In my early teens, one of my favourite books was Maestro by Peter Goldsworthy. The relationship between music and artist, teacher and student, the forever-pursuit for an ever-out-of-reach elusive level of musicality, and the eventual disappointment of middle-age really appealed to my martyr-cynic youth.

This book is the real story, the real Paul who in this book is Anna Goldsworthy herself, whose father essentially cannibalised the wonderful Mrs Sivan for his book. This book however, is a much more honest and real account of the journey, the stamina, the commitment, and eventually at some stage, the passion for music, that a pianist (and any other musician) requires. It was marvelous to find out that Mrs Sivan is the passionate larger-than-life piano teacher that Herr Keller was based on because the music/composer analysis was my favourite part of Maestro.

And of course, Goldsworthy's growth from high-achieving child, whose interest in piano was purely academic and rote, to the high-achieving pianist who loves music for its own sake, it was exhilarating and joyful to read. ( )

I am a fan of Anna's father since I read his "Maestro" , which I think is very much based on his sitting in on his daughter's piano lessons with that reputed European teacher. I loved her book, never once thought it self-centered . It was a joy to read of a talented student excelling. ( )

Privileged white Australian with pushy family wins all the prizes at life.

I give this 3* as it is competently written and easy to read. I received the book as a gift, and had no prior idea of who Anna Goldsworthy is (and sadly no particular interest in finding out, subsequent to reading the book). I'm sure I'd have found it far more engaging and less pretentious if I were a classical pianist, but as it was it left me cold ('quel horreur' - having to perform in public on an electric piano). ( )

A fellow senior wannabe-a-better-pianist recommended this work to me and has won my undying affection for so doing. It's an illuminating and inspiring autobiography and loving tribute to her teacher. (For those who condemn it as egocentric: D'uh. Hello, it's an autobiography!) I love how she rendered Mrs Sivan's Russian English. I borrowed it from the library and, before I'd finished reading it, had ordered three copies: 1 to keep and 2 to give away. ( )

Did I like this book? no. I found it to be completely self-indulgent, I, I, I, me, me, me; perhaps it shows that to be successful one must be completely self-centred as well as talented. ( )