Fictional biography of Erik Satie and family and friends. Kept me engaged all through. I really like his music and was thrilled to find this book at the library! ( )

This is a fascinating fictionalized account of the life of Erik Satie and his family and the Parisian art scene during the first half of the 20th century. Told from the points of view of Erik, his sister Suzanne, brother Conrad, and a close friend Philippe (based on the poet LaTour) we learn about the relationships among family members and bohemian artists of the time. The Satie family was torn apart following the death of the mother when Erik was very young, and the siblings never really recovered from that loss, each in a unique way. Horrocks's writing is masterful and pulls us into the characters and the art world, making for a memorable novel, with the added benefit of learning about the very quirky composer. ( )

I usually enjoy books that use several different narrators, as does this one. The novel centers around French composer Erik Satie and three important people in his life, his sister Louise, brother Conrad, and friend Phillipe, an émigré writer-translator from Spain. The Satie children were abandoned by their widowed father, moved from Paris to live with their grandparents in Honfleur; Louise was then separated from her brothers, sent to live with a childless uncle and his wife. Although the youngest, as an adult, Conrad, a perfume chemist, lived the most "normal" life and helped his siblings out of many difficult situations. If you know Erik Satie's music, it probably isn't hard for you to realize that he was a bit of a bohemian in Belle Epoque Paris, focused on producing something new to the musical world. Louise's story is the most engaging. Her musical talent was limited by her gender and her circumstances. She rejected an arranged marriage with a boring doctor who later used every possible opportunity to seek revenge upon her. Eventually, she marries for love, but her happiness is short-lived. On Conrad's advice to put some physical space between herself and her losses, she moves to Argentina, but poverty and loneliness move with her.

Overall, I enjoyed this book and felt that it gave a good representation of the Parisian artistic world and the excesses of the era. It makes the point that everyone, including Conrad, had a cross to bear. It was a bit hard to connect with the character of Erik, but that may have been intentional as Satie apparently had difficulty connecting to others in his real life. Although he is at the novel's core, The Vexations is really more a book about family, friendship and loss than about music. Music is like a secondary character, a lover that impassions and abandons those within its sphere. ( )

Not good. The timeline was off. Did not like any of the characters ( )

The pacing is slow but the writing is lovely, and the book as a whole is very sweet, if a bit shaggy at times. The characters, Erik Satie and his family and a few people in his orbit ("friends" isn't quite the word) are often obtuse even to themselves and able to connect only in small explosions of affection (except for younger brother Conrad, who is the steadfast rudder of everyone's lives). Still, they're sweet in spite of—or maybe because of—their essential sadnesses. Mothers and sons don't fare well here, although not for lack of love. The final part in sister Louise's voice, about how the dead brush against you softly like fur, is worth the price of admission alone—particularly the passage where she has a clerk in a department store take out all the fur coats and walks among them, just to commune: "Hello ghosts. You are so, so soft."

It's worth having Satie's music in your head when you open the book, even just the Gymnopédies—and if you think you're not familiar with them you're probably wrong. Give them a listen on YouTube. They're very nice and an effective soundtrack to the entire novel. ( )