Mark Salzman

bookbox; second book with the same title - and that one featured a cello too. In this one, Renee is a child prodigy of the cello, home schooled and moved to Germany to pursue his studies. He doesn't know how to do anything except practice and do concerts, until his gift abruptly leaves him. Struggling as a college music teacher and privately teaching cello lessons, he's just marking time until two things redirect his life. First he is chosen as a jurist for a murder trial and he gives in to become the teacher/mentor to a Korean boy, who has the potential, like him in his early years, to be an extraordinary cellist. During the novel, Renne has some growth himself, no longer torturing himself for not being concert material any more. and strangely, tutoring the Korean boy who was not as limited as him, helps him move forward with his life.… (altro)

An unflinching look at the paradox of redeemable human beings who commit unredeemable acts. The author develops as a teacher while we witness the challenges of the classroom. What is writing for? the book asks. It is for self-discovery. We cannot make the effort to write without revealing something about ourselves. What jumps out from these pages is the poignant relationships established between these desperate boys and their writing teacher. Also a sad commentary on the 1990s attitude toward criminal justice.… (altro)

This is a beautifully written book that is ultimately sensitive and perceptive about the cloistered life. Yet, as much as it *is* about a nun, it is not. Salzman lets the universal truths of our humanity blossom throughout the book, without being preachy or cliché. Sister John of the Cross's waking dreams are the key not just for the protagonist, but for the reader as well. The end did seem to be abrupt, in terms of narrative flow, but it is one instance where the lack of conclusion seemed apt. A good read for anyone who is devoted to a passion and has crafted a life around that passion.… (altro)