Eavesdropping on his family's bitterness, guilt, and expectations of his future, Buster Rosen, an unusual child endowed with remarkable musical talent, decides to remain in his mother's womb, refusing to be born
Bernice Rubens was born in Cardiff, Wales in July 1928. She began writing at the age of 35, when her children started nursery school. Her second novel, Madame Sousatzka (1962), was filmed by John Schlesinger filmed with Shirley MacLaine in the leading role in 1988. Her fourth novel, The Elected Member, won the 1970 Booker prize. She was shortlisted for the same prize again in 1978 for A Five Year Sentence. Her last novel, The Sergeants’ Tale, was published in 2003. She was an honorary vice-president of International PEN and served as a Booker judge in 1986. Bernice Rubens died in 2004 aged 76.
My own experience may have tainted my response to this book but I found it cruel. There were two characters, Robert and Mrs Singer (unfortunately rarely allowed to shine), who showed some compassion and injected some humour but otherwise the characters were selfish and greedy. I can dispel reality when the story is worthy but this was not. Sorry, and I know this seems petty, but Buster - really!!!
I rarely read the description before plunging in, so my expectation from the cover image was that Rubens may have written about an outcast oddball music teacher. Having sampled the aniseed-anchovy bitterness of Rubens before, I still wasn't ready for the randomness of 'Spring Sonata'. What we get is a violin-snatching foetus who plays music in his mother-to-be's womb, who spends much of the rest of his time passing judgement on his future family. Rubens borrows from Buddhism as this is actually the rebirth of a former 8 year old child mown down by traffic.
It strongly recalled to me Ian McEwan's later 'Nutshell' (2016), which could well have been influenced by Rubens. Is there in fact a canon based on the views of the pre-born? I can see it is a tempting angle for those like McEwan and Rubens whose views of the material world would hardly trouble a Medieval dualist. Harboured safe from the wider planet by their placenta, the embryonic individuals in these books can pass judgement on a material world without recourse to the angelic arcaneries of any spiritual world.
As often with Rubens, it seems, none of the characters are remotely sympathetic. We get four generations (including the baby) reeling from an inheritance of hard-words and tongue-inflicted cuts. Overbearing, judgemental and pointedly cruel to their offspring, each parent passes on a legacy of poison for the next generation. Meanwhile, our embryo notes its distain in a (presumably tiny) book, and somehow plays a full-sized violin to selectively play along to his mother's wishes. But as to whether he wants to be born...
Rubens is best in small quantities given the unremitting bitterness of its dialogue. This one stands up well, though, as it is memorable, thought-provoking and strong on escapism.
Bernice Rubens never fails to deliver immensely readable very well written stories despite the extraordinary theme of this book. Buster is Sheila's 4 year old unborn child who is a genius with the violin! He eavesdrops on conversations and refuses to play for an audience apart from his parents.
A tragi-comic fantasy of a baby who refuses to be born. He’s sussed out the plans for his fabulous future his family have already drawn up. When I read this book I was working in Child Psychiatry at a famous clinic in Swiss Cottage and was well aware of overly ambitious parents- not all Jewish, by any means. While there are many parents who neglect or abuse their offspring, excessive expectations aren’t particularly nurturing for those recipients of parental control.
We don’t own our children, and must respect the people they will become. It is nature and nurture together that form us.
This is a book that is particulalrly absurbed. A phoetus decides he does not want to be born into such an awful family so, whilst stealing a violin and a bow and a doctors notebook and pencil during a failed caesarian, becomes a maestro musician and diarist whilst remaining in the womb. It is a style of writing that is lost in contemporary literature but there is a lot of Becket and Kafka here albeit in a domestic Jewish family.
A modern fable about identity, art and how to have either when you are part of a family. While the book could be applicable to any ethnicity - it is particularly relevant to Jewish families.