Philip Morahan, the pianist of the title, thinks he might be having a nervous breakdown. It is the run-up to a massive showcase concert, and he is unable to practise. Haunted by the death of his best friend’s family in a house fire, stunned by the information that his child was aborted 14 years ago, and threatened by a mysterious illness, Morahan begins to regret the emotional sacrifices he has made to be a great pianist. He sifts though the failures of his personal life, trying to comprehend the paralysis which has spread into the one area over which he has always had control – his career.
Call it a midlife crisis if you like; Morahan’s lust for his pert new agent is certainly symptomatic of one, as is his endless navel-gazing. Although Morahan is a less than sympathetic protagonist, he is devastatingly human, beset by self-pity and insecurities, and constantly seeking approval from the most unlikely places.
Williams’s second novel, like his first, ‘Sex and Genius’, is concerned with the conflict between life and art. These universal subjects are dealt with up close – Williams never over-philosophises, but lets the emotions and memories of a single man touch on bigger questions. Morahan’s struggle to regain his talent by coming to terms with his life is painful, awkward and at times bitterly funny.