Illuminations

by Eva Hoffman

Isabel Merton is a renowned concert pianist, whose playing is marked by rare intensity, and for whom each performance is a plunge into the compelling world of the music. At the height of her career, she feels increasingly torn between the expressive musical realm she inhabits, and the fragmented life she leads as an itinerant artist, with its frequent flights, anonymous hotels and fortuitous, arbitrary encounters. Away from her New York home on a European tour, Isabel meets Anzor Islikhanov, a political exile from war-torn Chechnya driven by a bitter sense of injustice and a powerful desire to help and avenge his people. As their paths cross in several cities, they are drawn to each other both by their differences, and their seemingly parallel passions - until a menacing incident forces her to re-evaluate his actions and her own feelings - and throws her into a creative crisis.

In this fiercely lyrical novel, Hoffman explores the luminous and dark faces of romanticism; our often unadmitted need for more than personal meaning; and the place and force of art in a world riven with violence.

Genres: Fiction, Music, Literary Fiction, Novels, Literature

256 pages, Hardcover

First published June 5, 2008

About the author

Eva Hoffman is a writer and academic. She was born Ewa Wydra July 1, 1945 in Cracow, Poland after her Jewish parents survived the Holocaust by hiding in the Ukraine. In 1959, during the Cold War, the thirteen years old Eva, her nine years old sister "Alinka" and her parents immigrated to Vancouver, Canada, where her name has been changed to Eva. Upon graduating from high school she received a scholarship and studied English literature at Rice University, Texas in 1966, the Yale School of Music (1967-68), and Harvard University, where she received a Ph.D. in English and American literature in 1974.

Eva Hoffmann has been a professor of literature and creative writing at various institutions, such as Columbia University, the University of Minnesota, and Tufts. From 1979 to 1990, she worked as an editor and writer at The New York Times, serving as senior editor of “The Book Review” from 1987 to 1990. In 1990, she received the Jean Stein Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters and in 1992, the Guggenheim Fellowship for General Nonfiction, as well as the Whiting Writers' Award. In 2000, Eva Hoffman has been the Year 2000 Una Lecturer at the Townsend Center for the Humanities at the University of California, Berkeley. In 2008, she was awarded an honorary DLitt by the University of Warwick. Eva leads a seminar in memoir once every two years as a part of CUNY Hunter College's Master of Fine Arts Program in Creative Writing.

She now lives in London.

Her sister, Dr. Alina Wydra is a registered psychologist working in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eva_Hoffman

Reviews

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is more of the 4.5 stars variety for me. The story is about Isabel Merton, a concert pianist, who ends up in a relationship with a man involved in the politics of volatile Chechnya. The amazing part of the novel isn't the story, but how the writer has capture the emotions of music in words. There are portions where various thoughts of people attending Isabel's concerts are written in streams overlaying each other, as well as Isabel's own thoughts while she plays and I wanted to shout, "Yes! This is what it is like!" So few people know, and fewer can explain, and Hoffman has.

The book has no chapters, but there are sections of Isabel preparing for concerts in various cities, interspersed with sporadic sections of her in the "in between" (usually while traveling) where she reads the journal of one of her former teachers. There is also the story of her childhood, particularly of her brother, which has a clear impact on her own life and outlook. Because there is no pause, no end, I found it difficult to stop reading, and wanting to start from the beginning when I came back to it. In fact, that would have been an homage to my own piano training, my own teacher who would announce "Again!" after any little error.

Beyond the writing about music, which I connected fully with, is a commentary on what revolution, war, terrorism, and violence mean to us in our current society. Do we take it seriously enough? Does it even matter to us? Do we diminish it or ignore it? Do we take responsibility for our own part? The novel does an interesting job of asking the questions and demonstrating several different answers in the perspectives and actions of several of the characters.

[Heather · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a brilliant piece of literature: eloquent and completely engrossing.

The reader follows Isabel through her tour of Europe and the people she runs into, a la The Portrait of a Lady . This novel is set in modern times, and this Isabel is a classical pianist on a concert tour. She meets a man full of political passion and falls in love with him, bringing questions of the meaning of live, music, and death into our minds.

Woven throughout the novel are entries from Journal of a Summer, a posthumously published journal written by Isabel's former music teacher. In it he writes about her: what he felt after her lessons, what he wished he could have told her. As she learns more about her teacher the person, she begins to understand why he was so angry and focused, something her experiences in the story prepare her for. After feeling pain and experiencing a crisis of meaning, music starts flowing through her and she writes her own composition, appropriately called Appassionata.

I especially enjoyed the jumble of stream-of-consciousness thoughts of different audience members during Isabel's performances, indicating what is on their minds and how the music is affecting them.

One of my favorite lines from the book: "Countries seem to have acquired personalities these days, Isabel has noticed, complete with characteristic features, virtues and vices. More character than most people are given credit for."

[Judy · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful story of contrasts, lovely but tragic, both light and deep at the same time, this was my April selection for my challenge to read a book a month from my old TBR lists. It was one of those books I bought on impulse after reading a review.

The title refers to Beethoven's Piano Sonata No 23. Isabel Merton, a concert pianist, spends long periods on tour in Europe, Australia, South America and even China. Her life is a constant sequence of plane flights, hotels, and concerts. She lives for the performances which take her and her audiences soaring on the wings of music and emotion but is also familiar with the aftermath of post performance let down.

Isabel's life in her hometown New York City involves an ex-husband with whom she is still friendly but about whom she has guilt feelings. The itinerant life of her tours have begun to leave her feeling fragmented and without meaningful interaction with other people.

One night at a party she meets an intriguing man, a political exile from Chechnya. Anzor is high strung, vague about what he actually does, and sexy. They begin a relationship consisting of meeting in various cities where they both happen to be. The physical passion between them is as exhilarating to Isabel as playing music but their backgrounds could not be further apart.

A growing awareness of Anzor's political work and beliefs and his strong connection to his homeland where war rages, brings Isabel to question her whole life and her lack of involvement with the early 21st century world of constant wars and political inequality.

The reader can see that this relationship has little chance of surviving the differences between Isabel and Anzor, but Isabel cannot. When the break comes she is devastated as well as inconsolable. That part was hard to read but Eva Hoffman's exquisite writing brought both her main character and this reader through.

I loved the book because of my own experiences with music but also for the doomed love story. So deftly did the author create it, I marveled at how she did it. The woman has had quite a life herself, emigrating from Krakow, Poland in her teens, working as a senior editor at the New York Times and as a literary critic. She has lived in the shadow of war and political upheaval, she has had the best of educations, and written many books. I want to read more of them.

[Jane · Rating 2 out of 5]

As someone with a strong background in music, this book really fell flat. Hoffman might have used her considerable skill to write a series of essays. The characters and relationships were all underdeveloped. There were hints and descriptions of the main character, Isabel's troubled past but it was as if in a fog or a dream. Perhaps this was intentional. Also, I found her descriptions of people listening to her concerts somewhat realistic and innovative but boring. Isabel annoyingly interprets the world in terms of musical ideas. Does Hoffman think that most musicians are so two-dimensional? Or is it some quirk of Isabel's? Many of the conversations between characters were contrived and just plain unbelievable (a most obvious example would include a "spoiler"). This type of writing separates the reader from the work. One gets drawn in at times, only to be pushed away in disbelief or in trying to untangle abstruse prose. Quotes from the imagined book of her former teacher were a little more believable. The ideas, though, were fascinating. What drives musical passion? How to explain the meaning of music? How/why does it so deeply touch so many people? As well, how to justify living in a romantic world surrounded by severe inequities? How to explain the actions of the political exile? Certainly, these types of thoughts plague me every day. And Isabel's struggles with all of these conflicts are very well described. I really WANTED to like this book! The ideas do stick with me but I don't know if I would necessarily recommend it.

[Jill · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5, because it's beautiful and tries to be thoughtful. It's just thin -- there's no meat to any of the characters, and because it's such a character-thought-driven novel (no plot, just meanderings and conversations), you kinda need some meat. Also a case of tell-don't-show: Anzar bitches poetic about anger and his devastated Chechnya, then flips to being obsessed with Isabel's music playing in direct contrast to his whining, then flips back, but it never seems intentional because there's so much extraneous philosophizing.

Add to that: every conversation was maddeningly predictable: Anzar is going to get pissed off at Isabel and the West. Isabel is going to flit about in her head like a scared bird who can't land on a thought. Anzar will get more pissed off!!! Then he will realize Isabel is hot and they will have sex. And then Isabel will miss him as she is performing a concert. And then the cycle starts all over again. There's other stuff going on (a dead brother; an infuriatingly one-note foil to Isabel named Jane; a bland ex-husband), but who cares. I think there's an attempt at a comment on gender, but it fails because this is one of the straightest books I've read recently tbh -- it thematically hinges on women becoming obsessed with men, and I am just 300% not here for that.

On the plus side: Hoffman's writing is sharp, but melodious. The wrestling with the purpose of art in a legitimately war-torn/illegitimately butthurt 21st century is a timely and important conversation. Hoffman just doesn't get to any depth with her take on it. It could've been good; it could've been great! -- but it wasn't.

[Marvin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the richest, most ambitious novels I've read in a while--and it's not even very long. It's the story of an accomplished, sensitive, innocent concert pianist on a tour of Europe who meets & engages in an intimate relationship with an angry, vengeful Chechen rebel representative. It takes place over just the few weeks of that tour & its aftermath. It's one of those books where the political is intensely personal. It's set on an international scale with big social/political/intellectual issues but at the same time is intensely intimate. It's about many things: the cost of terror and violence vs. the power of beauty; affirmations of -- and radical doubts about -- the importance and impact of art, especially music; the meaning and importance of home (the anomie of rootlessness vs. intense loyalty to one's homeland); longing and loneliness; the question of whether life lived without living for a cause has meaning and what the costs of doing so are; the necessity of "tenderness." All of this and more, and yet it never seems overstuffed. For a novel that's so complex, the prose is intense and mostly pretty direct with a straightforward structure: the pianist is located in one of the cities on her tour and her experiences there are related, with occasional flashbacks; there are "In Between" sections when she's in transit from one place to another; and she occasionally reads portions of a published journal (reproduced here) by an influential teacher, known by his students as "the Great Refuser," whose approach to art was largely determined by his experience as a subject of the Nazi regime in Germany (though apparently NOT as a Holocaust survivor). As enthusiastic as I am about this book, it's a difficult book to recommend. (In fact, I considered giving it 4 stars rather than 5 because, honestly, it impressed me more than it appealed to me, but I decided that a book this rich deserves 5 stars.) Some readers may find it hopelessly pretentious. It's certainly demanding: I had the sense that to fully appreciate it, one would need a deeper knowledge of music, especially 19th-century piano literature, than I have, and my knowledge in this are is certainly well above average; the vocabulary, too, challenged me, and I think my vocabulary is also well above average. But for me, the rich rewards were well worth the effort.

[Christina · Rating 1 out of 5]

music is beauty, beauty is love, love is music. (Repeat ad infinitum)
(Insert plot device) Love interest is Chechen/terrorist who travels as much as protagonist versus predictable academic ex who provides less passionate love than Chechen. (Insert random drama). (Repeat) Anti-climactic ending.
END

[A.M. Ialacci · Rating 2 out of 5]

I like the theme of this book, with the protagonist shaken into a search for meaning. What I didn't like were the characters. Isabel is so naive and so unsure of herself, I wanted to reach into the book and shake her. Her lover, Anzor, is a condescending ass with anger issues, and for about the middle third of the book, I was questioning why she continues her relationship with him.

The author does a pretty decent job on the music-side of things (although once referring to a flute player blowing "into" a flute, which is dead wrong), and I liked her stream-of-consciousness take on what is going on in the thoughts of an audience member. I also enjoyed the resolution of the book, but again, wondered why the main character took so long to get there.

[Tucker · Rating 4 out of 5]

Successful using language to describe what it feels like to hear, play, and compose music. Reminded me of Richard Powers' Galatea 2.2 about a computer that learns to read literature, a story that is also told with a great use of language.

At a concert, audience members’ stream of consciousness is written with slashes like a poem: “Chopin knew, hated the Russians the tyrants the thugs / ah, listen, that line chromatic into the distance, from a distance, transporting, she transports me / must meet her, MUST, McElvoy will introduce me” (p. 14)

[Bruno Zogma · Rating 5 out of 5]

TFW when you have trauma and you need to compose music:

"She doesn't know where this composition is going, how the aural pressures within her will range themselves into intelligible formations; but she hears beginnings of long sinuous lines, and the micro-rhythms of speeded-up time, passages of tender fragility, and of fierce, dancelike affirmation. She senses that this will be a large composition, and that it will contain instruments filled with the moistness of the human voice, and the hard sexual pounding of drums, and electronic sounds without any human breath at all. It will be her 'Appassionata.'"

[CLW · Rating 1 out of 5]

Could not connect with the main character, limited character development. The love interest’s continuous rant over and over made me skim often as well as the loose audience’s thought of the sections.

[Katherine Hebert · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a powerhouse of a book which I should have read at a different time. Beautifully written with a thoughtful end. But just not during a pandemic.

[Dagny · Rating 1 out of 5]

I liked the authors interview but not the book. 1.5 stars

[Grace Jonak · Rating 4 out of 5]

The novel is organized in an interesting form. The statements keep returning like refrains.
Eva Hoffman is a master of expressive writing.

[Tina · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was a thought-provoking, lyrically written novel addressing the dichotomy between violence and love and music and expression, but more so privilege and the result of having too much or too little. Isabel isn’t so much spoiled as lucky and sheltered. She plays piano all day and attends parties afterwards with the social and political elite. Why she’s invited to these parties is beyond me, because she never seems to know what is going on and is kind of a downer. I didn’t dislike Isabel though – her privileged life doesn’t seem to make her a snotty, elitist brat, but she is awfully naïve. And, of course, she gets involved with this volatile, angry, whiner. Now, the last adjective is probably not warranted, because the dude is going through a lot, but, quite frankly, I didn’t like him. He clearly didn’t really care for Isabel – he just wanted to sleep with an attractive woman who found him fascinating (which stroked his ego). He’s not the guy for me, because, a) he never knows how to have fun b) he’s a hypocrite and close-minded. He presumes that Isabel and her friends and her life have less meaning than his struggles, because they're not fighting for her freedom or her life, or anything. And it’s true, she’s coasting and lost and a bit dumb at times, but that’s doesn’t mean that she can’t find a raison d’etre that is practical and fulfilling; not everyone has the proclivity or strength to be a freedom fighter – and not everyone agrees that freedom fighting is a useful use of energy and life. But Anzor doesn’t believe this and Anzor also doesn’t believe that someone born into comfort can understand life as much as he does. He’s as close-minded as he believes Isabel and her friends are. And he might have a point about their perspectives, but he’s also stereotyping and making assumptions just as he claims others are about him. I guess what I really didn’t like about him was that he was a hypocrite.

The novel itself was great though, because it raises these issues and makes you think about it. It’s not a prescriptive novel. Someone could read it and hate Isabel and love Anzor. The author also didn’t vilify either of them to any extreme– you were encouraged to think while you read this novel about the issues discussed. I really enjoyed that aspect of it.

The writing was lovely. Though not a lot happens in the novel, I was never bored or waiting for something more exciting to occur. It was nice to just flow with the novel and really be able to pause and think about the implications, paradoxes and concepts it brought up.

Overall, I liked it. I would definitely read another book by this author.

[Gloria · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is intellectual, psychological fiction with two rather unique themes that alone make it worth reading if they appeal to the reader. I use the word "intellectual" because of both the worlds the main characters operate in (classical performing arts and political diplomacy)and also for the at times unfortunate use of words that are mostly unknown or little used which is offputting. The psychological aspect is more compelling. A female classical pianist grapples with issues of artistic flow and excellence and travel loneliness, all within the context of some bad childhood memories. A male diplomat who is bitter about his ravaged homeland is clearly up to something (which adds a wee bit of suspense), but his main value to the reader is in painting a clearer picture of what it is like to see everything you know blown up and people you love herded to refugee camps, and more. With powerful insight into both the world of performing arts and war's hardships, this is a very slow moving novel written by an author who has lived a bit of both of these lifestyles. As Kirkus Reviews states "The ideas are frequently better-rounded than the characters." The big question this novel attempts to answer: "what possible meaning art can have in a world beset by violence and hatred?"

[Grace · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting but I think ultimately unsuccessful book. The author's training as a classical pianist stands her in good stead, and there are some truly breathtaking passages,at once lyrical and acute, where she writes about the music she loves - particularly Chopin and Schumann. The picture she draws of the itinerant musician's life is also convincing -well-observed and carefully nuanced. But the heroine herself I find deeply problematic, for she never seems to come to life, but, puppet-like, goes through the motions of the rather far-fetched plot at the author's behest. The love affair utterly failed to convince me on any level, and half way into this I was losing patience with it. Despite all the hand-waving in the direction of high romanticism, there is very little genuine feeling in this book. A single passage of remembered childhood pain was the only time the emotion rang true. In the end it goes for melodrama and becomes rather embarassing, like a bad soap opera but without the pizazz. I'm sorry I couldn't like it better, as I have genuine respect for the author's ability to write about music, but that in itself, plus a silly plot, does not add up to a novel.

[Anastasia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a bit different from what I normally read, so it took me about 30 pages to warm up to it. It's very stream-of-consciousness, a bit disjointed. The plot takes a while to really kick in. I felt like everything happened in one giant rush at the end, but for all I know, that was intentional.

To show you how out of touch I am with the "scene," as it were, when I finished the book I thought, "If they made this into a movie, it would be a lot like Lost in Translation." That was when I read the author's bio and realized she DID write Lost In Translation. Oh.

However, just because it's not something I normally wouldn't pick up doesn't mean it wasn't enjoyable. (Is that enough negatives for you?) I wish the first section of the book were shorter and the last bit longer--I like character development, and Isabel's existential crisis was far more interesting to me than the love affair. It was an enjoyable book, but it left me feeling restless and...I don't know, incomplete. Sometimes books have that effect on me, but it's pretty rare. So I guess this is a rare sort of book.

[Jonathan Bennett · Rating 4 out of 5]

You can only really describe this book as a symphony of words, oozing class and sophistication. It reads like a conversation held by rich, well mannered yet pompous socialites.



Like many good symphonies it crescendo's as much as it diminuendo's - this however is not always a good premis for a book.



There is tension within the narrative and the lead character (isobel) is easily identifiable with. However the surrounding characters (most notable Anzor) are weak and inconsistent. And the relationship Isobel holds with him doesn't seem to justify her personal relationship with emotion or equal her intelligence and stature within society.



Having said this, the exquisite delicacy in which this is written certainly makes it worth reading and it offers an interesting portrayal of an artists relationship with music with intricate emotion and detail.

[Anna · Rating 2 out of 5]

I like the theme of this book, with the protagonist shaken into a search for meaning. What I didn't like were the characters. Isabel is so naive and so unsure of herself, I wanted to reach into the book and shake her. Her lover, Anzor, is a condescending ass with anger issues, and for about the middle third of the book, I was questioning why she continues her relationship with him.

The author does a pretty decent job on the music-side of things (although once referring to a flute player blowing "into" a flute, which is dead wrong), and I liked her stream-of-consciousness take on what is going on in the thoughts of an audience member. I also enjoyed the resolution of the book, but again, wondered why the main character took so long to get there.

[Kat · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a novel of ideas. And also a book about music. Since I don't really understand music on this level, this aspect of the book was a bit hard to follow, but I am sure musicians would relate to it. The ideas are art, beauty, history, freedom/independence, culture, etc. For me, the most vivid and moving parts of the book are the exchanges about cultural/historical differences between American, European and Chechen characters. I often found myself, like the heroine, quite unable to respond to the very strong positions expressed by the various characters. I think this book will stay with me for a long time, as there is so much there: from WWII German guilt, to new Europe implications, to modern independence movements (Chechnya and the Basques), to what it means to be an artist.

[Renee · Rating 3 out of 5]

This unconventional novel follows the parallel passions of Isabel Merton, a renowned concert pianist, and Anzor Islikhanov, a Chechen political exile driven by a powerful desire to avenge his people, with whom she becomes involved. Anzor is a frankly unappealing character, whose interminable lectures are a reminder that terrorists make for uncomfortable dinner parties.Other than Isabel, the characters in the novel seem one dimensional; still the writing was very good,and I would read another novel by this author. Perhaps "Lost in Translation".

[Becky · Rating 3 out of 5]

Isabel Merton, an American, world-class concert pianist is passionate about the power of music. But she has become restless & dissatisfied with the itinerant, though privileged, life of a performer. These feelings leave her open to a chance(?) relationship with a Chechen exile/activist whom she meets on a European tour. Anzor is also passionate, but his passion takes the form of rage (violence?) over his country survival and the injustices it has suffered. The encounter challenges Isabel’s feeling about the meaning of art/music.

Sophisticated, intellectual, literary, thought-provoking.

[Andrea · Rating 2 out of 5]

Somehow I thought this book might be a good quick read. I was thinking of Mr. Elfriede Jelinek's (Nobel Prize for Literature), The Piano Teacher. It felt like it was a "wanna be" and indeed it did not hold up. Expected too way too much for sure but I like books about people obsessed by their craft and talents and it some ways Ms. Hoffman provided that except for the very unbelievable and ill thought love story. Falling for a terrorist? (Well, I think he could be classified as a terrorist). Not too smart nor was this read.

[Monica · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not good. I was a serious classical musician and thought it would be wonderful to read about a classical musician and her trials and tribulations. However, the characters are so very flat. Isabel has no dimensions and Anzor is a terrible person. The plot is rather unbelievable, the language is much too flowery and could use a good edit, and some of the musical language she uses is not even accurate! Anyways, it was a quick enough read, but honestly, I felt like i wasted some time reading this book. The only redeeming feature was the ending when she sort of "come into her own".

[BookAddict · Rating 2 out of 5]

Wow -- overall this had so many good reviews and the description was so interesting I decided to give it a try. It is very well written but for me, the characters never really got a voice; as one reviewer/reader said "they were flat and one dimensional." You want to feel the Isabel is dissatisfied and unhappy with her life. You want to feel that Anzor is enraged by the treatment of the Chechens but truthfully - they both come off like whiny spoiled, and even worse; bored, children. By the end of this I could't have cared less what happened to them, I was just glad it was the end.

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

An engrossing journey into the soul of an artist. A gifted pianist, Isabel Morton, is caught up a a whirlwind affair with a mysterious Chechen revolutionary during a European concert tour. You know it's not going to end well, but it does, eventually, as she learns to incorporate the lessons of her life into her art. I thought the descriptions of her thoughts while playing the piano offered a fascinating look into the workings of an artist's mind.

[Elizabeth · Rating 2 out of 5]

I had a hard time finishing this novel of ideas through two too contrived and not fully-developed characters. The juxtaposing of the world of clasical music vs. the political in the guise of a Chechnian terrorist just wasn't believeable to me. I sped-read through much of it - espcially the sections of audience members thoughts while the pianist plays and the journal entries of her former mentor.

[Janice · Rating 5 out of 5]

This interesting story is told in the first person by a famous American concert pianist on tour who meets and begins a relationship with a mysterious Chechian exile. The pianist is single minded on her art while the political exile is just as strongwilled regarding the political clime in Chechnia. I found this hard but very worthwhile reading.

[Allyson · Rating 5 out of 5]

exquisitely moving meditation on love, infatuation, music, and politics. Only a little stumble with some of the dialogue between Isabel and Anzor but so profoundly engrossing in her discussion of music and feeling. I read it in a single day and was very disappointed when it ended.
gorgeous and very sad.