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hannahduff's review against another edition
dark
emotional
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Diverse cast of characters? No
rachelgertrude's review against another edition
4.0
This is a beautiful depiction of the life of Clara Schumann, the world-famous pianist made even more renowned through her marriage to the composer Robert Schumann. I enjoyed every moment of this book, more for Galloway's adroitness at capturing impressions than for a fast-moving plot. Clara's story is a captivating one because she is constantly pulled between the chance to grow as a pianist and performer in the world and being a devoted mother and wife at home. Born and bred with an amazing talent, Clara nonetheless has a deep humility and capacity to learn from the others in her life - such personalities as Mendelssohn and Brahms. Throughout her husband's long-time mental illness, she remains his faithful supporter and promoter, and often works behind the scenes to keep her family well-fed and cared for. In this book I found a character I could admire and learn from.
I think that any modern woman could relate to Clara's struggle: ought she, as some encourage, to put away her own gifts in order to be her husband's supporter and a homemaker? Or should she, as her father advises, put aside her desire to marry Robert and instead pursue a more prestigious but lonelier career as concert pianist? Clara reconciles these apparently mutually exclusive paths in a way that I find admirable, showing that there is more to her person than the roles that she fulfills.
“A pianist must develop more than technique, more than musicianship, more, even, than luck. She needs the capacity to deny fear. Passion one might take for granted: its control is the medium through which all else flows. That every emotion evolved by music is created through containment is a commonplace. For all the shimmering details of this reflection, then, the depth of her training is the only thing that shows.” -pg 5
I think that any modern woman could relate to Clara's struggle: ought she, as some encourage, to put away her own gifts in order to be her husband's supporter and a homemaker? Or should she, as her father advises, put aside her desire to marry Robert and instead pursue a more prestigious but lonelier career as concert pianist? Clara reconciles these apparently mutually exclusive paths in a way that I find admirable, showing that there is more to her person than the roles that she fulfills.
“A pianist must develop more than technique, more than musicianship, more, even, than luck. She needs the capacity to deny fear. Passion one might take for granted: its control is the medium through which all else flows. That every emotion evolved by music is created through containment is a commonplace. For all the shimmering details of this reflection, then, the depth of her training is the only thing that shows.” -pg 5
balancinghistorybooks's review
3.0
Janice Galloway is an author whose work I very much admire, and have often been blown away by. I spotted her historical novel, Clara, whilst spending some vouchers in Waterstones, and just could not bear to leave without it. It oddly took me quite a while to actually pick up the book, despite loving everything of Galloway’s which I had read to date. Clara, a historical novel, and the recipient of the Saltire Scottish Book of the Year Award, is quite a change from the very contemporary work of Galloway’s which I am used to. It has variously been called intense, powerful, and brilliant by reviewers, and is described as a ‘lyrical and vibrant account of two remarkable and highly dramatic musical careers.’
The novel is based on the life of Clara Schumann, the celebrated nineteenth-century concert pianist. Schumann also worked as a composer, teacher, and editor, and was a friend of Brahms. She married Robert Schumann, who suffered from ‘crippling mental illnesses’, and the couple had eight children together. Clara was born to the Wieck family in Liepzig, to musical parents, and went on to be considered one of the best composers of the Romantic age.
With poetic language from the outset, Galloway’s third novel introduces Clara in a beautiful and memorable manner: ‘Her eyes are wide… Look hard as you like, they don’t change. The depth of those eye sockets, the slab of her brow is how she is arranged, that’s all… So far as can be managed, this face is blunt. Inscrutable. As it should be. A pianist must develop more than technique, more than musicianship, more, even, than luck. She needs the capacity to deny fear.’ Galloway’s prose marches on in this manner, and she proves time and again that she can capture so much using just a few words. She writes, for instance, ‘… her unmade bed, its spill of pillows; the window, the single chair.’ Galloway’s writing is often stunning, and rich with the images which it evokes.
Galloway, too, is practiced at capturing sound and touch in a sensual manner. When describing Clara’s playing as a child, she writes: ‘During the day, all day, the music rises. Standing over the practice room ceiling, upon the floorboards of elsewhere, she can feel it buzz beneath the soles of her canvas shoes. Music makes sensation, it vibrates along the bones.’ The novel is evocative, sad, and vivid in almost equal measure. In the first of the novel’s eight parts, Galloway focuses on Clara as a small child: ‘Some children can lie so still you’d think they’d stopped breathing, and this one’s better than most. She lies in the dark like a dead thing till the dark sucks her in and she supposes that is sleep. It never seems like sleep. It seems like waiting.’
The novel’s composition has been delicately and expertly handled, and it moves forward chronologically in time, charting Clara’s growth both in a physical and musical manner. Galloway handles her primary material with tact, elevating it until it feels fresh and new. Regardless, the novel is rather a long one, and I feel as though Clara would have had far more impact had it been shorter, and perhaps consisted of less parts. Although its plot has been well arranged, there were some sections which added little to the overall novel.
Galloway captures so much here, and she undeniably does it well. It did get to the stage, however, where I began to wonder if she was describing everything in too much detail. Whilst nice enough to read, a lot of the minutiae which has been included is unnecessary, and contributes very little to the novel in the grand scheme of things.
Clara appears to be distinctly under-read, with under 250 ratings on Goodreads, and just a handful of reviews. There is a lot of substance to the novel, but never does it become saturated or difficult to read. I was pulled in immediately, and for the first hundred pages or so, was reluctant to put it down. For me, though, Clara felt far more realistic in her incarnation as a child than she did as an adult. There was something about her adult self which simply did not feel convincing.
However, I did find that parts of the novel became a little repetitive, particularly with regard to Robert’s episodes of mental illness, and the effects they had on Clara, as well as Galloway’s descriptions of music. I also found it a little odd that Clara was not always the focus of this, her own story; attention shifts to Robert as soon as he is introduced, and Clara becomes almost a secondary character. I wish she had been given far more agency. I was fascinated by Clara and her story, but my interest was not always sustained due to the continual shift of focus onto Robert. This, for me, was a real shame, as I was fully expecting to love Clara when I began to read it.
I love Galloway’s experimental prose style, but do not feel as though it suits a work of historical fiction. Galloway’s writing sometimes felt too modern for the story, and in that manner there are slight jarring clashes which become more apparent as the novel goes on. It is an ambitious book, but for me, Galloway did not quite pull everything together in a satisfactory manner, and there are a manner of ambiguities which remain. Regardless, Clara Schumann was a remarkable woman in many ways, and I would certainly like to learn more about her in future.
The novel is based on the life of Clara Schumann, the celebrated nineteenth-century concert pianist. Schumann also worked as a composer, teacher, and editor, and was a friend of Brahms. She married Robert Schumann, who suffered from ‘crippling mental illnesses’, and the couple had eight children together. Clara was born to the Wieck family in Liepzig, to musical parents, and went on to be considered one of the best composers of the Romantic age.
With poetic language from the outset, Galloway’s third novel introduces Clara in a beautiful and memorable manner: ‘Her eyes are wide… Look hard as you like, they don’t change. The depth of those eye sockets, the slab of her brow is how she is arranged, that’s all… So far as can be managed, this face is blunt. Inscrutable. As it should be. A pianist must develop more than technique, more than musicianship, more, even, than luck. She needs the capacity to deny fear.’ Galloway’s prose marches on in this manner, and she proves time and again that she can capture so much using just a few words. She writes, for instance, ‘… her unmade bed, its spill of pillows; the window, the single chair.’ Galloway’s writing is often stunning, and rich with the images which it evokes.
Galloway, too, is practiced at capturing sound and touch in a sensual manner. When describing Clara’s playing as a child, she writes: ‘During the day, all day, the music rises. Standing over the practice room ceiling, upon the floorboards of elsewhere, she can feel it buzz beneath the soles of her canvas shoes. Music makes sensation, it vibrates along the bones.’ The novel is evocative, sad, and vivid in almost equal measure. In the first of the novel’s eight parts, Galloway focuses on Clara as a small child: ‘Some children can lie so still you’d think they’d stopped breathing, and this one’s better than most. She lies in the dark like a dead thing till the dark sucks her in and she supposes that is sleep. It never seems like sleep. It seems like waiting.’
The novel’s composition has been delicately and expertly handled, and it moves forward chronologically in time, charting Clara’s growth both in a physical and musical manner. Galloway handles her primary material with tact, elevating it until it feels fresh and new. Regardless, the novel is rather a long one, and I feel as though Clara would have had far more impact had it been shorter, and perhaps consisted of less parts. Although its plot has been well arranged, there were some sections which added little to the overall novel.
Galloway captures so much here, and she undeniably does it well. It did get to the stage, however, where I began to wonder if she was describing everything in too much detail. Whilst nice enough to read, a lot of the minutiae which has been included is unnecessary, and contributes very little to the novel in the grand scheme of things.
Clara appears to be distinctly under-read, with under 250 ratings on Goodreads, and just a handful of reviews. There is a lot of substance to the novel, but never does it become saturated or difficult to read. I was pulled in immediately, and for the first hundred pages or so, was reluctant to put it down. For me, though, Clara felt far more realistic in her incarnation as a child than she did as an adult. There was something about her adult self which simply did not feel convincing.
However, I did find that parts of the novel became a little repetitive, particularly with regard to Robert’s episodes of mental illness, and the effects they had on Clara, as well as Galloway’s descriptions of music. I also found it a little odd that Clara was not always the focus of this, her own story; attention shifts to Robert as soon as he is introduced, and Clara becomes almost a secondary character. I wish she had been given far more agency. I was fascinated by Clara and her story, but my interest was not always sustained due to the continual shift of focus onto Robert. This, for me, was a real shame, as I was fully expecting to love Clara when I began to read it.
I love Galloway’s experimental prose style, but do not feel as though it suits a work of historical fiction. Galloway’s writing sometimes felt too modern for the story, and in that manner there are slight jarring clashes which become more apparent as the novel goes on. It is an ambitious book, but for me, Galloway did not quite pull everything together in a satisfactory manner, and there are a manner of ambiguities which remain. Regardless, Clara Schumann was a remarkable woman in many ways, and I would certainly like to learn more about her in future.
exlibrissaskia's review against another edition
5.0
Before reading Clara, I had never known about Clara Schumann’s artistic talents. In addition, I was unfamiliar with the genre of biofiction, only having read either biographies or novels. However, I found the reading experience to be very enjoyable and interesting due to some pre-existing knowledge regarding the subject matter of classical musicianship. Many names, mostly composers’, throughout the book I knew because of my personal experiences playing their works on the flute. I was astounded by the vast artistic network Clara was a part of and by her accomplishments as a musician. Furthermore, the expression of her thoughts and feelings by Galloway’s beautiful prose added to the perception of the highly creative minds of Clara and the people surrounding her. Also the way in which the author conveyed Robert’s confusion and erratic behaviour, at times even visualising it by mixing lines from sheet music, lyrics and stray thoughts (114f.) was especially effective in giving insight into the character’s mind.
One of the most significant tropes in the book is Clara’s ability to practice self-control, while at the same time refusing to be oppressed and being ready to make unconventional and bold decisions. Taking into account the strict teachings of her father who, “Before he knew what she was, who she was, he knew what she would be: the greatest pianist he could fashion, his brightness, a star.” (23), her later dutiful and obedient life with her husband seems like a continuation of the father-daughter relationship. Of course, the kinds of life Friedrich and Robert want for Clara are vastly different. Friedrich wants his daughter to restrain her romantic feelings towards Robert for the benefit of becoming a great concert pianist and not to settle down to family life, which at the time were mutually exclusive for a woman. Robert on the other hand wants her to give up her career and be a devoted wife and mother, leaving public artistic endeavours to him. She makes the decision to follow her heart and elopes with Robert, thus defying her father’s control once and for all but placing herself under Robert’s. Though she supports him and largely complies with his wishes such as not playing the piano in the house so as to not distracting him, she is aware of her amazing talent and never intimidated by her husband. Clara knows for example that she can provide for the family when Robert’s income does not suffice and insists on a tour to Russia, much to her spouse’s dismay:
Damn it to hell, Russia, and all Clara’s fault. The value of the rouble, our finances, the prestige of St Petersburg, my strength and youth, the second time they have asked me, such invitations may not come again, her logic impeccable, chilling to the bone. Besides he had promised. The day after their wedding, his birthday gift to her as he held her hands: a Russian tour for certain. What was he to say now? Russia dear Christ in February! He would die. (230)
In my opinion, Galloway gave Clara a strong voice and depicted her as a woman with a tremendous amount of passion on the one hand and an admirable sense of self-control owed to the different societal roles she has to fulfil. When Clara looks back on her life in the very beginning of the book, she talks about musicianship saying, “Passion one might take for granted: its control is the medium through which all else flows.” (5), which is applicable to her career, as well as her marriage, her children and even her relationship to other musicians.
One of the most significant tropes in the book is Clara’s ability to practice self-control, while at the same time refusing to be oppressed and being ready to make unconventional and bold decisions. Taking into account the strict teachings of her father who, “Before he knew what she was, who she was, he knew what she would be: the greatest pianist he could fashion, his brightness, a star.” (23), her later dutiful and obedient life with her husband seems like a continuation of the father-daughter relationship. Of course, the kinds of life Friedrich and Robert want for Clara are vastly different. Friedrich wants his daughter to restrain her romantic feelings towards Robert for the benefit of becoming a great concert pianist and not to settle down to family life, which at the time were mutually exclusive for a woman. Robert on the other hand wants her to give up her career and be a devoted wife and mother, leaving public artistic endeavours to him. She makes the decision to follow her heart and elopes with Robert, thus defying her father’s control once and for all but placing herself under Robert’s. Though she supports him and largely complies with his wishes such as not playing the piano in the house so as to not distracting him, she is aware of her amazing talent and never intimidated by her husband. Clara knows for example that she can provide for the family when Robert’s income does not suffice and insists on a tour to Russia, much to her spouse’s dismay:
Damn it to hell, Russia, and all Clara’s fault. The value of the rouble, our finances, the prestige of St Petersburg, my strength and youth, the second time they have asked me, such invitations may not come again, her logic impeccable, chilling to the bone. Besides he had promised. The day after their wedding, his birthday gift to her as he held her hands: a Russian tour for certain. What was he to say now? Russia dear Christ in February! He would die. (230)
In my opinion, Galloway gave Clara a strong voice and depicted her as a woman with a tremendous amount of passion on the one hand and an admirable sense of self-control owed to the different societal roles she has to fulfil. When Clara looks back on her life in the very beginning of the book, she talks about musicianship saying, “Passion one might take for granted: its control is the medium through which all else flows.” (5), which is applicable to her career, as well as her marriage, her children and even her relationship to other musicians.
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