Music and Freedom – Zoë Morrison
Genre: Contemporary Fiction, Historical Fiction, Drama
Publisher: Random House AU
Release Date: January 1st, 2016
Format read: Paperback
Source of book: This book was acquired independently by the Reviewer.
Music and Freedom Book Review: A Symphony of Promise That Ends on a Flat Note
TL;DR: I really wanted to enjoy Music and Freedom, and it had all the elements of a story I would usually like. Unfortunately, the second half deflated quicker than the Titanic, leaving me on a sour note.
Introduction: A Story With A Strong Premise
When I picked up Music and Freedom by Zoe Morrison, I had high hopes. A novel that weaves together the life of a musician, an Australian protagonist from the Mallee (a region I have a particular fondness for), and the theme of an older woman seeking redemption and meaning in her life? It all sounded like a recipe for something deeply moving. The idea of a second chance at happiness later in life was appealing. Particularly with its focus on musical knowledge and the trials of an older protagonist. I expected an emotional, thought-provoking journey.
Storyline & Plot: Endless Depression and Tragedy
Music and Freedom initially draws readers in with its promise of redemption and the exploration of a life marked by music, but its tone quickly shifts towards one of overwhelming depression. The first half follows Alice, a gifted pianist, through a seemingly never-ending series of tragedies. From her childhood in the isolated and harsh environment of the Australian Mallee to her oppressive marriage, Alice’s life is a string of misfortunes. The novel doesn’t shy away from depicting the grim realities of domestic abuse and personal suffering. Be prepared to go through death, grief, and emotional isolation in spades.
However, the issue arises when the book leans too heavily into Alice’s tragic circumstances without balancing it with moments of hope. The relentless nature of the first part makes for an exhausting read. Each chapter brings more sadness, making it hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
By the time the second half of the book rolled around, I was hoping for a shift in tone, but instead, it only added to the frustration. While Alice’s journey could have evolved into a powerful story of recovery and self-discovery, the plot begins to drag. The themes of redemption that initially seemed so promising fall flat. Alice’s attempts to rebuild her life become overshadowed by drawn-out sequences of self-imposed isolation. At this point, the narrative begins to feel repetitive. Instead of feeling emotionally connected to Alice’s struggles, the reader may start to feel frustrated with her inability to move forward.
While I understand that not all stories need to be uplifting, the sheer heaviness of Alice’s experience made it difficult to enjoy or connect with. It felt less like reading a story and more like slogging through a catalogue of one misfortune after another.
Characters: Difficult to Like
The protagonist, Alice, is a character who initially evokes deep sympathy and understanding. Her early life and the first part of her journey, marked by tragedy and hardship, make her someone readers can root for. The detailed depiction of her childhood, plus struggles with an abusive marriage, loneliness, and the loss of her musical career create a compelling portrait of a woman who has suffered greatly but remains resilient. As the story progresses into the second part, Alice is still somewhat relatable, as she begins to search for meaning and healing in her life.
However, by the third part of the novel, Alice becomes more frustrating than inspiring. Her reactions to the unfolding relationship between her son Richard and neighbour Emily feel out of place and emotionally exaggerated. At this stage, instead of sympathising with her struggles, I found myself wanting to shake her out of her inertia. Her retreat from society, while perhaps intended to be poignant, ultimately feels melodramatic. It’s a shame, because Alice could have been a powerful representation of personal growth and recovery. But her character arc stagnates in a way that is neither satisfying nor compelling.
Edward, Alice’s husband, is less of a fully fleshed-out character and more of a plot device to move Alice’s story along. His transformation from charming academic to cruel abuser is too abrupt and one-dimensional to feel authentic. While Morrison’s intention to depict an abusive relationship is clear, Edward’s character lacks nuance, making his actions feel more like they serve the plot than reflect real human complexity. His role as the villain is necessary for Alice’s journey. But his lack of depth makes him less engaging as a character and more of a stereotype of abuse.
Other characters in Music and Freedom are similarly flat and underdeveloped. Aside from Alice and Edward, no one else leaves a lasting impression. They exist only to fill in the gaps of the story and don’t offer much in terms of emotional engagement or depth. This lack of complexity in the supporting cast leaves the book feeling hollow at times. The story relies heavily on Alice’s internal world without providing much of external interactions to enrich the narrative.
Writing Style & Effectiveness: Timelines That Fall Flat
Zoe Morrison’s writing is ambitious, and she tackles difficult subjects with raw honesty. Her prose can be lyrical at times, especially in how she describes music and its emotional power. The scenes where Alice connects with music are beautifully written, evoking a sense of longing that draws you into her world. Morrison also has a talent for conveying the stark, unforgiving landscape of the Australian outback. She paints a vivid picture of Alice’s early years in the Mallee.
However, despite these strengths, the structure of the narrative complicates the reading experience. Music and Freedom relies on multiple timelines. While this can be an effective literary device, here it becomes more of an annoyance than a help. The back-and-forth between Alice’s time in London with her abusive husband and her later years in feel disjointed. Rather than enhancing the story, the timelines interrupt the flow and make it harder for the reader to become fully immersed in Alice’s journey.
The decision to introduce Alice’s later life in Currabin early on is particularly puzzling. By revealing her future too soon, the tension and emotional weight of her escape from her abusive relationship are dulled. I was less invested in her struggles because I already knew she eventually makes it to safety and achieves some form of closure. This could have been handled much better if the later Currabin section was reserved for the book’s final act, providing a more satisfying resolution and a more impactful emotional payoff.
Another writing issue is the subplot involving Alice’s son. The mystery surrounding who Alice is calling throughout the book is built up early on. Only to be abruptly dropped and resolved in a way that feels anticlimactic. It’s revealed halfway who is the person Alice has been trying to reach. But the random calling is given so little attention afterwards that it feels almost irrelevant.
Morrison’s writing shines in certain moments, especially when depicting Alice’s connection to music and her internal monologue. However, the overall structure and pacing of the novel overshadow this. The book’s emotional depth is compromised by its disorganised timeline. Also, the author’s tendency to linger too long on Alice’s despair without offering enough balance in terms of hope or growth.
Final Thoughts
Music and Freedom had all the ingredients to be something great. A thoughtful exploration of redemption, the power of music, and a relatable protagonist. Unfortunately, it was bogged down by an overbearing sense of tragedy and a disjointed timeline that removed much of the emotional weight from the story. The characters, particularly Alice, became less sympathetic as the novel progressed, and the plot lost its way by the end.
If you’re looking for a story filled with light and hope, this isn’t it. For me, the book started strong but ultimately left me feeling disappointed.
Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
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