Harriet Constable

I struggled to rate this one because while the setting and imagery were spectacular, the ending doesn't quite match the energy of the rest of the book. But 18th century Venice is one of my specialties and I genuinely enjoyed the trip. Even Casanova has a brief cameo, not having been banished from Venice yet. It's a fun name drop, although his scene is interchangeable with any salonnière at the time.

But Anna Maria is no ordinary girl with lofty dreams. Even as a child, Anna expresses a show more pathological desire to achieve greatness; to "be remembered." Her ambition barely suppresses the emotional void left by being abandoned. Her aggressive and, at times, violent intrusive thoughts reminded me of "Black Swan" or "Pearl." I wanted Anna Maria to make that inescapably drastic leap. Even the death of a friend doesn't stop her. But the ending was too soft. The reveal doesn't shatter her as much as it should have, considering the build up. Nor does it make up for the mistakes she's made and the girls she piteously stepped on. Vivaldi being her mentor with grooming intentions was an intriguing take, but his final act you definitely see coming.

However Anna Maria's synesthesia makes for beautiful descriptions. The interplay of music and colors might make me go back and give this 4 ⭐. These sections were a feast for the imagination! show less

"In 1696 a baby was posted through the wall of the Ospedale della Pietà, an orphanage in Venice. She was named Anna Maria della Pietà and became one of the greatest violinists of the eighteenth century. Her teacher was Antonio Vivaldi."

"This girl had notes before she had words, and those notes have always had color."

“A composer is a translator, connecting people to that which they cannot voice, that which they may not even know. It is a bridge between sound and emotion, mere humans and show more God.”

“Music has the same potential. The ability to control the emotion, the will, the memory of the audience.”

"They play what it means to be a girl in this world. The fame and devastation, the fear and exhilaration, the rush of ideas and the crush of silence."

"We have a collection of disabled and disfigured female orphans to thank for the most famous piece of classical music on earth: The Four Seasons."

I learned so much while reading The Instrumentalist. I kept looking bits up online to see what was based on fact, theory, rumour, or none of the above. I loved the story of Anna Maria. Her passion, her desire, her talent, her determination and hard work. As well as her friends and her experiences. I did have this uncomfortable feeling throughout that she was going to be taken advantage of in some way, but luckily, the result of that feeling was less severe than I was expecting. Overall, a very enjoyable read with plenty of new knowledge gained. show less

This is one of those books I really struggled to review (as evidenced by how late this review is actually being published, compared to the original date on the draft which has been waiting patiently for me to hit that "post" button for several months). On the one hand, I am always interested in narratives aiming to re-centre women, their experiences, achievements and fights for freedom after literal centuries of them being hidden, sidelined, and forgotten. On the other hand, I have been show more growing increasingly frustrated with "feminist" anything (be they retellings or historical fiction books) which seemingly use it solely as a marketing tool (and I do think that's mostly to do with sales strategy rather than individual authors' positioning). I have said this before, and I will say it again for as long as it's needed: having a female protagonist does not make a book inherently feminist

Although I'm by no means an expert, I enjoy classical music and, living very close to Venice, was immediately intrigued by the premise of this book, and longed to learn more about Anna Maria della Pietà and Vivaldi, two historical figures I wasn't very familiar with beyond what is generally well-known. Sadly, my expectations fell mostly flat. This was due to a variety of reasons including the writing style, which I found to be highly repetitive and simplistic, unchanging even as time passed, so that Anna Maria spoke and thought like an adult even at the age of 8. I did like the fact that Anna Maria is described as having synesthesia, and I enjoyed the descriptions of vibrant colours while she played the violin. I was entertained enough to finish this, but by the end I was deeply frustrated and sad at another missed opportunity.

The Instrumentalist is based on the true story of Anna Maria della Pietà, an orphan raised at the Ospedale della Pietà, a brilliant violinist who displayed her musical prowess as a young child and was taught by Vivaldi, who also composed pieces specifically for her. This premise held incredible potential, telling the story of a woman who fought for her place in a patriarchal, misogynistic society, a talented musician relegated to a footnote in musical history. And yet...

I have a few issues with this book, but my main one is the character of Anna Maria herself. She is not simply unlikeable - which would be fine, unlikeable people exist and they often make for very compelling main characters. Anna Maria is essentially a proto-girlboss, single-mindedly ambitious and ruthless to excess, to the point that she comes across as inauthentic. I will happily accept that some of these character traits would fit Anna Maria's circumstances more than generosity of spirit and kindness - it was a ruthless world after all. Where I draw the line is having an 18th century child worry about being "professional", feeling concerned by being average or behind her peers, or barging into her highly acclaimed teacher's office, making demands. This just feels lazy, as though taking a modern woman and inserting her forcefully into a historical setting.

This is compounded by one of the other main issues I had with this book, which is the way in which Vivaldi's character is constructed. There is very little development there, as he is the object of Anna Maria's adoration and fantasies of success for the majority of the book, only to be revealed as an opportunistic, abusive and cruel man, who full-on steals Anna Maria's work for himself - and nothing less than La Stravaganza and the Four Seasons, his most famous works.

Now, I think we can all agree that certain men in history have been idolised and paraded as geniuses with probably little reason. And we can also agree that women's contributions have frequently been overlooked or downright ignored. However, it is quite different to suggest that a composer's most famous works were actually the fruit of his protégé's work and stolen by him for his own greatness, effectively reducing him as a one-note villain. Especially when, as the author's note admits, some events and timelines were shuffled around "for dramatic purposes".

Just as it's not enough to have a female protagonist to write a feminist novel, it is disingenuous to write male characters either as the driving force behind a woman's accomplishments or as evil villains standing in the way of their success. Which brings me to another point: despite the novel seemingly aiming to bring to light a successful woman's forgotten achievements, Anna Maria still exists only in Vivaldi's shadow, either as his star pupil or as a victim of his own ambition. Her actual, historically documented, successes and the efforts that must have been needed to get her there are never shown: she is a prodigy, knowing how to play from the moment she picks up the violin and, despite the odds being stacked against her, she tends to get what she wants. For me, this diminishes Anna Maria's achievements rather than celebrating them: her work is not worthy of being remembered if it cannot be linked directly to a man's most famous creations, even if it becomes necessary to force historical events to make it so.

The other female characters in the book are almost non-existent except as fillers. Friends are discarded once they seem to be weighing down Anna Maria, then forgiving her for all kinds of awful behaviour without ever needing her to make amends; and the other girls are either too incompetent for her to be bothered with them, or rivals needing to be annihilated. To be clear, I wouldn't expect something like "female solidarity" or "sisterhood" to appear as it would also be anachronistic. But the "figlie di coro" were professional musicians and composers in their own right, highly trained and renowned as one of the best orchestras in Europe at the time. To erase all of them and celebrate Anna Maria as the sole genius, demonising the previously revered male genius and substituting him with her, thus perpetuating the same patterns of idolisation without ever challenging them, ultimately feels like a betrayal and a missed opportunity.

I received an e-arc of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley and as part of the readalong organised by The Tandem Collective. This did not affect my opinion of the book in any way. show less

In 1696, a destitute and desperate mother deposits her baby “through the wall of Ospedale della Pietà,” an orphanage in Venice administered by nuns. The child, Anna Maria della Pietà, receives a rudimentary education, performs menial chores, eats unsavory meals, and rarely has an opportunity to breathe fresh air or socialize with outsiders. Her sole comfort is the friendship of a few children with whom she forms a close bond. At the age of eight, she takes up the violin—the Ospedale show more della Pietà was renowned for nurturing its orphans’ musical gifts—and before long, she exhibits so much potential that a well-known maestro decides to give her private lessons. As the years pass, she tries her hand at composing, and she secretly helps her teacher create pieces that he will pass off as his own.

Harriet Constable’s “The Instrumentalist,” is a moving and atmospheric novel that is based on factual events. This dramatic tale traces the peaks and valleys of Anna Maria’s life as she grows from a child to a driven adolescent obsessed with becoming a world-famous violinist and composer. Unfortunately, her mentor is an insecure and vain man who exploits his prize student’s talent for his own purposes. Furthermore, Anna Maria becomes so consumed by ambition that she prioritizes her determination to succeed over her loyalty to the orphans who love her. The author paints Anna Maria as exceptionally gifted, but also naïve, anxious, and emotionally stunted.

“The Instrumentalist” is multi-dimensional in its scope. Constable explores the affluence and poverty of eighteenth-century Venice, where the wealthy adorned themselves with fancy clothing and jewels, while their impoverished counterparts scrambled to put a roof over their heads and feed themselves and their families. This dramatic story also deals with the fierce competitiveness and ego of aspiring musicians; the powerlessness of many females, who, throughout the centuries, have too often been at the mercy of arrogant and spiteful men; and the potential of beautiful music to transport people and transform their lives. This beautifully constructed, lyrical, and gorgeously descriptive novel will engross readers with its searing social commentary and its heartbreaking depiction of the ways in which recorded history gives short shrift to the accomplishments of brilliant women. show less