The cover image of a girl sitting at a piano was a potent 19th-century cultural theme. It may entice only a limited readership. But anyone who has learnt an instrument or encouraged someone else to learn will enjoy Lloyd’s musical memoir.

I was reeled in early as Lloyd describes, in an easy-to-read style, how she felt at a school reunion when all the ‘old girls’ ask, ‘Do you still play the piano?’ Her fervour for the instrument had waned and she’d formed a love-hate relationship with classical music.

A fascinating account of her musical journey follows, peppered with historical anecdotes of musicians, composers and literary characters. Lloyd looks at the escalation of piano production and the status of a piano in middle-class homes. But the irony of ‘girls at the piano’ is that even though Carl Czerny described piano playing as ‘the most charming and honourable accomplishment for young ladies’, women performing in public was unacceptable.

Lloyd’s journey begins with her toy piano, which she carries everywhere, and watching Schroeder in the Peanuts television series, playing Beethoven with a joyful and passionate connection to his piano.

Eventually, though, the perfection that classical music demands is too much: Lloyd describes the agony of her failing memory during a performance, and the painful, debilitating muscular condition she develops. The improvisation and freedom of jazz in the 21st century entices her. Woven through her own story is that of her grandmother’s journey of music and romance, and she writes with poignant sensitivity how their lives intersect and diverge.

Anyone who has given up an instrument they’ve loved will identify with Lloyd, while all music lovers will appreciate the deep insights and extensive research she shares as she explores the place of music in her life.

Reviewed by Judith Grace