Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #411021 in Books
• Published on: 2003-04-01
• Original language: French
• Binding: Paperback
• 90 pages

Synopsis
It is 1797 and Napoleon's Army has entered Venice. Among them is one Johannes Karelsky, a violinist. For now he is a soldier, but his ambition is to write the most beautiful opera ever written. He finds himself billeted with an old man called Erasmus, a violin-maker. One evening, Erasmus decides to tell Johannes the story of his life. And settling into his favourite armchair, with a glass of grappa in his hands, he begins his tale of the black violin.

Customer Reviews

beautifully composed
This is Fermine's third book in what is dubbed his 'colour trilogy'. It's central theme is not necessarily music, but the trials and tribulations of making it, of finding inspiration. The protagonist strives towards making the perfect opera, something he realises cannot do without having lived it first, and entwined within this is the tale of Erasmus: a tragic love story, shrouded in magic, and overshadowed by Erasmus's love for music and worship of the mysterious black violin.
I would recommend reading this book to anybody. It is very short, and simply written. Though this could at once be seen as a draw back, it is also the book's saving grace. The simple choice of words give the book a certain confidence and weight, bordering on the biblical.
This is not a book that will change your life but it is beautifully composed, and a joy to read.

Cynical, hollow and cheap.
This is a poorly written (and translated) story.
The central metaphors linking females and violins are not sustained.
The sparse narrative style really works in some similar stories (I am thinking of "Silk" particularly), the prose has been boiled down so much that what is left is meaningless and stilted. Any lyricism has been lost in translation.
The story is awkward, obvious and the protagonist baffling.
A very cynical piece - saccharine and vacuous.

Lovely book, shame about the proofreading
An intriguing and magical tale of passion for music, the artistry of the instrument-maker and the dehumanising effects of war. A short and thoroughly enjoyable read.

The Acorn Book Company is a small press making really lovely books at a decent price. I would do almost anything to see publishing like this continue in the face of the mass-market juggernauts of the publishing world. But despite the pleasing cover, the tactile paper and the careful typesetting, one thing seems to have been forgotten. We don't just look at books. We also read them. And, Acorn Books, you need a proofreader. Too many errors in spelling and punctuation (even to the extent that they obscure the author's meaning in places), spoil the reading experience, and this is why I gave the book only 4 stars.