The Song of Names by Norman Lebrecht (4 of 5)

Martin 'Mottl' Simmonds finds his life transformed three times by the sudden entrances/exits to/from his life of brilliant violinist Dovidl Rapoport.  It is these transformations - the idea that one person could so exert an influence on another - that is at the heart of The Song of Names by Norman Lebrecht.  Dovidl's first entrance on the stage of Simmonds' life is the most believable, shaking up his pre-war London childhood world of benign neglect.  As the Nazis rise in Europe and Rapoport's family disappears in the maw of the Warsaw ghetto, Simmonds takes on the responsibility of companion and muse, nursing his friend's musical talent.  All the while he happily takes his place as second - just outside the spotlight that shines ever brighter on his friend both at home and in the musical world.

When Rapoport flees his seemingly bright future, Simmonds stumbles through life - mediocrity defines him.  Without the shining light of Rapoport, his music, and the force of his personality, Simmonds pursues nothing, simply moving forward because time does.  On a regional sales trip, through a quite (perhaps overly) elaborate series of events, Simmonds rediscovers Rapoport.  He faces the emotional damage he suffered as a result of Rapoport's escape and is, as a result, emboldened, confronting both his past and his future.  When Rapoport disappears yet again, Simmonds is free - free of his past and free to pursue any future he wants.  His wagon unhitched from the brilliance of a virtuoso, he can merely be.  

That one person could so profoundly affect another seems hard to fathom, yet it remains a fascinating idea.  Lebrecht constructs the novel in such a way, that the reader can believe it.  Rapoport is tormented by the loss of his family and his people at the hands of the Nazis, so is it any harder to imagine that Simmonds could be shaken to his core by the loss of the man who roused him from the slumber of an unhappy childhood?  The circumstances of the disappearance, reappearance, and final disappearance may test the limits of patience a bit, but the effect it has on Simmonds's character is a great subject to explore.

Lebrecht also does well what I love most in historical fiction.  The layers of reality underneath the fictional story demand exploration.  I read this on paper, and I am glad of that.  Otherwise, the narrative would have been constantly interrupted as I looked up references, events, and people.  I ended up fascinated by the twentieth century masters of classical music, a world I have very little interest in normally.  The lives and deaths of great talents, some because of the Holocaust, created both a great backdrop for the intricacies of the Mottl/Dovidl relationship and a window on a transformative period in history.  And Lebrecht shows its transformative effect on the world of European Jews, on Britain, and on culture.  As it is, I have about fifteen folded pages to go back and look up references for.

Something to savour after the book is done.