Henry Cage seems to have it all: a successful career, money, a beautiful home, and a reputation for being a just and principled man. But public virtues can conceal private failings, and as Henry faces retirement, his well-ordered life begins to unravel. His ex-wife is ill, his relationship with his son is strained to the point of estrangement, and on the eve of the new millennium he is the victim of a random violent act which soon escalates into a prolonged harassment.

As his ex-wife’s illness becomes grave, it is apparent that there is little time to redress the mistakes of the past. But the man stalking Henry remains at large. Who is doing this? And why?

David Abbott brilliantly pulls this thread of tension ever tighter until the surprising and emotionally impactful conclusion. The Upright Piano Player is a wise and acutely observed novel about the myriad ways in which life tests us—no matter how carefully we have constructed our own little fortresses.

It was a game Jane played, spotting the sexual motifs in an author’s work. Most writers of literary novels, she had found, repeated themselves; Updike was perhaps the most obvious exception, though latterly, even he had become predictable. She was not surprised by this erotic continuity. It is notoriously difficult to write convincing sex scenes and if a writer manages to pen one that does not provoke ridicule the temptation to use it again, with slight variations, must be immense.
“In his first book it was in a lift, in his second against a car, and now it’s upright in a forest—there’s lichen on her thighs.”

I read this “short” book in about a day. Started off with a child’s death being dragged away by a seatbelt in a carjacking. Then the story seems to forget about that for a while and focus on the grandfather of said child, a now retired man as he spends his days in cafés and away on holiday.

Through disjointed scenes, we meet Henry’s ex-wife, Nessa, his grown son, Tom, and his wife, Jane, and the grandson, Hal. We continue by also meeting a rascally character, Colin, and his girlfriend, Elaine. Then there is Maude, Ed, and Charles then Walter, Mrs. Abrahamson, and Jack.

There are so many characters! It’s hard to keep track after a while – it’s easier with George R.R. Martin’s cast of players!

Henry kicks out Nessa because of an affair. His son is distraught and cuts him off. Nessa has cancer and is dying. Jack loves her. Henry has a grandson and he doesn’t know. Colin is an unsavory character who has anger issues. Elaine has a rockin’ bod. Maude is peripheral and I can’t understand her part. Ed, Charles, and Mrs. Abrahamson.

There’s a lot of violence in this book and a lot of acts of voyeurism. I got bored once I reached about the half-way point. The book just seems to be about a random man in England who lived a very sad life and walked around in circles, interacting with characters that offered him nothing and did not enhance the story except the mental images of naked women which might be titillating to some.

…she led him by the hand into her bedroom. He was breathless from the stairs and hesitated at the door. She sat on the bed and lifted her shirt over her head. He gave an involuntary gasp. Her skin was olive and her breasts extraordinarily beautiful, unexpectedly full—the nipples ringed with bold circles the color of milk chocolate. Later, he believed he had tasted vanilla in the creases of her body.