BEST BOOKS ON... SINGING
TWICE in adult life I have relished singing in a choir. The first was a works’ ensemble. Its members, drawn from across a newspaper group, included reporters, desk editors, secretaries, renowned commentators and tabloid marketeers.
One lunchtime a week, it would feel like a vaguely rebellious act to slip away from the robust atmosphere of a newsroom to spend an hour creating harmony.
Later, when, as a freelance writer my spare room became my office, I joined a local choir. I loved the rigour of score-reading after a day of solitary work or toddler-wrangling, but also the connectedness the choir gave me to my community.
Studies have shown that group music-making, singing especially, can be physically and emotionally beneficial: lowering stress, releasing endorphins, improving breathing and posture.
In William Boyd’s sweeping new novel, Love Is Blind, musicianship allows his Scottish protagonist Brodie Moncur to quit the tyranny of his clergyman father’s home, then pursue foreign adventures. Moncur goes to music school to be a singer, but instead becomes a brilliant piano-tuner. Through this work he encounters the love of his life, Russian opera singer Lika Blum.
The cello is, arguably, the love of Eustace’s life in Patrick Gale’s Take Nothing With You. When, for a medical procedure, he must spend 24 hours in a lead-lined room, he brings only cello recordings with him.
In childhood, Eustace’s talent brought him into like-minded company, but also gave him his first taste of failure. Later, he finds comfort in communal playing: ‘Amateur music-making was all about enjoying the pleasure of rehearsals and minimising the pain of concerts.’
Gill Hornby puts relationships, as well as harmonies, at the heart of All Together Now, her life-affirming novel about a beleaguered community choir’s bid to return to song.
As Christmas approaches, I long to be back hitting the high notes like its characters. I left my local choir, but do miss the buzz of the rehearsal room. Recently, an email invited me to rejoin. I’m tempted.