 |
An opening scene backgrounded by Mozart's Requiem, which he wrote for his own funeral, predicts a lot of death in this book. A scientist, Duilio, who is about to present to science and church colleagues his findings on the "Total Synthesis of Human Beings," goes missing. The last person to see him is the famous conductor, Ludwig Mann, who is nervous about a series of concerts his manager has set up for him with Ludwig's pianist friend, Tiffany. She has been trained by a Korean mystic and musical expert. Ludwig's manager and lover, Josephine, receives partial project funding from church officials. How all of these situations and relationships are connected is the source of intrigue, collusion, and murder.
Presented as a play in one act, the story must be taken as a whole with all parts intertwined. It resembles a conspiracy, a unified story that tantalizes. The pacing, too, lures one in. With their endless supplies of money, the prestigious players are always on the move and travel the world to rendezvous and rehearse. Their powerful positions in science, the Church, and the arts infuse the narrative with high stakes stress, creating a relentlessness that drives the plot forward with no dull or unrelated moments.
As a play, all the action comes through dialogue. Setting descriptions and background come in italicized stage directions. This stark distinction between speech and its delivery simulates a distrust between words and deeds. Characters are duplicitous. Josephine is kind and supportive to Ludwig yet pursues her own agenda behind his back. Duilio is two-faced, showing one side to science colleagues and another to the Church. Church officials kill anyone who betrays them with gruesome precision.
The book showcases evil in order to advocate for another way. Music suffers due to its manipulative behavior. Ludwig and Tiffany's wishes to devote themselves to practice and performance are hampered by pressures placed on them by those for whom they make money. Fantastical elements, such as telepathic mystics and giant predatory birds, are sinister and entertaining. However, they make one view the overall cynical story with a grain of salt, undermining how it uplifts humanity.
Tiffany and Ludwig, the primary protagonists, are key to the book's serious and death-defying message. With his research, Duilio raises questions: what makes a human a human, and, if science knows the answer, can it reproduce human life? Against the debate around these ponderings (and who gets credit for the outcomes, science or the Church), the musicians keep making music. In the face of characters using and backstabbing each other, Ludwig and Tiffany insist on striving for pure sounds that come from the heart. Their grit is believable and admirable and gives the story credence and depth.
Having written on scientific and arts topics for years, the author brings all her expertise to the fore in this grand, operatic tale. It overwhelms and leaves readers breathless, opening minds to the consequences of current controversies about lies and truth and artificial intelligence. With Mozart's double sonata and not the Requiem played in a convent, the book ends on a hopeful but tenuous note, reflecting a half-hearted victory for humanity.