You Spin Me Right Round, Baby: The Music Shop

The Music Shop by Rachel Joyce

(Black Swan)

Pp.354

Frank owns a music shop which only sells vinyl, and he has the gift of being able to find the right music to soothe a person’s soul or mend their marriage. One day a beautiful woman, Ilse Brauchmann (manic pixie dream girl in a pea-green coat), faints outside his shop and they have a relationship. She says she doesn’t listen to music so he teaches her how to hear it. It turns out she was a highly proficient violinist but now has arthritis and can no longer play. And she is engaged to someone else. Of course she cares for him, but the author introduces deliberate (and illogical) stumbling blocks to draw out the story. Frank is not actually all that nice but he’s got lots of friends who encourage him in his romance (Richard Curtis style) including Maud, the tattooist, a woman who has always been inexplicably in love with him, and Kit, an incapable but passionate assistant. It’s very light and fluffy and employs every trope known to rom com, and yet the added appeal comes from the music and nostalgia.

Frank’s finest characteristic is his sense of community with the other shopkeepers. “Here they were, living together on Unity Street, trying to make a difference in the world, knowing they couldn’t, but still doing it anyway.” Ilse is supposedly cute, but immensely irritating. They meet for the lessons about music, in a café called The Singing Teapot, and the waitress becomes involved in their story too, which is charming, delightful, twee and completely unrealistic. Meanwhile, the author tells us everything so there is no room for mystery or suspense.

Music has magical properties, and listening to it can release oxytocin – books are written like this about cookery all the time; all the chapters are named after songs and there is an accompanying soundtrack. The novel contains frequent time shifts as we are cast back to Frank’s relationship with his mother, Peg, who taught him how to really appreciate music. This rapport is more interesting than that with the girl.

Music, especially vinyl, is part of the nostalgic focus of the novel, and it should be enjoyed as an experience. He uses the difference between CDs and records as a metaphor for life (God only knows what he’d make of music-streaming services), refusing to accept that he and his music shop are out of date although several reps and customers stop calling. He maintains that vinyl is messy and fragile, and therefore, more human.

The novel is Notting Hill meets Black Books; it is obviously written with one eye on the film rights, but it will doubtless be taken over by an American company who will change the setting and ruin it (see High Fidelity). Music is closely aligned with memory because it stimulates emotions, and that is what matters. Ilse remembers Frank because, “You didn’t talk about the technique of music. You told me how it felt when you listened.” Love may tear us apart, but music is best experienced together.