Customer Reviews

The Music Room

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(15)
3 star:		(12)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

I couldn't wait to read this book. Its description was compelling: a memoir from a boy who grew up in an English castle surrounded by a moat whose family life was ravaged by a brother whose personality is deranged by epilepsy.

Yet I found the book oddly sterile. When I got to this passage in the book, I realized why:

"I didn't question the world as I found it: our wide moat and gatehouse tower, the medieval chapel above the kitchen, the huge uninhabited rooms to the west and the parade of strangers that passed through them each year; the way our house was divided into two parts, one private, the other open to public view. I didn't question my brother's seizures or the frightening and unpredictable swings of his mood from gentleness and warmth to opposition and violence -- these were just facts I grew up among, how things were."

Yes, Mr. Fiennes is very good at describing how things were in his childhood. But I never felt drawn into how he experienced, how he felt about, the way things were. I wanted a little perspective on this unusual upbringing. And, although the book is billed as a memoir, the author has really written a biography of his brother, not his own story. It was a chasm that I just couldn't leap.

On top of that, Mr. Fiennes intersperses long, dry passages recounting historical experiments with electricity and the brain, electrical impulses being the link he makes with his brother's malfunctioning brain. This literary device further removed me from the author. He also switches between past and present tense, a choice that continually left me scrambling to find my place in time. And he tends to begin a good story, then abruptly leave it -- like when he hears mysterious noises behind a hidden door in a remote part of the castle. Did he run away or did he open the door?

If you're an Anglophile (as I am), you'll enjoy the descriptions of the author's surroundings. If you like to read about science experimentation (as I do), you'll also enjoy the scholarly parts of the book. Just be aware there's quite a moat between you and the author. It's best to concede that's just how things are.

Hardly ever does one have such a pleasure as while reading "The Music Room" a memoir by William Fiennes.

The book is built around two characteristics from the author's childhood; two most memorable things that made the mark on his life. One is his elder brother Richard's illness, affecting family life to the utmost degree. The other is their family dwelling, a castle built in the Middle Ages, which reached its final form at the times of Tudor dynasty.

The author's unusual family circumstances would perhaps already make a great story. The way he tells the story adds a lot to the whole - the form of his narrative, gentle, subdued, very English, but deeply emotional. The childhood memories of the house-castle, used as a setting for costume movies and guided tours, with the moat harboring fish and herons, and with hidden passages and uninhabited room are intertwined with the record of the progress of Richard's epilepsy and scientific notes on the history of brain research (very interesting per se). The descriptions of Richard's struggle with the debilitating illness and the attitude of the family are incredibly moving, tender and realistic. I can relate very well to the worry, love, care, exhaustion and tension created in the family when one of its members is ill. I could find all these feelings here, the picture magnified by the fact of being the memories of a child (Richard was William's senior by eleven years), intertwined with happy reminiscences of fishing, roaming the grounds surrounding the house and explorations of the house itself. William's loneliness emanates from the pages of this memoir, but he also holds no grudge, the love for his parents, Richard, and the other two siblings (who are less of a presence here) is almost palpable.

Interestingly, I remembered W. G. Sebald when I was reading "The Music Room" although Sebald is cooler and more distanced, less focused on relationships, there is equal care for form and detail.

I think that "The Music Room" is one of the rare books written honestly and delicately, balanced and moderate but poignant and memorable. Although the book is not voluminous, it remains with the reader for a long time.

This is a soft, subtle and quiet read.

Although I found the subject matter of this touching memoir to be very unique and interesting, I'm sorry to say that on the whole it did not keep me completely engaged. The author's detailed reflections on growing up in an ancient moated ancestral castle were often tedious and boring. Perhaps an anglophile would appreciate the wealth of details more than myself but in that regard this memoir just wasn't my cup of tea. That is not to say that THE MUSIC ROOM is not well written because it is. For the lyrical quality of its language alone I give it four stars.

What I did find very moving and which kept me reading until the end is the author's most sensitive and tender treatment of his elder brother's severe epilepsy and the impact this devastating illness had on his family, as seen through the eyes of the author as a young boy growing up in an enchanting environment. Like one of the rich tapestries hanging on his castle's walls, this memoir is woven with personal stories and recollections of a family living with severe epilepsy as well as bits of the history and science behind a deeper understanding of the illness.

Even though parts were too slow for me I'm still glad I read it.

Every once in a great while, I pick up a book, read the first paragraph, and immediately realize that I'm in for a big treat. "The Music Room" is one of those books. The story in this memoir is very simple. A young boy lives on one of England's great, old estates, passed down for hundreds of years through his father's family. He roams the great, unused halls, goes boating on the moat, visits the servants in the cozy, warm kitchen. Romantic and luxurious, right? Not really. Without realizing the implications, he watches his mother endlessly polishing the carved wood mantels and staircases; the family's life is constantly interrupted by festivals on the grounds and theatre productions; and his father is constantly writing grant applications for funds to keep the house in repair. The house is his father's heritage, both a source of strength and a burden.

At the same time, William's family's daily life is dictated by his older brother Richard, who after a serious epileptic attack in his teens, is seriously damaged physically and emotionally. Richard is a person of great charm, unpredictable moods, and murderous rages. Yet the author loves him, as any younger brother would love the older. Young William muses over the description of Richard as "damaged," as if there existed some other version of Richard that's not damaged. To him, Richard is Richard. The author also traces the history of neurological research into brain disorders, and the discovery that electrical impulses play a key role.

It's a lot to pack into a slim memoir, but Fiennes does it wonderfully. This book is gorgeously, beautifully written, every page. Check out the first page. You'll see.

The author's details about growing up at Broughton Castle with his much old, epileptic brother, is at the core of this memoir, which is both very personal and beautiful, and oddly distant. I think the main issue is that at times he is trying to capture the wonder of growing up in a fairy tale castle complete with moat, from almost the perspective of him as a child, and also trying to figure out what is wrong with his brother, and then giving us more information with the benefit of adult hindsight, and clinical detachment.

I loved the hint of ghosts and the magic of the music room and I love the cover of the book, it is so atmospheric, though a picture of the actual music room might have been better, but I think the whole book, while beautiful, could have benefited from a bit more editing and a clear narrative thrust.

The passing of his brother and the end section are over almost in the blink of an eye, leaving you disappointed. The gorgeousness of the language gives way to an almost textbook narrative, so that I am not really sure what journey I have been on with the writer. I would have preferred something a bit more clearly profound than his conclusion and 3 pages of bibliography on epilepsy.

Still, many lovely prose passages make this memoir of childhood a treat.

I liked THE MUSIC ROOM: A MEMOIR quite a bit though I can see why those not particularly interested in its themes might find it slow going and even confusing. This is a slim novel but each word is so carefully chosen and placed that it is not a quick read.

William Fiennes tells us of his childhood growing up in a castle with his older brother Rich who sustained frontal lobe damage resulting in a serious seizure disorder and sometimes difficult, aggressive behaviors. Having spent a lot of my career working with developmentally disabled adolescents Rich's disability and its effect on himself and his family is intrinsically interesting to me. Fiennes does a good job of showing the loving side of Rich who can be charming even though it is always clear he has "problems". Rich gains our sympathy with his touching obsessions with the herons on his family estate and the Leeds United football team. Fiennes does not gloss over Rich's troubled and even scary side which likely could be better controlled these days by new medications. By my calculations Rich lived from around 1959 - 2000.

As a fan of Du Maurier's REBECCA with its great estate Manderly as well as the novelist Victoria Holt's books that often center on great British mansions I was intrigued to find out what living in such a home would be like in modern times and Fiennes gives us the details. He curiously never names his ancient family castle that comes complete with moat and has been used as the location for several famous movies as well as being open several afternoons a week to the public during the warm weather months. I did a little internet research and quickly found his home is Broughton Castle and also found an interview with Fiennes where he states he deliberately did not name his home as he wanted it to be able to stand for all castles and he also knew that anyone could do what I did and find out the name and location in a few quick internet clicks. Fiennes also includes some excerpts in his memoir concerning the history of research in brain electricity and the relationship to seizures such as Rich experienced and I personally did not find this enhanced the book though others will disagree. However all in all this is a well rendered memoir by someone who had a childhood quite out of the ordinary.

The Music Room, by William Fiennes, is a memoir of the authors childhood growing up in a 700 year old castle in England, as well as a tribute to his older brother Rich, who had epilepsy.

Fiennes writes beautifully, perfectly describing every detail of his familial castle, from architecture to decor, inside and out. He remembers the caretakers who worked at the castle and of ghost sightings also. He paints a colorful memory of birds, especially herons, and plant-life found near the moat that runs near the castle also.

As a toddler, the authors brother Rich began suffering with seizures, assumed at first to be associated with fever. As the years passed, the seizures continued and intensified in duration and frequency, up until an episode of Status Eplepticus left the boy with an uncontrollable rage and loss of short-term memory. After that, nothing was quite the same at the castle as the family walked on eggshells to prevent upsetting the brother and enduring his wrath and temper.

The book moves chronologically, intertwining tales of the castle and the progression of epilepsy the authors brother endured, with interesting and informative medical science discoveries as it pertains to the brain, electrical waves and the invention of EEG.

Overall I found the book to be enjoyable. I only gave it four stars because I could have put the book down at any time and never picked it back up again. Rushing through the book wouldn't have made any sense anyway, as it's not an edge-of-your-seat thriller, but a-few-chapters-before-bedtime read. If you are looking for a story that is informative and easy, this is it.

This is one of the best memoirs I have ever read, interesting and moving. The setting, a 700-year-old moated castle, and the author's older brother, suffering from severe epilepsy, provide an unusually interesting background for the author's memories.

The author grew up in Broughton Castle, in Oxfordshire, England. It sounds like a fascinating place to live, but not particularly romantic as much of the family's energy is spent preserving the old crumbling buildings and their furnishings. And the author certainly doesn't put on any airs, his descriptions of his mother and father and siblings never mentions their titles or position. Instead we see them as very human as they deal with the many medical problems of Richard, their oldest son.

The author skillfully weaves a history of epilepsy into this memoir and gives one a fuller appreciation of the scientific struggle to understand and treat this illness.

This book is a remarkable achievement. Highly recommended.

William Fiennes writes of his childhood in a 700 year old moated castle. The castle is a magical environment for a child: alive with history, beauty and mystery. During the time of this memoir, the castle is home to William, his parents and his older brother Richard. Richard is 11 years older than William and suffers a severe form of epilepsy. Richard's illness and his energy levels (both positive and negative) very much influence the rhythm of this family and this influence become stronger as Richard grows older.

Interspersed with recollections of his childhood, William has included his own journey towards understanding brain injury and other influences on the mind. Reading this memoir was in part to visit the castle and meet its inhabitants, to conserve current life and to imagine times past. But more importantly, for me, was journeying with William in his quest to understand the mechanics of brain function while observing the marvels of the mind.

This is a bittersweet memoir. Much of it - especially the observation of Richard - is recounted through the accepting and generally non-critical eyes of a younger brother. Similarly, the fact of living in a home with 700 years of history is recounted with both a simultaneous acceptance of what it means and a keen observation of what it is.
I enjoyed reading and reflecting on this book.

Jennifer Cameron-Smith

The Music Room, an intimate and very personal memoir of William Fiennes' childhood is one of the most interesting reads yet this year. Fiennes' memories of growing up in a castle are vivid and reflect the recollections of a mind that didn't miss many details of the environment that surrounded him. In fact, the book is deceptive in that regard. While not a long read, the reader is constantly surprised at the level of description that is included.

In a home with battlements, swords, armor, hidden rooms, one can easily see how a child would be influenced....the imagination runs wild with possibilities. Fiennes recalls how he always seemed to end up in the castles music room from which his mother often played the viola. William has a special fascination with the metronome which for him has a special meaning.

While there are many books written by celebrities and near celebrities that recount stories of how dysfunctional their early lives were because of this reason or that, The Music Room isn't one of those. The book does include the story of William's older brother Rich, who suffers from a condition that brings on seizures, and eventually forces the family to remove him from the home altogether. Fiennes has a special way of writing about his older brother that immediately allows the reader to sense the special bond that exists between siblings, especially brothers. The epilepsy isn't so much the problem as are the drugs that attempt to control it. Readers may also recognize how families are controlled by the suffering of one of their own. Rich has high points in which his poetic spirit rises and in doing so raises the family but then come the seizures and the entire family is gripped by the suffering.

The Music Room is an enriching and inspiring read.

I highly recommend.