When we get entrenched in something that takes so much of our day, be it work, a significant other, or the curious amalgamation of the two in the form of our “craft” (be it writing, playing music, dancing or whatever), we often fail to see anything else.  As someone who went to school for classical guitar and English, I picked up Glenn Kurtz’s Practicing: A Musician’s Return to Music.  I figured “Hey, I lapsed from guitar too and need to return!  I like to write too!”  But even I, in my love of these simple joys have trouble at times delving into the indulgence of Kurtz’s writing.

His tacit statement of genius is part of the affect of the book.  I get that.  His descriptions of the music and practice are excellent, and if nothing else, perhaps that is his true genius, even when he can be bogged down in technical details that only a player could truly appreciate.  “The Inner Game of Tennis” talks about Tennis strokes, but it’s hardly only applicable to that field, right?

Trouble is, Practicing never decides what it wants to be.  Is it a memoir?  Is it really just cataloging a journey (one that gets muddy around his trip to Europe)?  Is it a book about the artist’s challenge as human?  Through the end, one is never clear on what the point is.  In a society so prone to oversharing, it’s hard not to feel as though this is one giant well-written nostalgic blog post.  I’m not knocking Kurtz’s writing–it’s very functional–and hey, I’d read the blog.  I know the pain of losing contact with your instrument.  I understand the constant tension between achieving and faltering and being an artist or a worker trying his art.  I merely wonder if this book helps that understanding along or his instead is merely an affirmation of the sentiment.

Anyway, because of this huge part of my life, I tend to read books that either have to do with music or my other love (modernist literature, particularly turn of the 20th century British lit).

Luckily there has hardly been a better time to be into the former as there are a few great new books for me to suggest that you read (as usual click the cover to check it out at www.BetterWorld.com ):

The one most recently reviewed in the Sunday New York Times Book Review: Grand Obsession.  This text, by Perri Knize describes her search for the perfect piano that takes her on a journey all over geographically and mentally.  It’s an entertaining and engaging story that will have you longing to play, be it chopsticks or Chopin.

Not being a piano player didn’t take away from my enjoyment of Grand Obsession, but I certainly was more apt to pick up Practicing: A Musician’s Return to Music.  I’ve heard great thing but haven’t cracked this one open yet.  I’ll review it soon for those of you itching for a book about a classical guitarist who returns after years away from the instrument (tell me almost everyone doesn’t regret not continuing their _____ lessons as a kid).

Last is a book I’m just getting through right now called This is Your Brain On Music. This book approaches music with a far more scientific approach than the previous two.  This book deals with layman’s versions of how the brain works in it’s approach to listening to, reacting to and generally engaging with music.  Anyone who can understand the haunting quality of a single note or chord or finds themselves playing the same songs over and over needs to check this one out.