Every Good Boy Does More Than Fine
Jeremy Denk's memoir not only delivers a wonderfully entertaining life story, but also a valuable textbook of musical concepts
A seven-year-old Jeremy Denk finally received his first piano in 1977. It was a reconditioned Behning, he explains:
“It arrived with a few caveats. There were no wheels—the legs were nestled in wooden blocks, painted an unmatchable and sullen white. Once in place, there was no moving it. The black case was covered in graffiti (TK hearts RF, LADIES LIKE IT), and the ivory keys were yellowed and chipped, like eighty-eight British teeth. Eventually it came out that the piano had been in a burlesque house in Atlantic City. Dad explained to me that burlesque was a different kind of Muppet Show. Mom chuckled.”
- pg. 14
And so begins Denk’s irresistible memoir. Now at 51, Jeremy Denk has emerged as one of the most accomplished concert pianists of the last decade. Performing with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields and the Edinburgh Festival and many other top orchestras, Denk’s recording of the Goldberg Variations reached number one on Billboard’s Classical Chart. Part of what makes Denk’s story so appealing is how unremarkable it is. Not that his talent or person is unremarkable. But his story — in many ways — is typical: young talent, works hard, gets into good music school, continues graduate studies, and through hard work and perseverance achieves his goals. But being typical does not mean boring.
In addition to being a successful concert pianist, Jeremy Denk is equally successful as a writer, appearing in such publications as The New York Times, The Guardian, and The New Yorker. And, boy, does it show. Denk’s flowery prose hits all the right notes as he explains the drudgery, stress, and challenges of the craft and of music school. His tone is pitch perfect in presenting concepts both accessible to non-musicians and a joy to read for musical experts. When reflecting on a specific piano lesson devoted to making sure his thumb positioning was correct, he laments, “I wondered Will I ever be done with the thumb? The answer was No, never. The thumb is a transit system, helping to lubricate scales, arpeggios, passages of all kinds. It is at once an anchor and a springboard. It’s the finger that often forgets it’s a finger.”
Writing about music is perilous. On the one hand it is trying to describe moods and sounds. On the other it is dealing with notes in black and white. The danger of the former is that writing about the joy of music can come across masturbatory and overindulgent in its description. The danger of the latter being that one can end up merely giving a play by play of the piece which is the kiss of death in making music analysis interesting and readable. Denk manages to mostly avoid both of these, though, on occasion, runs into some indulgence. But, this is so minor and forgivable, especially given the balance of the book’s insight and wit.
“[Sonatinas] follow a formula: You start with a cheerful tune and then play some scales, wrapping things up with the classical equivalent of “jazz hands.” At the beginning of the second half, you get one semi-surprising shift, as if the piece were about to become interesting. This is just a decoy—soon you have to play the same dippy tunes and scales all over again. Sonatinas could be considered instruments of torture, despite and because of how happy they seem.” - pg. 15
Every Good Boy Does Fine lists the pieces that are discussed in each respective chapter with a “playlist” heading. Though I’m mostly very well acquainted with the pieces Denk explains, I found myself truly enjoying listening along as he eloquently analyzes the action (the audiobook, read by Denk himself, actually plays the notes and pieces — in part — in the background). Dividing the lessons into three main categories of harmony, melody, and rhythm, Denk peppers his prose with philosophical musical ideas that are articulate and relevant without being pretentious; pretentiousness being another pitfall of musical writing. “This is an important lesson about the written musical score: In some ways, for all its virtues, it doesn’t want to be seen. It ‘is’ the piece, and yet its most important task is to disappear,” he explains. At nearly every point, Denk does not allows his success or his indulgence to get the best of him, approaching most of his life’s events with humility and humor.
“If not a virtuoso pianist yet, I was a virtuoso complainer.” - pg. 58
Every Good Boy Does Fine is a memoir that is greater than the sum of its already great parts. Denk combines his life with musical lessons in such intimate detail that I’m not sure which element benefits more from the other. And that’s the point.