Random Monday seems to have gone down rather well last week (and thanks again to the All Lit Up girls for giving me the inspiration).

For those who missed it, the basic premise is this: I go to random.org, and the number it throws up is matched against my LibraryThing catalogue, and I talk about the book in question. This week the random number generator has given me number 1233.

I Found My Horn: One Man’s Struggle with the Orchestra’s Most Difficult Instrument by Jasper Rees

Honestly, I cannot for the life of me remember when I bought this. I think it must have been two or three years ago. I do know that I bought it on a whim in the dearly departed Borders in Oxford. The music section of a bookshop isn’t where I usually gravitate to, but if my fiance has ever been dragged into a bookshop with me, I can guarantee that I’ll find him, often cross-legged on the floor, in the music section. And there I found him one day. While he was finishing up his musical browsing, I spotted this, and thought it sounded good, so I bought it. Simple as that. Random, impulse purchase.

I have never played the french horn, but I did play the cello in orchestras from school right up to university (I lost interest in my first year of undergraduate). I have very fond memories of it. Indeed, I much preferred playing in an orchestra to playing solo. I don’t like lots of attention being directed at me, so being one of several cellists was an altogether preferable situation. I miss it. I still have the cello I was bought for my 12th birthday (my first full size cello) and I keep promising myself that I’ll take it up again. One day.

But what of this book? Well, I never finished it. From what I remember, though, our author had played the french horn as a youngster, but put it down and never picked it back up again. As an adult he was prompted to give it another shot, and set himself the challenge of playing a solo piece, in public, one year from then. Now, as the subtitle tells us, the french horn is a notoriously tricky beast, and many professional horn players were staggered at Rees’s intention. Interspersed with his humorous tale of trying to (re)learn this difficult instrument, there are chapters detailing the history of the french horn and the composers who wrote for it.

I honestly can’t remember why I put it down. I think an essay might have got in the way. Perhaps I should finish it. Or, even better, take up the cello again, and write a book about my adventures.