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Gone: A Girl, a Violin, a Life Unstrung
At 7 years old Min Kym was a prodigy, the youngest ever pupil at the Purcell School of Music. At 11 she won her first international prize. She worked with many violins, waiting for the day she would play 'the one'. At 21 she found it: a rare 1696 Stradivarius, perfectly suited to her build and temperament. Her career soared. She recorded the Brahms concerto and a world tour was planned.
Then, in a train station café, her violin was stolen. In an instant her world collapsed. She descended into a terrifying limbo land, unable to play another note.
This is Min's extraordinary story - of a young woman staring into the void, wondering who she was, who she had been. It is a story of isolation and dependence, of love, loss and betrayal, and the intense, almost human bond that a musician has with their instrument. Above all it's a story of hope through a journey back to music.
Then, in a train station café, her violin was stolen. In an instant her world collapsed. She descended into a terrifying limbo land, unable to play another note.
This is Min's extraordinary story - of a young woman staring into the void, wondering who she was, who she had been. It is a story of isolation and dependence, of love, loss and betrayal, and the intense, almost human bond that a musician has with their instrument. Above all it's a story of hope through a journey back to music.
227 pages, Hardcover
First published April 6, 2017
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4327 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 326 reviews
November 14, 2021
A devastating and emotionally raw story, but ultimately a little too scattered and breaks the fourth wall too frequently to give it the full five stars I predicted it would earn. But still, a great read!
September 1, 2022
A book that made me feel so many different emotions!!! I admit that the first part was a little bumptious and a tad arrogant and tended to pump up the unique gifts of our child prodigy Min......
and then.... I understood why I felt really so bad about the emotions I have just described.
Min opened her life to us , her frailties, her fears with crazy bravery...who could put down on paper, to the disposition of the entire classical music world, about the dramatic and absurd choice to be manipulated by such shameful people? It is terrible to read her pain,about her inability to cope with the total manipulation to which she has been subjected by sleazy people.
Being Italian and musician in the past myself, I sweated like crazy when I read about the damaged and stolen Stradivarius.
It's crazy, we Italian musicians suffer so much about our pride for the liuteria di Cremona, we go mad when some italian instruments from Cremona go damaged or lost!!
Min dearest, the story you told us about Matt, I even thought at first, that he had organized the whole set-up to steal your instrument and have a profit from it.
I hope so much that you will always be able to find yourself, no matter what instrument you play today or you will play.
Thank you for sharing your life with us!!!
Un libro che mi ha scombussolato non poco. Ammetyo che la prima parte l' ho trovata boriosa e un filino arrogante e tendente a pompare le doti uniche della nostra protagonista......
e pi ho capito che perchè e mi sono sentita veramente in colpa per le emozioni che ho provato appena descritte.
Min ha descritto la sua vita, le sue fragilità e le sue paure con un coraggio pazzesco...chi riuscirebbe a mettere nero su bianco, alla disposizione di tutto il mondo della musica classica, della drammatica e assurda scelta di farsi manipolare da persone così vergognose? E' terribile leggere del suo dolore, della sua incapacità di fronte alla totale manipolazione a cui è andata incontro di persone squallide.
Essendo italiana e musicista, ho sudato come una pazza quando ho letto dello Stradivari danneggiato.
E' folle, mai noi musicisti italiani vorremmo che quegli strumenti rimanessero solo in mani italiane per qualche astrtuso e assurdo orgoglio nazionale.
Min carissima, pensa che di fronte alla storia che ci hai raccontato di Matt, ho persino pensato che avesse oganizzato lui tutta la messa in scena per rubarti lo strumento e averne un guadagno.
Spero tantissimo tu riesca a trovare sempre te stessa indipendentemente dallo strumento che suoni all' oggi o che suonerai.
Grazie per aver condiviso con noi la tua vita!!
and then.... I understood why I felt really so bad about the emotions I have just described.
Min opened her life to us , her frailties, her fears with crazy bravery...who could put down on paper, to the disposition of the entire classical music world, about the dramatic and absurd choice to be manipulated by such shameful people? It is terrible to read her pain,about her inability to cope with the total manipulation to which she has been subjected by sleazy people.
Being Italian and musician in the past myself, I sweated like crazy when I read about the damaged and stolen Stradivarius.
It's crazy, we Italian musicians suffer so much about our pride for the liuteria di Cremona, we go mad when some italian instruments from Cremona go damaged or lost!!
Min dearest, the story you told us about Matt, I even thought at first, that he had organized the whole set-up to steal your instrument and have a profit from it.
I hope so much that you will always be able to find yourself, no matter what instrument you play today or you will play.
Thank you for sharing your life with us!!!
Un libro che mi ha scombussolato non poco. Ammetyo che la prima parte l' ho trovata boriosa e un filino arrogante e tendente a pompare le doti uniche della nostra protagonista......
e pi ho capito che perchè e mi sono sentita veramente in colpa per le emozioni che ho provato appena descritte.
Min ha descritto la sua vita, le sue fragilità e le sue paure con un coraggio pazzesco...chi riuscirebbe a mettere nero su bianco, alla disposizione di tutto il mondo della musica classica, della drammatica e assurda scelta di farsi manipolare da persone così vergognose? E' terribile leggere del suo dolore, della sua incapacità di fronte alla totale manipolazione a cui è andata incontro di persone squallide.
Essendo italiana e musicista, ho sudato come una pazza quando ho letto dello Stradivari danneggiato.
E' folle, mai noi musicisti italiani vorremmo che quegli strumenti rimanessero solo in mani italiane per qualche astrtuso e assurdo orgoglio nazionale.
Min carissima, pensa che di fronte alla storia che ci hai raccontato di Matt, ho persino pensato che avesse oganizzato lui tutta la messa in scena per rubarti lo strumento e averne un guadagno.
Spero tantissimo tu riesca a trovare sempre te stessa indipendentemente dallo strumento che suoni all' oggi o che suonerai.
Grazie per aver condiviso con noi la tua vita!!
June 9, 2017
The best memoirs introduce you to a life experience you’ll never know for yourself. I’m completely unmusical, so I enjoyed learning about what it’s like to be a violin virtuoso and a child prodigy, and what it means to fall in love with an instrument. Kym also puts things into the context of being a Korean immigrant to London. The central event of the book is having her Stradivarius, worth hundreds of thousands of pounds, stolen from a train station café in late 2010, an event that plunged her into a deep depression and drove her away from music for a number of years. Even after she moved on and acquired a different violin, she couldn’t forget the relationship she’d had with her Strad.
It’s a brief and fairly immersive story, but the style is melodramatic and choppy at times, as in this sentence: “It seemed to sum up why one plays: the music you bring, the emotions you feel, encourage in others, that expression of unity, of ultimate peace, that seems to be music’s greatest gift.”
It’s a brief and fairly immersive story, but the style is melodramatic and choppy at times, as in this sentence: “It seemed to sum up why one plays: the music you bring, the emotions you feel, encourage in others, that expression of unity, of ultimate peace, that seems to be music’s greatest gift.”
March 23, 2017
This book has it all. In her beautifully written memoir, Min Kym describes her life as a childhood prodigy who received notice from a very early age. From the age of six, when she first picked up a scaled down violin, she knew where her future and passion would lie. With each successive instrument, increasing in size and importance, she mastered her technique and expanded her repertoire, until, in a moment suffused with more romance than deemed possible, she met "the one," a rare 1696 Stradivarius. From their first contact, Min and her violin experienced a connection unlike any other, and this description enhanced my appreciation of the strong affinity between musician and instrument of choice, most particularly the violin as it becomes an extension of the artist, sharing breath and exaltation. If this sounds over the top, it really isn't given the attachment between Min and her violin.
It is not giving anything away to reveal she was separated from it 10 years later when it is stolen in a London cafe. But how this is handled is so deft, it reads almost like a thriller you know the outcome of, but are powerless to prevent. So, in addition to a stunning, revealing, intimate and generous autobiography, there is also the element of crime. But she shares so much more than the mere facts of her life -- I came away with a deeper appreciation for the music, the sacrifices a musician must undergo, and also her Korean heritage.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9JYG...
It is not giving anything away to reveal she was separated from it 10 years later when it is stolen in a London cafe. But how this is handled is so deft, it reads almost like a thriller you know the outcome of, but are powerless to prevent. So, in addition to a stunning, revealing, intimate and generous autobiography, there is also the element of crime. But she shares so much more than the mere facts of her life -- I came away with a deeper appreciation for the music, the sacrifices a musician must undergo, and also her Korean heritage.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9JYG...
April 6, 2017
Visit the locations in the novel: Gone
This book sang to me – what a joy to read and an honour to be inside Min Kym’s world. Despite the relatively short length of the story, this is just the written story – like a page of written music is really an entire concerto. The story of Min Kym’s journey to the violin maestro she became is something to marvel at long after you’ve finished.
The writing is warm and friendly – I was Min Kym’s friend from the start. Her passion for music, for her violin stands out – it shines. But she is aware of her Korean background and the difficulties she and her family are going to go through so that she can find her rightful place in the world. At times this was so personal, I felt as if Min Kym was confessing this to me in whispers, pouring out her heart as to the journey she’s been on and the world of music she had now made her own.
Have you ever thought about child prodigies? What it means to actually be one? I was captivate and chilled as she poured out her most intimate thoughts, the day she played with Yehudi Menuhin (the only one of two times she doesn’t mind when someone takes her violin) and plays for her. The humour and self awareness of this young girl is amazing and she is humbled – as I was reading her words.
This story really is an amazing journey in every sense of the word. I used to play the violin myself and now marvel that Min Kym’s story is how that instrument can really sing if you are the one to teach it. A remarkable story which music lovers will connect with and readers of all kinds will rejoice at.
This book sang to me – what a joy to read and an honour to be inside Min Kym’s world. Despite the relatively short length of the story, this is just the written story – like a page of written music is really an entire concerto. The story of Min Kym’s journey to the violin maestro she became is something to marvel at long after you’ve finished.
The writing is warm and friendly – I was Min Kym’s friend from the start. Her passion for music, for her violin stands out – it shines. But she is aware of her Korean background and the difficulties she and her family are going to go through so that she can find her rightful place in the world. At times this was so personal, I felt as if Min Kym was confessing this to me in whispers, pouring out her heart as to the journey she’s been on and the world of music she had now made her own.
Have you ever thought about child prodigies? What it means to actually be one? I was captivate and chilled as she poured out her most intimate thoughts, the day she played with Yehudi Menuhin (the only one of two times she doesn’t mind when someone takes her violin) and plays for her. The humour and self awareness of this young girl is amazing and she is humbled – as I was reading her words.
This story really is an amazing journey in every sense of the word. I used to play the violin myself and now marvel that Min Kym’s story is how that instrument can really sing if you are the one to teach it. A remarkable story which music lovers will connect with and readers of all kinds will rejoice at.
February 20, 2017
Min is more talented than all of us, totally knows it and I didn't hate her for even a minute. Love her writing. Love her candor in regards to all her greatness and her flaws. It reads very fresh and honest. I couldn't relate for a second but I never felt like I needed to in order to care. It almost felt as if Min didn't expect us to care, she just really needed to tell the story. A cool desperation. Which worked. I'm glad I took my time with this one.
Thanks to the goodreads firstreads giveaway and Crown Publishing for a chance to read Gone.
Thanks to the goodreads firstreads giveaway and Crown Publishing for a chance to read Gone.
May 27, 2021
There's so many wonderful things to be found in this slim musical memoir; the idea of a violin as a person's voice, the connection to an instrument for a (professional) musician, the aim of music and the art form's beauty as well as its limitations; all of this and more is woven into Min Kym's own personal story of a life in which the violin has played the leading role.
June 15, 2020
Reading this book was a delight. I galloped through it in a day, buoyed along by Min Kym’s clear-eyed and lyrical prose. It reminded me why I read memoirs in the first place: to be completely enveloped by someone else’s experiences.
Good memoirists enfold you into their lives, and that’s exactly the case here. I don’t have a musical bone in my body; I’m not tone-deaf and I can plunk out a few scales on the piano, but I listen to music the way kids eat candy—with reckless abandon and no eye for nuance, just shoving it all in because it tastes nice. When Kym talks about the character of certain violinists or composers, I simply take her at her word, because as beautiful as the music that accompanies this book is, I’m just not able to see music the way she does. Nor could I ever have guessed at the incredible richness of the violin as an instrument, how closely it has to fit with the person who wields it. Kym inhabits a world I knew practically nothing about and yet by her vivid descriptions I completely understood how vital this all was to her, performing, practising, perfecting.
It might seem bizarre that the first phrase that comes to mind to describe Gone is “a story of survival.” Kym herself doesn’t use those sorts of terms but nevertheless I can’t shake the feeling that at its core, that’s what this memoir is. There are no life-threatening circumstances, no clinging to life in the face of incredible odds. But when you consider the life of the child prodigy, the enduring power of Kym’s love and understanding of music even after such a crushing blow as the sudden loss of her treasured instrument, the fact that she can look back with so much compassion and lucidity not just upon her younger selves but upon all the people who pushed her, manoeuvred her, led her astray... and the fact that Min Kym comes out of all this intact, broken and rebuilt, as it were, like her beloved Stradivarius, its cracks and damage accrued over centuries lovingly patched up and reinforced, giving it character and life. That is survival.
Good memoirists enfold you into their lives, and that’s exactly the case here. I don’t have a musical bone in my body; I’m not tone-deaf and I can plunk out a few scales on the piano, but I listen to music the way kids eat candy—with reckless abandon and no eye for nuance, just shoving it all in because it tastes nice. When Kym talks about the character of certain violinists or composers, I simply take her at her word, because as beautiful as the music that accompanies this book is, I’m just not able to see music the way she does. Nor could I ever have guessed at the incredible richness of the violin as an instrument, how closely it has to fit with the person who wields it. Kym inhabits a world I knew practically nothing about and yet by her vivid descriptions I completely understood how vital this all was to her, performing, practising, perfecting.
It might seem bizarre that the first phrase that comes to mind to describe Gone is “a story of survival.” Kym herself doesn’t use those sorts of terms but nevertheless I can’t shake the feeling that at its core, that’s what this memoir is. There are no life-threatening circumstances, no clinging to life in the face of incredible odds. But when you consider the life of the child prodigy, the enduring power of Kym’s love and understanding of music even after such a crushing blow as the sudden loss of her treasured instrument, the fact that she can look back with so much compassion and lucidity not just upon her younger selves but upon all the people who pushed her, manoeuvred her, led her astray... and the fact that Min Kym comes out of all this intact, broken and rebuilt, as it were, like her beloved Stradivarius, its cracks and damage accrued over centuries lovingly patched up and reinforced, giving it character and life. That is survival.
July 9, 2017
I read this entire book in one sitting, skipping dinner and foregoing sleep to continue reading Min Kym's memoirs about learning the violin, finding her Stradivarius, and the horror of it's theft. It is truly spellbinding.
The best memoirs are the ones that can bring you into a life as it was lived by someone else, and Kym does exactly that. The story she's told--alternately beautiful and horrifying--wraps you in it's arms and shows you what it is to be a virtuoso but also to be a young woman in a world where men will take advantage of your talent, your generosity, and yours heartbreak.
I will never be able to play the violin anything like Min Kym (I know, I've tried, and the violin rejected me), but I feel like this book allows us to bond with her, to see her as a sister, and while she may forgive the man who manipulated (abused?) her and was the ultimate reason the Strad was stolen in the first place and taken away from her again even after it was found, I will not. Kym never puts it in words, but his garbage white male privileged bullshit cost her her voice for years, and he deserves a lot worse than he got in her story.
Perhaps this is the mark of a good memoir--it puts the reader firmly on the author's team. If you read Gone, you will find yourself cheering for her, crying with her, and hoping she gets everything back.
One last note: If you get the chance, listen to the audiobook version, as it also weaves through the music Kym mentions throughout. But if not, there's an accompanying playlist online that you must search out.
The best memoirs are the ones that can bring you into a life as it was lived by someone else, and Kym does exactly that. The story she's told--alternately beautiful and horrifying--wraps you in it's arms and shows you what it is to be a virtuoso but also to be a young woman in a world where men will take advantage of your talent, your generosity, and yours heartbreak.
I will never be able to play the violin anything like Min Kym (I know, I've tried, and the violin rejected me), but I feel like this book allows us to bond with her, to see her as a sister, and while she may forgive the man who manipulated (abused?) her and was the ultimate reason the Strad was stolen in the first place and taken away from her again even after it was found, I will not. Kym never puts it in words, but his garbage white male privileged bullshit cost her her voice for years, and he deserves a lot worse than he got in her story.
Perhaps this is the mark of a good memoir--it puts the reader firmly on the author's team. If you read Gone, you will find yourself cheering for her, crying with her, and hoping she gets everything back.
One last note: If you get the chance, listen to the audiobook version, as it also weaves through the music Kym mentions throughout. But if not, there's an accompanying playlist online that you must search out.
April 18, 2017
I very much enjoyed this heartfelt memoir by Min Kym. Ms. Kym gives us an in depth look into the life of a child prodigy. Though she longed to live a “normal” life, hers was taken up with studying and playing the violin. She loved every minute of it but she did miss not having friends or going to other children’s birthday parties. But music was her passion and she definitely kept my interest as she tells of her progress in music.
Then she finds what she calls her “soulmate” – a valuable Stradivarius. Though she had played beautifully on all of her previous violins, she knew this one was special. Her musical career started to take off until one tragic day when her violin was stolen.
Ms. Kym writes very convincingly on how this theft affected her. I felt I was living the loss with her, though truly how could I have known how she felt when I myself have never been so attached to a musical instrument. Even so, reading her words did give me an understanding of what she went through. After studying so hard and coming so far, this one event truly upended her.
There are parts of the book where it might be helpful to have some knowledge about music but mostly I think it would appeal to anyone who has loved and lost.
Recommended memoir.
This book was given to me by the publisher in return for an honest review.
Then she finds what she calls her “soulmate” – a valuable Stradivarius. Though she had played beautifully on all of her previous violins, she knew this one was special. Her musical career started to take off until one tragic day when her violin was stolen.
Ms. Kym writes very convincingly on how this theft affected her. I felt I was living the loss with her, though truly how could I have known how she felt when I myself have never been so attached to a musical instrument. Even so, reading her words did give me an understanding of what she went through. After studying so hard and coming so far, this one event truly upended her.
There are parts of the book where it might be helpful to have some knowledge about music but mostly I think it would appeal to anyone who has loved and lost.
Recommended memoir.
This book was given to me by the publisher in return for an honest review.
July 29, 2018
Interesants stāsts par man maz zināmu pasauli - muzikālie brīnumbērni un viņu problēmas, korejiešu emigranti un superdārgie mūzikas instrumenti.
Mina sāk spēlēt vijoli 6 gadu vecumā, ātri pārkāpjot vecuma un talanta robežām, un savos 20 nopērk sava mūža vijoli - retu, miljonu vērtu Stradivari. 10 gadus vēlāk viņai šo vijoli nozog - pavisam netīšā un negaidītā situācijā.
Grāmata pastāstīja daudz jauna par visu šo, bet nodaļas nebija vienmērīgi kvalitatīvas, kas liek domāt - Mina viena pati šo nerakstīja.
Mazliet kaitināja Minas izvēles, bezmugurkauls un atrisinājums. Šķita - nu vienkārši stulbi, bet pēc kaujas jau visi gudri.
Ja ikdienā klausaties LR3 arī ārpus AM Frekvencēm, iesaku. Arī kā tīri psiholoģisks šāda muzikālā brīnumbērna portrets grāmata ir lasāma un aizraujoša.
Mina sāk spēlēt vijoli 6 gadu vecumā, ātri pārkāpjot vecuma un talanta robežām, un savos 20 nopērk sava mūža vijoli - retu, miljonu vērtu Stradivari. 10 gadus vēlāk viņai šo vijoli nozog - pavisam netīšā un negaidītā situācijā.
Grāmata pastāstīja daudz jauna par visu šo, bet nodaļas nebija vienmērīgi kvalitatīvas, kas liek domāt - Mina viena pati šo nerakstīja.
Mazliet kaitināja Minas izvēles, bezmugurkauls un atrisinājums. Šķita - nu vienkārši stulbi, bet pēc kaujas jau visi gudri.
Ja ikdienā klausaties LR3 arī ārpus AM Frekvencēm, iesaku. Arī kā tīri psiholoģisks šāda muzikālā brīnumbērna portrets grāmata ir lasāma un aizraujoša.
August 17, 2018
Someone asked me once if, side by side, I could have a perfect version of my violin or the version that I have, which one would I choose? It's hard to say I wouldn't choose the perfect one, because I've never heard it, never held it, never taken it out of its case, but its imperfections were what made my violin my violin, what made it almost human. I needed those imperfections, needed to coax out the brilliance that lay within its damaged frame. I loved my violin, but I also had compassion for it. It had been through hard times, lived a lot. It was safe now, and my duty was to let it grow in confidence play it as it should be played.Kym has a gift. She became a child prodigy when she started to play the violin as a child and the violin has shaped her life ever since. Sadly, she's not quite as gifted at writing. This memoir is written in a way that feels clunky, stilted, and disorganised. In one of the very last chapters, Kym herself admits she skipped over something of vital significance when telling her story:
It's still hard to talk about, which is why it comes now, and isn't running through the story. I'd put it away, like I put away so many things.This happens time and time again in the book; for example, Kym will suddenly decide to talk about somebody she claims to have had a huge impact on her life, but didn't think to mention them when describing the course of events they were supposedly most involved in. She skips over them, "puts it away" as she said, like many other things, and I'm sure there's more that wasn't mentioned at all
But none of this really matters when her story is so absorbing and I really felt for Kym telling us what she's been through. It clearly wasn't easy writing this, but it felt honest, even if her own memory plays tricks on her and she struggled to organise her thoughts while writing this. I won't say anything about what happens to her. The key event of the memoir is so far removed from what any of us who are not serious, classical musicians can imagine experiencing, but I think she did a good job at describing the hurt it caused her.
The memoir was at its strongest when Kym was describing how music speaks to her, how it feels to be partnered with a musical instrument, and the insights into her training. A really nice touch is that an album was recorded to go along with this book and you can listen along to her playing as you read her describing the musical piece. She's not quite as good at describing her childhood upbringing, the cultural influences on her life (Korean expats to the UK), and her relationships. I think she just find these aspects of her life more difficult to discuss, which is fair enough, as clearly she's not a writer. That was never her calling.
In summary, don't go into this expecting a terrifically, well-written memoir, but rather an insight into the life of a classical musician and a story that is so far from most of our lives. Intriguing and absorbing, it was a good read in that respect.
March 11, 2017
I had high hopes for this book, but in the end it was little more than a very short story stretched out over 200 pages.
Musician Min Kym was a child prodigy and is, by all measures, a remarkably gifted violinist. What she is not is a remarkably gifted writer. That's not a slight, simply a fact. She repeats the few points she has over and over and over via a choppy and dull prose. It might read as conversational, but that's not necessarily a good thing. The tale of her stolen Stradivarius is the hook, but what buries the lead is the dry backstory of her life as a child prodigy and later successful musician.
Kym writes earnestly about her somewhat unusual relationship to her instrument, one that trumps all others in her life. It isn't so unusual to have an artist reveal that their obsession with their craft leaves little room for anything/anyone else, or that it may draw some confusion from others who don't share such a committed mindset. In her world she's a clear loner, even from childhood. This is interesting but hardly novel. Furthermore, the story of the theft and later recovery might have made a fascinating magazine article, but definitely can't carry the weight of an entire book.
For a biography to be compelling, there must be solid writing that takes the facts, the names, the places, the dates, et al and puts them into an engaging narrative. Unfortunately, Kym's style is tedious and boring. Even if I discount the numerous typos, grammatical inconsistencies, and even some contradictions she has, this is a story about more than a stolen instrument, and that's where it inevitably fails.
Musician Min Kym was a child prodigy and is, by all measures, a remarkably gifted violinist. What she is not is a remarkably gifted writer. That's not a slight, simply a fact. She repeats the few points she has over and over and over via a choppy and dull prose. It might read as conversational, but that's not necessarily a good thing. The tale of her stolen Stradivarius is the hook, but what buries the lead is the dry backstory of her life as a child prodigy and later successful musician.
Kym writes earnestly about her somewhat unusual relationship to her instrument, one that trumps all others in her life. It isn't so unusual to have an artist reveal that their obsession with their craft leaves little room for anything/anyone else, or that it may draw some confusion from others who don't share such a committed mindset. In her world she's a clear loner, even from childhood. This is interesting but hardly novel. Furthermore, the story of the theft and later recovery might have made a fascinating magazine article, but definitely can't carry the weight of an entire book.
For a biography to be compelling, there must be solid writing that takes the facts, the names, the places, the dates, et al and puts them into an engaging narrative. Unfortunately, Kym's style is tedious and boring. Even if I discount the numerous typos, grammatical inconsistencies, and even some contradictions she has, this is a story about more than a stolen instrument, and that's where it inevitably fails.
July 22, 2018
'All my life my Stradivarius had been waiting for me, as I had been waiting for her . . .'
This is a love story.
I was very intrigued with the book, reading its excerpt and reviews in Goodreads. I am glad that I was chosen to received a free copy from Times Reads and to review it.
This is a love story, but a love between a girl and her violin. Min Kym was the youngest ever pupil at the Purcell School of Music. At 11 she won her first international prize. She was a prodigy, her talent was recognised, and she was off to an optimistic future.
Her violin is the instrument for her to channel and share her geniuses. Without it, she is lost.
As it happened, her violin, a rare 1696 Stradivarius was stolen.
And her life began moving downhill.
This is a story of a Korean girl who moved to London to pursue her dream. Her life filled with isolation, of love, loss and betrayal, and the intense, almost human bond that a musician has with their instrument. But being gifted doesn't mean, she is not without weakness. She still goes through the pain of being manipulated by the man she loves.
I finished reading this over the weekend. Min Kym suggests that the book is read while listening to her album. She inserts a symbol of a music note in certain areas in the book, so that the reader knows when to play the song she suggested. I attempted to listen to it while reading, but I find it distracting. I was focusing more on the music than what I read. But I would recommend for you readers to try it out, okay.
Oh, did I mentioned that I love the book?
I LOVE the book.
This is a love story.
I was very intrigued with the book, reading its excerpt and reviews in Goodreads. I am glad that I was chosen to received a free copy from Times Reads and to review it.
This is a love story, but a love between a girl and her violin. Min Kym was the youngest ever pupil at the Purcell School of Music. At 11 she won her first international prize. She was a prodigy, her talent was recognised, and she was off to an optimistic future.
Her violin is the instrument for her to channel and share her geniuses. Without it, she is lost.
As it happened, her violin, a rare 1696 Stradivarius was stolen.
And her life began moving downhill.
This is a story of a Korean girl who moved to London to pursue her dream. Her life filled with isolation, of love, loss and betrayal, and the intense, almost human bond that a musician has with their instrument. But being gifted doesn't mean, she is not without weakness. She still goes through the pain of being manipulated by the man she loves.
I finished reading this over the weekend. Min Kym suggests that the book is read while listening to her album. She inserts a symbol of a music note in certain areas in the book, so that the reader knows when to play the song she suggested. I attempted to listen to it while reading, but I find it distracting. I was focusing more on the music than what I read. But I would recommend for you readers to try it out, okay.
Oh, did I mentioned that I love the book?
I LOVE the book.
February 8, 2017
Gone is the story of a woman with a violin, who had begun as a child prodigy on the violin, who had found her equivalent to a soul mate in the perfect violin for her, and from whom this violin was stolen. It was a Stradivarius, and so worth a great deal of money – but, more importantly to her, it was the instrument from which she had brought music for ten years, which she had nurtured and which had nurtured her, which she had expected to die holding. Which in a moment of weakness, of illness and trust in the wrong person, vanished.
And let me tell you, that wrong person? I believe Min tried very hard to report at least somewhat objectively, and even so I wanted something dire to happen to him.
All the while I was reading this tale of her training and of the violin and of its loss and the violent effect that had on her, I was trying to think of something in my life that would hit me the same way. There are things I have lost that have hurt me – like the entire collection of my family's Christmas decorations, gone, which still keeps me up at night from time to time – but this … I had planned to be a painter, and there is nothing I can think of, even to a sketchbook or a work in progress or finished work, which could be as tremendous a loss as a violinist's violin.
And, while reading this, I spent a lot of time thinking about the nature of thieves. Do they realize what they're doing when they're doing it, the pain they're inflicting, or does it simply not matter to them? I have a friend who came home one evening with her two young children to find their apartment stripped bare – people had come in and taken everything, from electronics and money to appliances to all of their clothing, to dish towel that had been hanging on the oven door handle. Did the pain and shock and horror they were leaving behind them in that empty apartment ever occur to the thieves, or was that part of the allure of the thing? Were they just looking to make as much money as possible out of the evening's work, or were they purposely looking to make it hurt as much as possible? Given the sheer thoroughness of the job, I tend to think the latter. And what forms the kind of mindset that can do something like that - or something like stealing the means with which someone earns their living, the most important part of her life? Stealing for money I can understand, just about. Stealing from people who don't have much, to injure – I begin to understand why sometimes the penalties for theft are greater than the penalties for murder. I doubt what I've just blathered on about is part of what goes into sentencing – I doubt prosecuting attorneys take a victim's trauma much into account when looking to punish the person who stole from them – but I never took theft quite as seriously as I do right now.
In a way, my friend's loss of just about everything she owned is as close an analogy as can be made to Min Kym's loss of her Strad. I think I understand the importance of the violin as much as anyone can who doesn't play. I meant to be a visual artist, and, again, there's no equivalent in that world – steal my brushes, and it won't be much more than an infuriating outlay of money to replace them. If nothing else, Min has done a service to musicians by laying her heart open in the pages of these books, and making it just a bit more comprehensible for those of us outside her world: to steal a musician's instrument is to steal her life.
Someone had the stupid audacity to say to her at some point that well, she could and would get another violin. Having read this story of anguish and panic and despair at the loss of, basically, an appendage, I'm not much inclined to defend that person. The only defense that can be offered is ignorance.
My rating for this book doesn't necessarily reflect its literary quality; it's always hard to judge an advance copy (I received this through LibraryThing's Early Reviewers), because they always come with the warning that the text is not final, the promise that errors will be corrected in the final proof. So I'll put faith in the promise and heed the warning, and hope that someone sees this book as someone once saw Min – a diamond to be polished.
Because it's an amazing story, small and intimate and immediate but also very deep in scope and applicability. Her life as a prodigy is told quite matter-of-factly, without arrogance or even really pride, as though she had little to do with it. And that's how it seems: a prodigious talent expressed itself through her, and she has merely done what was necessary to give it a good home, hone it and allow it to shape her. The instant recognition upon picking up her Strad is like something out of a romance novel – true love at first sight. And it led to what amounted to a real marriage – each partner working with the weaknesses of the other to create something wonderful.
Unfortunately, this story is real life and not a romance novel; the Happily Ever After lasted ten years, and then: separation. Fortunately, the loss of even a Strad can be survived in much the same way lost love is – after a lot of pain, self-doubt, second-guessing, what-ifs, bad decisions… and maybe a new love to, if not replace the old one, then fill in some of the space left empty, with a new shape. This book is the exploration of the pain, and of the healing, and an examination of who Min is, with and without a violin in her hands. For the honesty and passion of the story, I couldn't quite bear to rate this book less than five stars. And I wish the author all the best.
And let me tell you, that wrong person? I believe Min tried very hard to report at least somewhat objectively, and even so I wanted something dire to happen to him.
All the while I was reading this tale of her training and of the violin and of its loss and the violent effect that had on her, I was trying to think of something in my life that would hit me the same way. There are things I have lost that have hurt me – like the entire collection of my family's Christmas decorations, gone, which still keeps me up at night from time to time – but this … I had planned to be a painter, and there is nothing I can think of, even to a sketchbook or a work in progress or finished work, which could be as tremendous a loss as a violinist's violin.
And, while reading this, I spent a lot of time thinking about the nature of thieves. Do they realize what they're doing when they're doing it, the pain they're inflicting, or does it simply not matter to them? I have a friend who came home one evening with her two young children to find their apartment stripped bare – people had come in and taken everything, from electronics and money to appliances to all of their clothing, to dish towel that had been hanging on the oven door handle. Did the pain and shock and horror they were leaving behind them in that empty apartment ever occur to the thieves, or was that part of the allure of the thing? Were they just looking to make as much money as possible out of the evening's work, or were they purposely looking to make it hurt as much as possible? Given the sheer thoroughness of the job, I tend to think the latter. And what forms the kind of mindset that can do something like that - or something like stealing the means with which someone earns their living, the most important part of her life? Stealing for money I can understand, just about. Stealing from people who don't have much, to injure – I begin to understand why sometimes the penalties for theft are greater than the penalties for murder. I doubt what I've just blathered on about is part of what goes into sentencing – I doubt prosecuting attorneys take a victim's trauma much into account when looking to punish the person who stole from them – but I never took theft quite as seriously as I do right now.
In a way, my friend's loss of just about everything she owned is as close an analogy as can be made to Min Kym's loss of her Strad. I think I understand the importance of the violin as much as anyone can who doesn't play. I meant to be a visual artist, and, again, there's no equivalent in that world – steal my brushes, and it won't be much more than an infuriating outlay of money to replace them. If nothing else, Min has done a service to musicians by laying her heart open in the pages of these books, and making it just a bit more comprehensible for those of us outside her world: to steal a musician's instrument is to steal her life.
Someone had the stupid audacity to say to her at some point that well, she could and would get another violin. Having read this story of anguish and panic and despair at the loss of, basically, an appendage, I'm not much inclined to defend that person. The only defense that can be offered is ignorance.
My rating for this book doesn't necessarily reflect its literary quality; it's always hard to judge an advance copy (I received this through LibraryThing's Early Reviewers), because they always come with the warning that the text is not final, the promise that errors will be corrected in the final proof. So I'll put faith in the promise and heed the warning, and hope that someone sees this book as someone once saw Min – a diamond to be polished.
Because it's an amazing story, small and intimate and immediate but also very deep in scope and applicability. Her life as a prodigy is told quite matter-of-factly, without arrogance or even really pride, as though she had little to do with it. And that's how it seems: a prodigious talent expressed itself through her, and she has merely done what was necessary to give it a good home, hone it and allow it to shape her. The instant recognition upon picking up her Strad is like something out of a romance novel – true love at first sight. And it led to what amounted to a real marriage – each partner working with the weaknesses of the other to create something wonderful.
Unfortunately, this story is real life and not a romance novel; the Happily Ever After lasted ten years, and then: separation. Fortunately, the loss of even a Strad can be survived in much the same way lost love is – after a lot of pain, self-doubt, second-guessing, what-ifs, bad decisions… and maybe a new love to, if not replace the old one, then fill in some of the space left empty, with a new shape. This book is the exploration of the pain, and of the healing, and an examination of who Min is, with and without a violin in her hands. For the honesty and passion of the story, I couldn't quite bear to rate this book less than five stars. And I wish the author all the best.
April 3, 2017
I received this book from Net Galley in exchange for an honest review.
5 Stars, more if I could give more.
"My violin was born in 1696, the year Peter the Great became Tsar of Russia. It's seen off Napoleon, Queen Victoria, Stalin, Mao Tse-tung, two world wars, and so far, the atomic bomb. People come, people go, violinists live, violinists die, empires rise and fall and the violin lives on, washed from shore to shore on tides of wealth, fortune and history. But this is just a speck of time for my Strad."
This book had a strong personal interest for me and I was thrilled when Crown Publishing trusted me with the galley to review it. It took me a while to be in the proper mental place to read it, because I knew whatever Min-Jin Kym had to say about the theft of her violin, it was going to be a story of poignant loss. Just looking at how all her biographical info and most of her slim recorded output have disappeared from the internet gives you a glimpse of how much was stolen from her that December day in a Pret-à-Manger in Euston Station back in 2010. Some of it I'm assuming she removed, since she's a different, stronger Min Kym these days, but some... the music world moved forward without her, while she stood lost without her instrument. For a time she, too, was gone.
Kym begins this book by carefully giving the reader a glimpse into the shooting star life of a child prodigy. Indeed, that was my initial draw to the book, rather than the sensational part of the story, the theft of Kym's beloved Strad. Some people seem not to like this early description of her nascent talent, thinking that it's boastful or overblown. Kym is giving you context, so that you understand her gift but also how much playing the violin was woven into the very fabric of her being. It defined who she was, how she was, what she did with her every waking moment. There was also the sheer burden of the expectations.
"What's a child prodigy? Here's another stab at it. It's a means to another person's ends."
When I was a young teen, my grandmother lived in the 'cottage-in-back' of a family with a child prodigy pianist. I remember listening to Naomi play and painfully noting her skill, her grace on the keyboard that stood in stark contrast to my own hard-won Bach, Chopin or Scriabin. Let me be frank. She was so good, I couldn't even be jealous of how good she was. It would have been like my being jealous of a child pianist who was up in Asgard. The years rolled by, my grandmother moved, Naomi grew older, played at the Aspen Festival, left for Harvard and then.... and then.... she disappeared. I mean, she didn't really, literally, but she clearly found another fulfilling life beyond being a child prodigy and it didn't even include being a piano soloist. How did that happen, I wonder? Does she miss playing? Where do grown up prodigies go nowadays? It was hard enough to live up to expectations in the 18th century. But now, with all the distractions, the media and publicity pressure...
I was intrigued by the story Kym might tell us, beyond her loss of her beautiful instrument. She was a prodigy who grew into a woman who was at the cusp of a very promising career. She got through the treacherous distractions of adolescence and trained as a young adult with the great Ruggiero Ricci, who said she was “The most talented violinist, both instrumentally and musically, I have ever played with. She seems to play with her whole being.” She played a Strad and was on her way. And then she, her violin and everything in her world disappeared.
The bildingsroman phase of the book serves to ground you in the magnitude of her loss, and of the revelations losing her violin brought her about her life, her choices. The book is about so much more than professional thieves nicking an instrument whose value they knew nothing about. It's about culture and female role socialization. It's about that moment of arriving and not knowing where or even who you are. It's about how weariness and a moment's concession to another's lack of vigilance can destroy your world.
Some may think the book doesn't have a happy ending. Min-Jin Kym still, heartachingly, doesn't have her Strad, for reasons that seem incomprehensible to anyone who has never struggled with the lethargy and despondency of depression, or the culture of saving face. But I prefer to think that Kym, playing a violin she has rescued from obscurity, has built something sustainable out of what she lost. It isn't a fairy tale life or career. It's real, vulnerable, and a work in progress that she's bravely shared with her readers in this book.
For those interested in hearing Kym play, only her first recording from 2001 is still readily available, (you can still find CDs of her Korean release of Brahms if you look for them) but she has a new solo album coming out at the end of March 2017. It is available in the US and U.K. iTunes Store. Of course, it's titled "Gone." I'm going to refer to it as "The Essence That Remains."
http://www.prestoclassical.co.uk/r/Wa...
5 Stars, more if I could give more.
"My violin was born in 1696, the year Peter the Great became Tsar of Russia. It's seen off Napoleon, Queen Victoria, Stalin, Mao Tse-tung, two world wars, and so far, the atomic bomb. People come, people go, violinists live, violinists die, empires rise and fall and the violin lives on, washed from shore to shore on tides of wealth, fortune and history. But this is just a speck of time for my Strad."
This book had a strong personal interest for me and I was thrilled when Crown Publishing trusted me with the galley to review it. It took me a while to be in the proper mental place to read it, because I knew whatever Min-Jin Kym had to say about the theft of her violin, it was going to be a story of poignant loss. Just looking at how all her biographical info and most of her slim recorded output have disappeared from the internet gives you a glimpse of how much was stolen from her that December day in a Pret-à-Manger in Euston Station back in 2010. Some of it I'm assuming she removed, since she's a different, stronger Min Kym these days, but some... the music world moved forward without her, while she stood lost without her instrument. For a time she, too, was gone.
Kym begins this book by carefully giving the reader a glimpse into the shooting star life of a child prodigy. Indeed, that was my initial draw to the book, rather than the sensational part of the story, the theft of Kym's beloved Strad. Some people seem not to like this early description of her nascent talent, thinking that it's boastful or overblown. Kym is giving you context, so that you understand her gift but also how much playing the violin was woven into the very fabric of her being. It defined who she was, how she was, what she did with her every waking moment. There was also the sheer burden of the expectations.
"What's a child prodigy? Here's another stab at it. It's a means to another person's ends."
When I was a young teen, my grandmother lived in the 'cottage-in-back' of a family with a child prodigy pianist. I remember listening to Naomi play and painfully noting her skill, her grace on the keyboard that stood in stark contrast to my own hard-won Bach, Chopin or Scriabin. Let me be frank. She was so good, I couldn't even be jealous of how good she was. It would have been like my being jealous of a child pianist who was up in Asgard. The years rolled by, my grandmother moved, Naomi grew older, played at the Aspen Festival, left for Harvard and then.... and then.... she disappeared. I mean, she didn't really, literally, but she clearly found another fulfilling life beyond being a child prodigy and it didn't even include being a piano soloist. How did that happen, I wonder? Does she miss playing? Where do grown up prodigies go nowadays? It was hard enough to live up to expectations in the 18th century. But now, with all the distractions, the media and publicity pressure...
I was intrigued by the story Kym might tell us, beyond her loss of her beautiful instrument. She was a prodigy who grew into a woman who was at the cusp of a very promising career. She got through the treacherous distractions of adolescence and trained as a young adult with the great Ruggiero Ricci, who said she was “The most talented violinist, both instrumentally and musically, I have ever played with. She seems to play with her whole being.” She played a Strad and was on her way. And then she, her violin and everything in her world disappeared.
The bildingsroman phase of the book serves to ground you in the magnitude of her loss, and of the revelations losing her violin brought her about her life, her choices. The book is about so much more than professional thieves nicking an instrument whose value they knew nothing about. It's about culture and female role socialization. It's about that moment of arriving and not knowing where or even who you are. It's about how weariness and a moment's concession to another's lack of vigilance can destroy your world.
Some may think the book doesn't have a happy ending. Min-Jin Kym still, heartachingly, doesn't have her Strad, for reasons that seem incomprehensible to anyone who has never struggled with the lethargy and despondency of depression, or the culture of saving face. But I prefer to think that Kym, playing a violin she has rescued from obscurity, has built something sustainable out of what she lost. It isn't a fairy tale life or career. It's real, vulnerable, and a work in progress that she's bravely shared with her readers in this book.
For those interested in hearing Kym play, only her first recording from 2001 is still readily available, (you can still find CDs of her Korean release of Brahms if you look for them) but she has a new solo album coming out at the end of March 2017. It is available in the US and U.K. iTunes Store. Of course, it's titled "Gone." I'm going to refer to it as "The Essence That Remains."
http://www.prestoclassical.co.uk/r/Wa...
July 20, 2017
What a treat! Although Gone was heartbreaking much of the time, it is beautifully written. You become friends with Min Kym from the start. Her life as a musical prodigy and beyond. When her "soulmate" Stradivarius is stolen at a train café (no-she was never careless with her instrument. Her boyfriend talked her into moving it), it completely broke her. Musically and mentally. Her eating disorder from many years prior returned and she was unable to play. Min's violin was found in 2010. But it was too late. Min accepted the relatively small insurance payment which gave them rights to the violin if ever found. The strad just kept increasing in value and Ms. Kym could not afford to win it at auction. It belongs now to an orchestra who I believe should do the right thing and give it back to Min. It is hers and only hers. I would be shocked if this happened but how I wish it would. A must, must read memoir. Btw, I don't often listen to classical music. It doesn't matter. Just a great, personal read. A fantastic gift as well.
September 1, 2021
I feel bad because this is obviously a memoir but I was not a fun of how it was structured, i stopped at 85% because I just was not feeling much at all while listening to the audiobook and spooky season starts tomorrow so I’m gonna call this done.
March 23, 2023
I felt very moved by this memoir. I liked how deeply reflective it was and how lyrically the author writes about her connection to classical music and to her violin especially. Bittersweet.
May 25, 2019
Not much to say about this one. I totally empathize with Kym's intensely disciplined childhood, her highly personal relationship with her instrument, her difficulty forging an identity for herself apart from her violin and her accomplishments--I can relate to a lot of this, and I assumed this memoir would be right up my alley. But Kym isn't a very good writer. And the elitism baked into the upper echelons of the classical music world became overwhelming by the end. (Kym completely breaks down when she loses her million-dollar Stradivarius, even after it's replaced with ANOTHER million-dollar Stradivarius. It takes a THIRD spectacular, priceless violin--an Amati--to finally coax her out of her depression. #millionaireproblems) I could probably afford to be more empathetic, but I mostly just wish this book was better.
April 27, 2017
I couldn't put this book down. Min-Jin Kym is a violin virtuoso, born in Korea, but raised in London, England. I loved her honesty about her love for the violin, growing up as a prodigy. Even though I am not a musician, I grew up with a brother and a best friend that played the violin, so a lot of Kym's story resonated. I also bought her album and listened to it while reading the book.
May 22, 2017
Min Kym tackled a difficult task here: to describe a loss that few people truly understand. She spends a lot of time trying to convey her relationship to music and to her Strad, they way it became a piece of her, an extension of her most intimate and also public identity. I loved the easy way in which she discussed her relationship with specific pieces. The complicated relationships with teachers.
There was a delay between when I downloaded this book and when I read it, and that delay was long enough that I mis-remembered the genre, thinking it was a novel and not a memoir. About fifty pages in, I looked it up again because it really didn't feel right. Most novels about music and musicians are rather flowery, trying to establish in language the magic of an aural art form. She just doesn't do that. She lives music and only feels human when she is playing, but her narration voice is rather grounded, almost matter-of-fact. This is refreshing -- it's how musicians actually talk about music. Music is powerful, suited to a certain mood, tricky, but a solid thing that she lives with.
I really enjoyed her description of her childhood and her relationship with the violin and then the shock when it was taken. What followed was bereft of music, however, and it lacked in language. There's a lot of telling rather than showing, a lot reflection, looking for reasons and excuses, but it feels unresolved, unfinished. Like she's not sure what she can admit quite yet, what was important and what wasn't. The ending feels raw, which isn't a terrible thing, but it's very much in contrast to the certainty of the first half of the book. The writing is effective but not exactly whole.
I got a free copy to review from First to Read.
There was a delay between when I downloaded this book and when I read it, and that delay was long enough that I mis-remembered the genre, thinking it was a novel and not a memoir. About fifty pages in, I looked it up again because it really didn't feel right. Most novels about music and musicians are rather flowery, trying to establish in language the magic of an aural art form. She just doesn't do that. She lives music and only feels human when she is playing, but her narration voice is rather grounded, almost matter-of-fact. This is refreshing -- it's how musicians actually talk about music. Music is powerful, suited to a certain mood, tricky, but a solid thing that she lives with.
I really enjoyed her description of her childhood and her relationship with the violin and then the shock when it was taken. What followed was bereft of music, however, and it lacked in language. There's a lot of telling rather than showing, a lot reflection, looking for reasons and excuses, but it feels unresolved, unfinished. Like she's not sure what she can admit quite yet, what was important and what wasn't. The ending feels raw, which isn't a terrible thing, but it's very much in contrast to the certainty of the first half of the book. The writing is effective but not exactly whole.
I got a free copy to review from First to Read.
April 10, 2017
Unlike the description in the Goodreads blurb about this memoir, I found Min Kym's Gone to be a very far cry from 'spellbinding.'
This was the first 'uncorrected proof' that I've received that I felt lived up to its name. The amount of typos and errors throughout the pages was jarring and made the already short, choppy sentences that much more choppy and lacking readability.
In addition to that, I was quite bored until the action, so to speak, began, in the fourth chapter, when Min's violin gets stolen. It is here that I finally understood her deep, almost maternal connection with her Stradivarius, and where I started to feel a personal connection to the author. Having played the violin as a young girl, I thought I would understand it instantly, but I was no prodigy. I never felt the love of an instrument as Min has, and it opened my eyes to the intensity of the world of prodigious children who grow up to be musical superstars. I really began to feel the pain at her loss of her most precious possession. I feel my rating would have been lower had there not been some kind of drama, and I wish that it had been introduced sooner, as it felt very slow-burning and dry until chapter 4 came along. Her upbringing, while unusual, was not altogether that interesting to keep hold of my attention.
Thank you to Penguin First to Read for the opportunity to read this book in advance.
This was the first 'uncorrected proof' that I've received that I felt lived up to its name. The amount of typos and errors throughout the pages was jarring and made the already short, choppy sentences that much more choppy and lacking readability.
In addition to that, I was quite bored until the action, so to speak, began, in the fourth chapter, when Min's violin gets stolen. It is here that I finally understood her deep, almost maternal connection with her Stradivarius, and where I started to feel a personal connection to the author. Having played the violin as a young girl, I thought I would understand it instantly, but I was no prodigy. I never felt the love of an instrument as Min has, and it opened my eyes to the intensity of the world of prodigious children who grow up to be musical superstars. I really began to feel the pain at her loss of her most precious possession. I feel my rating would have been lower had there not been some kind of drama, and I wish that it had been introduced sooner, as it felt very slow-burning and dry until chapter 4 came along. Her upbringing, while unusual, was not altogether that interesting to keep hold of my attention.
Thank you to Penguin First to Read for the opportunity to read this book in advance.
February 17, 2021
This is one of those books that reminds you why reading is such a joy. There are so many potential lives to be lived and as we can’t live them all books provide an amazing portal to glimpse others experiences and dreams.
Min Kym was a child prodigy, is an incredible violinist and writes with a beautiful lyrical style. This book is her memoir of what that is all like from the highs of great mentors, performing in concerts, winning awards and capturing music to the lows of many abusive relationships (which could be seen to be shaped by being a child prodigy), the theft of her violin and the difficulties of the lonely path towards success.
While my knowledge of music is extremely limited at best, I loved this look into the music world, especially the dedication that goes into the music and the instrument. A really wonderful read, I’m now off to find some music played by Min Kym.
April 20, 2022
Like most others, I know very little about the world of being a high-level classical musician. In addition to providing us with a glimpse of the maniacal focus of classical violin players, this book provides astute insights into the world of being a child prodigy and the dangers that lurk as such individual moves from childhood to adulthood. Along the way, we learn about the shifting sands between someone who was born in South Korea and raised in the UK, and the many, many cultural shifts that occur.
Most of all, however, this book is a love story of a woman and the instrument that called to her and allowed her to blossom. In that sense, the book is well worth reading by anyone. It is a quick, well-written read. Min makes several decisions that she learns to regret -- as have most of us. She provides a stunning and quickly drawn picture of how painful it can be to make sure decisions in the public eye.
Most of all, however, this book is a love story of a woman and the instrument that called to her and allowed her to blossom. In that sense, the book is well worth reading by anyone. It is a quick, well-written read. Min makes several decisions that she learns to regret -- as have most of us. She provides a stunning and quickly drawn picture of how painful it can be to make sure decisions in the public eye.
April 11, 2020
A surprisingly gripping tale about the life of a child prodigy and what happens when her violin is stolen. The writing is clear and to the point, if a bit corny at times. Made me feel for her and that's why I love a good memoir!!
December 22, 2022
A good read that kept me very interested in her story and classical music!
One gets a good look into Min’s journey and most importantly her musical gift and strong emotional and spiritual connection she had with her Strad. Heart tugging at various points throughout especially the innocence during her childhood and the pure joy of discovering her gift. She captures the emotions felt very well with her words. As someone who was raised in an Asian household, it really embedded some values in her that continued to elude her from discovering her identity, needs and desires.
There’s a lot of reflection by Min about her time with Matt/Jason, when she was vulnerable but it came off at some points as her not really taking responsibility or being helpless/exploited during those points, appearing to exaggerate the blame she casts on them which made it a bit of a put off as the blame kept going.
One gets a good look into Min’s journey and most importantly her musical gift and strong emotional and spiritual connection she had with her Strad. Heart tugging at various points throughout especially the innocence during her childhood and the pure joy of discovering her gift. She captures the emotions felt very well with her words. As someone who was raised in an Asian household, it really embedded some values in her that continued to elude her from discovering her identity, needs and desires.
There’s a lot of reflection by Min about her time with Matt/Jason, when she was vulnerable but it came off at some points as her not really taking responsibility or being helpless/exploited during those points, appearing to exaggerate the blame she casts on them which made it a bit of a put off as the blame kept going.
September 26, 2022
Wow, this was just an absolutely heartbreaking tale, and one I could totally relate to, as my two kiddos both play violin (although they're not kids any longer) and one got very, very attached to her first full-size violin, in fact still won't give it up.
If you don't play, you almost can't imagine the agony of having an instrument, something that's been a part of you for hours every day, every waking moment, in every thought you've had for a decade, stolen -- taken from you!
It's very much like losing a spouse, and the author was very brave to share her story.
That there are thieves like this, in the world, trolling the spaces we frequent, just looking for these kinds of "marks" is a little chilling, as well.
An excellent read!
If you don't play, you almost can't imagine the agony of having an instrument, something that's been a part of you for hours every day, every waking moment, in every thought you've had for a decade, stolen -- taken from you!
It's very much like losing a spouse, and the author was very brave to share her story.
That there are thieves like this, in the world, trolling the spaces we frequent, just looking for these kinds of "marks" is a little chilling, as well.
An excellent read!
April 24, 2017
Music has always been in Min Kym's blood and from the moment she held the violin for the first time she knew this instrument would make her happy. As a child prodigy her career as a musician was settled. She played with the most inspiring teachers, who were impressed by her talent and she won many prestigious prizes. When, at the age of twenty-one, Min Kym found the instrument of her dreams, a Stradivarius from 1696, she knew she'd have a brilliant future together with her beloved instrument. Unfortunately the good times didn't last, Min Kym lost the instrument that felt like an extra limb, someone stole it from her. Because this violin was her soul mate her life stopped having meaning. When she lost her Stradivarius, she lost a big part of herself.
In Gone: A Girl, A Violin, A Life Unstrung Min Kym writes about her life. Music is the most important part of who she is. Her Stradivarius wasn't just an instrument, it was part of her soul. Losing it meant she lost much more than just the instrument itself, she stopped being able to live. A thief took her identity from her and that left a huge hole that isn't easily filled. Min Kym has always worked hard to become a top musician. She has so much talent, she instinctively knows how her favorite instrument works and she can hear things others aren't capable of hearing. She's an admirable person with plenty of determination. Even though she has a sad story to tell, her honest writing and the abundance of interesting information she shares are making her book intriguing and compelling without ever losing the integrity she has in spades.
Min Kym openly tells about her life. She writes about her family, her teachers, the instruments she had the chance to play and her victories and failures. She describes the things she's done well in the same amount of detail as the things that have gone wrong. This made me respect her even more than I already did before I started reading her book. Min Kym might have lost her one true love, but she's strong, she shares her story with the world and she tries to find a way out of the black hole the theft made her fall in. She's a fascinating person with a story to tell and she does this with dignity, she writes in an intelligent and insightful way. I read her book in one sitting, it's moving, intense and heartbreaking, but there's also a glimmer of hope for the future. I wish with all my heart that she finds herself again and will be able to go back to the love of her life, making music she enjoys, so she can heal again.
In Gone: A Girl, A Violin, A Life Unstrung Min Kym writes about her life. Music is the most important part of who she is. Her Stradivarius wasn't just an instrument, it was part of her soul. Losing it meant she lost much more than just the instrument itself, she stopped being able to live. A thief took her identity from her and that left a huge hole that isn't easily filled. Min Kym has always worked hard to become a top musician. She has so much talent, she instinctively knows how her favorite instrument works and she can hear things others aren't capable of hearing. She's an admirable person with plenty of determination. Even though she has a sad story to tell, her honest writing and the abundance of interesting information she shares are making her book intriguing and compelling without ever losing the integrity she has in spades.
Min Kym openly tells about her life. She writes about her family, her teachers, the instruments she had the chance to play and her victories and failures. She describes the things she's done well in the same amount of detail as the things that have gone wrong. This made me respect her even more than I already did before I started reading her book. Min Kym might have lost her one true love, but she's strong, she shares her story with the world and she tries to find a way out of the black hole the theft made her fall in. She's a fascinating person with a story to tell and she does this with dignity, she writes in an intelligent and insightful way. I read her book in one sitting, it's moving, intense and heartbreaking, but there's also a glimmer of hope for the future. I wish with all my heart that she finds herself again and will be able to go back to the love of her life, making music she enjoys, so she can heal again.
May 26, 2017
No violin meant more to former child prodigy and then professional soloist Min Kym than the 1696 Stradivarius she found at age twenty-one. When, years later, thieves steal her violin from her, they essentially steal much more than a wooden instrument. Min Kym relates her story of losing her violin and finding her voice in her memoir, Gone: A Girl, a Violin, a Life Unstrung.
This author brings not only music but also her instrument itself to life through her words, so that her violin is thoroughly personified on the page. I'll confess that the extent of it made me uncomfortable at times, as I don't believe I'll ever feel so deeply for an object.
But, as a writer and a bibliophile, it's not like I don't get it. (I mean, you may not see me when I hug a novel I'm reading or kiss the spine of one of my own books when it's finally in print, but know that I do get it.)
I won't pretend that I understood all of the author's musical language, or that I recognized all of the renowned names she mentioned--some I did, some I didn't. I also had a little trouble following the logical flow of her thoughts, here and there.
Yet, it's those intangible but very real somethings she taps into through music, those indescribable places where the soul takes flight... Whether one has the experience through music, literature, or dance, through culinary arts or through connecting with loved ones--even if we haven't the words to truly do those places justice, the experiences are universal.
This memoir is a journey, one with soaring highs, desolate lows, and crucial discoveries, and it closes on a note of hope that makes the journey all the more worth it.
_________
Blogging for Books provided me with a complimentary copy of this book for an honest review.
This author brings not only music but also her instrument itself to life through her words, so that her violin is thoroughly personified on the page. I'll confess that the extent of it made me uncomfortable at times, as I don't believe I'll ever feel so deeply for an object.
But, as a writer and a bibliophile, it's not like I don't get it. (I mean, you may not see me when I hug a novel I'm reading or kiss the spine of one of my own books when it's finally in print, but know that I do get it.)
I won't pretend that I understood all of the author's musical language, or that I recognized all of the renowned names she mentioned--some I did, some I didn't. I also had a little trouble following the logical flow of her thoughts, here and there.
Yet, it's those intangible but very real somethings she taps into through music, those indescribable places where the soul takes flight... Whether one has the experience through music, literature, or dance, through culinary arts or through connecting with loved ones--even if we haven't the words to truly do those places justice, the experiences are universal.
This memoir is a journey, one with soaring highs, desolate lows, and crucial discoveries, and it closes on a note of hope that makes the journey all the more worth it.
_________
Blogging for Books provided me with a complimentary copy of this book for an honest review.
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