Brooklyn lawyer Liza Durbin doesn’t have any warning that her body is about to host a 19th century German composer; one minute she is shopping, and the next she is sitting down at the department store piano, playing a beautiful, complex piece of music. Certainly the grade school piano lessons she suffered through didn’t prepare her for this sudden virtuosity. In no time at all, Liza figures out that Franz Schubert’s presence is living inside her. Theirs is an uneasy alliance; although Liza retains control of her body most of the time, occasionally she engages in bizarre behavior that can only be explained by Schubert’s startled reactions to 21st century New York. They don’t communicate in words, but Liza gradually comes to understand her guest’s emotions. She grows to welcome the joy that Schubert experiences when they play piano together, but worries that if she lets her guard down, he will take over her body and she will lose herself entirely.  

There are other complications as well. Now compelled to play piano on a regular basis, Liza attracts the attention of a prickly, demanding Julliard music teacher who propels Liza towards instant stardom by scheduling a Carnegie Hall concert. While some of her closest family and friends know and accept Liza’s secret, she is strangely reluctant to share the truth with her boyfriend Patrick, who becomes much more amorous and attentive when confronted with Liza’s new talents. And there are always the nagging questions: why did Franz Schubert pick Liza – a non-musical, unremarkable lawyer? Does he have unfinished business that he has returned to accomplish? And what happens when and if he vanishes as abruptly as he appeared?  

LoveSpell books tackle this type of plot on a regular basis and is ignored by literary critics. So what does Sleeping With Schubert do to earn mainstream buzz and the chance to become a major motion picture? At times it’s hard to tell. Debut novelist Bonnie Marson seems to have bitten off more than she can chew and frequently loses control of her plot, especially in the book’s expository first half. Of course there has to be a suspension of disbelief to accept the unusual premise, but Marson doesn’t even try to explain how and why Schubert attaches himself to Liza Durbin. Nor is there any mystery about what is happening to her; by page 16 Liza is fully aware that she’s hosting a famous composer. I like a fast-paced story, but solving this riddle so quickly takes away some of the potential suspense and eliminates an early opportunity for the reader to sympathize with Liza while she figures out what’s going on.  

And frankly, Liza isn’t always easy to sympathize with. She comes across as pretty selfish, taking advantage of her platonic guy friend Fred, yet accusing him more than once of betraying her without any evidence. She has never quite forgiven her glamorous younger sister for stealing and then marrying her college boyfriend, but her own great love affair with Patrick is tainted by the fact that both were married to other people when they became involved (I guess that’s what makes the book edgy and acceptable; it’s not very romantic).  

But the book does have its strengths, especially in the second half, when Marson gains better control over the story. At various times it is funny, dramatic and suspenseful, and Marson accurately pokes gentle fun at the merchandising of today’s celebrities. Although the secondary characters aren’t all likeable, they are well-developed and believable, and Liza’s attention to a young protégé compensates for her earlier self-centeredness. Franz Schubert himself doesn’t get much of a chance to make an impression until later in the book when Liza starts experiencing his dreams and memories, but by the end the reader roots for his spirit to find the peace it deserves. Ultimately, what redeems the novel is Liza’s growing understanding of the power of music, and the way that creative arts can transform our lives.  

If you are ready for a cross between LoveSpell and Red Dress Ink, you might find yourself more entertained than frustrated by Sleeping With Schubert. While I can’t recommend it wholeheartedly, it’s an entertaining concept and a promising debut.  

--Susan Scribner