A novel in stories about the women constellating around one man, a jazz trumpeter named Circus Palmer. Palmer is reaching a moment of catastrophe, his career has reached a plateau, and his womanizing ways are turning on him, beginning when his real love, Maggie, a drummer and long-time colleague and lover, confesses she has become pregnant by him--and he responds by running for the hills.
Author Laura Warrell has a fine eye for detail and her ear is keen, she has such a feel for the sensuous. The writing is virtuosic--especially remarkable when she describes the player's relationship to his music, not an easy thing to do and making me wish there were more chapters on Circus and music less on the random women who have fallen under his spell. Only Maggie is a musician--and that relationship is the most interesting, the most evenly matched--though there is also a talented male music student who is on the rise, throwing more salt into Circus's wounds.
Most of these women suffer from the same malaise--falling under the spell of this unavailable, charming chaser with little idea who and what he really is. Warrell expertly captures the excitement, the draw, both for Circus and for the lover, of lust's rise--but inevitably followed by debilitating and deluded need, at least on the woman's part. The repetition on the various bodies and psyches of new lovers and old, the various stages of disillusionment and obsession, is both fascinating and sobering.
Though Circus is at the center of the book's gravitational system, the main character proves to be his neglected, vulnerable daughter Koko, a teen trying for connection. Her need for the absent father makes perfect sense as the engine of the book-- but as usual in these multigenerational novels, the adults are more interesting. Her damaged mother, Pia, is probably Circus' most obsessed victim, and she becomes more interesting on the back end of the book when she tries to free herself from his hold.
Music infuses every Circus chapter, both the way he plays, and the way he thinks. Here's a girl Circus is picking up: "He decided he liked her voice, off key as it was and snapping. There was a loose tempo inside it, an undercurrent of sound struggling to find pitch. He liked hearing it the way he liked hearing an orchestra warm up."