasty woman, unloving of her's and all children, virtually heartless, but she is a lot of fun to read. The character interaction and their scheming and the resulting interplay is also a lot of fun. The author does a great of of writing an enchanting, lifelike, 20th century fairy tale. I love it. Amazon predicted i would, but I remain unsure why I do.

I would never read a novel in "historical romance" genre, which is what I assumed _Music and Silence_ was when I first saw it in paperback while living in the UK last summer. One day I commented to a friend (an Oxford postgraduate student in early modern British and European history) that I hadn't read a good historical novel in a while. As a student of early modern English history, I have often been disappointed in an author's research concerning and story development within such a rich and vibrant context. My friend recommended _Music and Silence_ as an antidote to my ennui. I bought the book the next day and didn't want to put it down for the following four. I would have read it faster but I didn't want the book to end!

Having bought it in Britain, I read a different edition from that which most Americans will see; for that I make no apologies. I must say that "The best thing from Denmark since 'Hamlet'" was NOT emblazoned on my copy and I don't see the wisdom behind that marketing tactic. The image--a portrait of King Christian right-side-up and, below it, an upside-down portrait of the Queen--is not only visually appealing, but its significance deepens as the story unfolds. Why the American edition has a different cover mystifies me.

Anyway, since it's been a while since I read the book and I (in a moment of silliness) lent my copy to someone who never returned it, I can't comment in great detail on the strengths and weaknesses of the book (others before me have provided many helpful remarks to that end). To speak of impressions rather than observations for a moment: in response to negative comments about the book's "believability," I would point out that appreciating historical fiction demands that one suspend disbelief in the way one might if seeing a play. Can one "believe" an actor is dying of hypothermia if the room is a comfortable 70 F? Only if one enters into the world the actor creates is such "belief" possible. The point of fiction, as I have understood it, is not to create "believable" characters so much as to show, in narrative, universal aspects of human experience, even in particular or outlandish situations. Books that could just as easily be features on the five o'clock news do not entertain, inspire, or endure. _Music and Silence_, however, does the first two with ease; may it also accomplish the third.