Partita

LoveReading Says

With a graceful structure mirroring its title (partita refers to a form of composition comprised of contrasting movements), Barbara Kingsolver’s latest masterpiece amounts to a stirring orchestral suite that connects coming-of-age experiences, mid-life reflection, social class, profound loss, and profound love, and all this comes in the wake of an extraordinarily arresting opening line: “Here’s my question. How does a person step in front of a train and leave everything right there? Inhale, no exhale”.

The person in question is Livia’s brother, who died after stepping in front of a train when she was just eleven. In the wake of this traumatic loss, Livia immerses herself in music, later securing a scholarship to music college. But while music and college bring the joy of feeling she’s on the brink of a new life, her rural Tennessee upbringing sets her apart from her peers.

Then there’s the first time she lays eyes on Sigurd: “Shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow, well-fitting jeans worn soft at the knees on a body that didn’t sit around thinking for a living”. 

In the present Livia is back working as a music teacher where she grew up, married to a man who used to work on her father’s farm. And then comes a call from Sigurd, the handsome stranger she’d ended up having a passionate, destructive affair with. The man who’d played a part in curtailing her chance to become a piano virtuoso.

Blazing with raw rage and intimate reflection, Partita is a perfectly-composed story of hopes, regrets and longing, and a perfect example of the power of character-driven literary fiction that cuts to the core of the human condition.

Reviewed by Joanne Owen
Joanne Owen’s lifelong love of reading and writing began when she was growing up in Pembrokeshire, and very much wished that witches (and Mrs Pepperpot) were real.
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