Random observations: (1) This is more introspective than I’m comfortable with (this from the guy who just yesterday raved about Sarah Perry’s introspective novel, Enlightenment). (2) Authors of historical novels often succumb to the temptation to make the past similar in important ways to the present and the characters prescient; here, to the author’s credit, the past, that is, Palestine (or Eretz Israel) in 1936-39, is, to borrow a phrase, truly a foreign country, and his characters are remarkably clueless about what the future holds. (3) The author succeeds where other authors of historical fiction who try what he does often fail. That is, he tells the story from five different perspectives, all in first person, and the voice of each character is actually distinctive and suited to their personality. (The five voices are four German exiles who form a string quartet and a writer who observes them and admires their music making. Oddly, the writer’s section is the most wordy, the least focused, seeming to wander aimlessly–but see (7) below.) (4) The author also succeeds in getting us invested in characters–all of them with sizable egoes–who are not particularly likable, and with whom, I’m guessing, he mostly disagrees. (5) The main themes–these German Jews’ ambivalent relationship to their German and Jewish cultures and, more generally, the relationship between art and the broader culture–are very interesting ones but become repetitive, even a little tedious. (6) The immersion in the world and language of music and chamber music performance would lose many readers, but those of us who are not professional musicians but have enough background in music to get most of it can congratulate ourselves when we read parts that we know (or suspect) many others will not get. (7) Is the cynical conclusion of the writer character the novel’s takeaway? That is, “The world of our times is a woman whose reproductive organs have been removed. Love is extended egoism. Our actions are absurd. Our failures are pointless. Patriotism is an illusion; language lies. All that exists is music–the last gasp of Western civilization” (355). And, “After the total collapse of Western values, there is no point in publishing coherent novels with a solid architectural structure, which is, if anything is, an expression of the belief in those very values” (355).