Is this a romance? Or just a sick game of thrill-seeking that will inevitably end badly for one or both parties? Phillips has constructed an intricate plot that unfolds like a turbocharged and reciprocative game of cat and mouse. Donohue and his singer idol don’t know themselves whether this escapade will be redemptive and life-changing — the love story that ends “happily ever after” — or merely fizzle out once the novelty of the intimacy from afar is replaced by a face-to-face meeting.
A novel about celebrityhood risks collapsing into the same hollow tabloid- and publicity-fueled buzz for buzz’s sake that infuses much of our contemporary culture - culture in which the syllable “cult” now supplies the operative meaning. Yet Phillips perceptively circumscribes the human angles below the hype, and forces our attention on what the cult of fame does to those in elevates - as well as to those who do the heavy lifting. What kind of relationship can a fan have with a star? What happens when the line blurs between real life and the ways it is depicted and exploited for a song? Do we love the artist or merely the romantic projections of our own imagination stirred by the music?
I will be forgiven if I praise the “soundtrack” for this novel. No, there is no companion CD that comes along with the book. Yet seldom have I read a work of fiction that is more infused with song. This is the love story for the iPod generation, and a suitable playlist is ready for almost every stage of the tale. Phillips, who was once a jazz musicians (as well as, according to his bio, a child actor, a failed entrepreneur, a speechwriter, and five-time Jeopardy champion), sprinkles his novel with some of the most inspired musical commentary that you will find in any book.
The minor characters contribute to the fun and misdirection of A Song is You. Phillips serves up an aging rocker, who seems dangerously close to falling into a stereotype - except that (again) the author adds the surprising twist that forces us to reconsider our views. We also get fresh takes on the resentful guitarist in the band, the flirtatious director’s assistant, the alcoholic jazz pianist, and even the smug homicide detective. Best of all is Donohue’s brother Aidan, a social misfit with a sharp wit who may be the most entertaining figure in the book His caustic dialogue includes descriptions of his sibling’s consumer electronic remote controls (“black simulacra of deistic control laid out before me like so many thunderbolts. But you will tolerate no Zeus but yourself.”), the MRI unit that checks his health (a “heavenly white training coffin”) and syrupy cabaret music (“the slurpy crooning of the dentured elderly” he complains).
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