Well, it is not as long as A Suitable Boy, and not as broad. As in Seth's previous novel the sections are subdivided into short mini-chapters, making it a readable, episodic, easily digested work (as was the case, we found, with A Suitable Boy).

It is an unusual story -- or perhaps it just seems that way because Seth does not make it particularly believable. Michael Holme, second violinist with the Maggiore Quartet, finds the love he lost ten years earlier, the now married pianist Julia. They had ben madly in love when they were both studying in Vienna, but Michael had up and left, and though he recognized what he lost (after the fact) he had been unable to get in touch with her again until finally their paths cross in London.

Their love, which apparently never died, is rekindled. She travels to Vienna with him and his quartet to accompany them as a pianist. Michael and Julia travel to Venice. She is torn betweeen her old love and her family (she not only has a husband, but a seven year old son, and a dog). Fate has its way with them. Oh, right, and it turns out that -- tragedy of tragedies for a musician -- she has gone practically stone deaf over the past years (though she has become a damn good lip reader).

Melodramatic indeed. Fairly mellow, too, though less dramatic. Seth generally writes well enough to sustain interest in his sappy story, but he does try too hard for the poetic generalization now and then. There are other, more serious problems with the novel. His characters are incredibly flat. We could hardly tell the quartet members apart until well into the book. One is a woman, one is gay, one has a family, one composes on the side, one is loud and opinionated -- that is pretty much all we learn about them. Their conversations, when not about music, are almost singularly uninformative, and their backgrounds and history is largely glossed over as belonging to an unspeakable past. Dialogue dominates the book, but in this and all regards it is almost always seems just slightly off.

Worse is that the central relationship, between Michael and Julia, does not truly come alive. The story is narrated by Michael and he tells the reader of his deep and profound love, but it does not entirely convince. We never really understand why they broke up in the first place, though his running off is constantly being brought up. Julia, tragically deafened, also remains flat, even as the subject of his passion. Her choice -- Michael or family -- is only superficially explored, presented instead as now she loves him, now she doesn't. The bed-hopping in fiction is often unrealistic, but Julia's initial jump here when they are reunited seems so without foundation that we found it difficult to empathize with either of them. If she were besotted with Michael we might understand, or if she were a real hussy, but she is neither. She is meant to be simply in love, but love is never this simple.

More unfortunate still is Michael who acts and acts out annoyingly, as well as succumbing to attacks of nerves at significant moments (make him seem even more of a weakling than he already is -- not at all offset by his seemingly forced attacks on authority). We have some sympathy for his great love, but so often he ruins it with his petty actions that we did not care all that much how it turned out for him. His and Julia's love never truly seemed a love that had to be.

The deaf angle is a bit annoying, and certainly unlikely, but we'll give Seth that. Certainly he does quite well with the music in the book, blending it in, rarely going on at too great a length (though non-musicians might find a bit too much information on retuning the lowest string on violins and violas for their taste). The pieces chosen (especially one chosen for a record deal) are interesting and fairly well explained, though Seth sticks to a very conservative classical canon.

The message of the novel, it seems to us, is that art -- be it music, poetry, or fiction -- is as great, as deep, as true, as important as love, and can be as redeeming. This is, of course, absurd. Seth, who often succeeds with his art, fails in conjuring up the human counterparts to guide his fiction, and the art he falls back on is insufficient to redeem or convince. That is certainly the greatest failing of An Equal Music. There are artists who can sustain a work without peopling it, but Seth's art, though competent, is not high enough to do this. (The competing true love in the book, Michael's violin, is an interesting idea (and by and large more believable than his mindless obsession with Julia), but ultimately does not satisfy either.)

An Equal Music is a decent enough light read, and for those without too much ambition and some time to fill we can certainly recommend it as a divertissement. Sadly, it is a flawed romance.