Reviewed by Jerry Levy
On the face of it, they seemed to have little in common, Max, a math professor (whose specialities include topological quantum field theory, invariants of manifolds, homotopical algebra, and moduli spaces…whatever those bewildering things might be), and Amy, a singer-songwriter whose repertoire includes puddle jumping, rainbows, butterflies, racoons, dragons, and crayons.
Perhaps though we shouldn’t be so hasty to judge because we know that mathematics is used to study elements of music such as tempo, rhythm, chord progression, and meter. For instance, Pythagoras, the ancient Greek philosopher and mathematician (and the bane of every high school student forced to learn Pythagoras’ theorem in geometry), understood that the pitch of a vibrating string, such as on a violin, guitar, or piano, can be controlled by its length – the shorter the string, the higher the pitch, and the longer the string, the lower the pitch. “All is number!” he concluded.
So maybe there is a clear link between math and music. But still, Max and Amy aren’t theories to uncover; they are, as depicted in Lindsay Zier-Vogel’s second novel, The Fun Times Brigade, a couple, trying to overcome their differences and make the best of things. But it’s not easy as they are often apart, Max vying for tenure placement and Amy’s commitments with her musical group(s). And it becomes especially difficult when baby Alice comes along. For it is then that Amy feels most cut off from the rest of the world, staying at home and nursing Alice, not working at her craft, hardly sleeping, desperately trying not to feel like a failure (as when a nearby coffee shop she frequents is too loud and too busy for her and she can only manage to sit in a patio chair in her backyard with Alice). She envies Max and envisions him spending his days teaching in front of a classroom, interacting with people who share his enthusiasm for math, going to “lunch with colleagues” and having “drinks with his PhD candidates.”
But again, one wonders whether Amy and Max are in fact a good fit. Amy herself wonders as much for one night, after an argument where she tells him that the space between them is growing bigger (for emphasis, she actually waves at the space), she meets at a bar with Samantha, the bassist for “BIKES,” a high-profile indie band, and buys a hot guy at the bar a shot of bourbon, thinking that she is a musician, not some lame undergrad student. She is “a real fucking musician.” It would seem that the gap, the space between her and Max is indeed growing larger. Of course there is always that space between two human beings. An existential space. But as acclaimed author Anne Enright says in her exquisite novel The Wren, the Wren: “We don’t walk down the same street as the person walking beside us. All we can do is tell the other person what we see. We can point at things and try to name them. If we do this well, our friend can look at the world in a new way. We can meet.” Unfortunately, it would seem that our math teacher and musician aren’t able to adequately tell each other what they are seeing. At various times throughout the novel, they can’t meet. Too much emotion, too much ego, perhaps even insecurity, seems to cloud that portal of possibility. “I don’t even know who you are,” Max tells Amy on one occasion.
In alternating chapters, the novel moves seamlessly through time, back and forth in flashbacks, depicting Amy’s initial introduction to Fran and Jim, a well-known folk duo who bring her into the fold to morph into the successful children’s musical group Fun Times Brigade; we also see her interactions with midwives and with her unpredictable, artistic mother, the first time meeting Max (thinking his floppy dark curled hair made him look like a Muppet), their wedding, their first house (Amy telling everyone it was a house that crayons bought!), Alice’s first years, Amy’s introduction to BIKES where she becomes a playing member, coping with a dear friend’s illness, and the problems Amy encounters with being both a mother and a musician. All this and more is explored in Zier-Vogel’s work.
Indeed, being a mother to a young infant would appear especially difficult for a musician, especially a touring one. The grind of the music industry combined with the demands of being a young mother appears incredibly onerous. Lonely and isolating. And bearing in mind Max’s own academic demands, which keeps him in school for many long hours, it all seems like an enormous challenge for Amy, the workload seemingly invisible to everyone but her. Too, the music industry makes little allowance for parents; for instance, it’s well-known that if you are booked to play a concert, you must show up, whether you or your infant are sick; if not, you risk not getting paid or worse, getting removed from your musical group. And getting someone to care for your child on short notice as Amy discovered one day when she was asked to record at Shanly Street Studios with some quality musicians, can be an acute challenge. Not finding anyone, she brought Alice into the studio…recording take after take and then breastfeeding her baby in the hallway, certainly heightened her stress and anxiety. And we as readers can’t help but feel for her.
The Fun Times Brigade is just that, a fun read. But more than just that, far more to be certain, it also delves into some very profound ideas: Illness, loss, infidelity, forgiveness, motherhood, friendship, therapy, success (and what it truly entails), the impermanence of everything (fame and even life itself), and many other deep subjects. It revolves around chasing dreams and the pitfalls associated with same. It touches on the darkness, the underbelly of the music world but that aspect of the novel might have been further extrapolated upon – how the industry is, at bottom, a business, and business is all about making money. And how artists are often seen as commodities, fleeting commodities. As well, that the image-obsessed music industry objectifies young women and youth and mostly considers children as “career killers.” This is certainly not to take anything away from The Fun Times Brigade as it is a well-written and thoroughly enjoyable read, only that had the author wanted to do so, she might have expanded on this darker side of the music industry. As it is, she does a very fine job of illustrating the very joyful side of making music and how it magically enervates one’s soul.
There are interesting references and discussions of musical icons Sarah Harmer, Bruce Cockburn, Gordon Lightfoot, Joni Mitchell, Sharon, Lois & Bram, Stevie Nicks, K.D. Lang, Taylor Swift, Raffi, Neil Young, and others, pulling the reader into an interesting melange perhaps of non-fiction and fiction and adding depth and realism to the narrative. The novel further showcases what can happen when the world turns in a shocking and scary way, and how although that can lead to unrelenting despair, it can also pave the way to a different chapter in one’s life. A more peaceful, better chapter, with an accompanying different perspective.
The Fun Times Brigade is a true page-turner, one of those books you’ll think about long after you’ve finished reading. It is the author’s wonderful follow-up to her acclaimed novel Letters to Amelia and highly recommended.
The Fun Times Brigade is published by Book*hug Press.