The Noise of Time by Julian Barnes

I loved this book. It’s blessedly short because, as is always the case with this magnificent writer, every single word counts. It’s the type of book you need to savour, because it’s not about story, it’s about a psychological state. The book is about Shostakovich and his life in the Soviet Union. It is well researched and uses the facts of his life as a basis for a psychological exploration of how this famous composer dealt with strictures of living in Russia at that time. From that point of view it is fiction, almost like historical fiction I suppose, but better. I was completely fascinated with the relationship between the musicians that were living there at the time and the blind, clumsy-minded power of the officials running the union. Barnes has captured the fear that ran through everyday life like a mineral lode through rock. There was no rhyme or reason to officialdom’s decisions and there was no predicting their behaviour. What astonishes me is that any of these composers like Shostakovich or Prokofiev managed to produce what they did. This was a fascinating insight into living and working under a totalitarian regime.