2024/021: The Conductor — Sarah Quigley

The rehearsal room stretched to accommodate the music, and the music filled the whole city, and the empty fields and desolate woods beyond. It rained down on Russian and German soldiers crouched in their trenches, stripping them of both fear and purpose — and then, surely, everything would be all right again... [loc. 3948]

Another novel about the Siege of Leningrad, to follow The Lost Pianos of Siberia (not a novel, but sparked my interest in the Siege with a handful of unsettling references) and The Siege, Helen Dunmore's critically-acclaimed novel about ordinary folk and how they survived the 900-day Siege, during which over a million people died of starvation or hypothermia. The Conductor may be mistitled: it felt to me as though the central character was Shostakovich, writing his Seventh Symphony during wartime, trying to evoke the spirit of Leningrad. But I could equally argue that Karl Eliasberg, the conductor of the Leningrad Radio Orchestra, is the man who makes possible the Leningrad premiere of the Seventh Symphony. Quigley at one point has Shostakovich, feeling affinity with Eliasberg's 'inner severity', say "I need the conductor. He's the listener I need."

Quigley focuses on three key figures: Shostakovich (driven, passionate, extremely disparaging about other composers); Eliasberg (moody, shy, lives with his mother); and violinist Nikolai Nikolayev (widower, devoted to his daughter). Of the three, I think I liked Shostakovich most -- I expect quite a few of his caustic comments come from published material -- but yes, it's Eliasberg who changes most over the course of the novel. He pulls together what's left of his 'second-rate' orchestra (the Philharmonia has been evacuated); doggedly pesters the Party for better rations and the conscriptions of anyone capable of playing an instrument; is the first person to hear, in a private session with Shostakovich, the Seventh Symphony. ('The music had marched into his body and strengthened him, fortifying his resolve.') All while struggling to keep himself and his elderly mother alive.

The novel ends just as Eisenberg's baton comes down to begin that momentous performance. We don't see people's reactions, or the aftermath of the Siege, or how Eisenberg's life changed -- not entirely for the better -- after the war. But Quigley gives us an emotional, credible, sometimes dramatic insight into the men who brought about the Leningrad premiere of what became known as the Leningrad Symphony.

I bought this novel in 2012, since when it's languished in the TBR: a great example of how there's a right time to read a book.

I also listened to Shostakovich's Seventh Symphony on repeat while I read: sadly, I still don't really like his music. But I love how much it mattered.