Without Music By Pat Conroy Analysis

Author Pat Conroy once said, “Without music, life is a journey through a desert” (Ganz). I could not agree more, although there was a time when that quote wouldn’t have touched me at all. Here is the story of how I came to realize just how much I needed music.

It was a Sunday, and like all other Sundays after church I was chatting with my friends in the parish hall. We were standing next to the door, watching people going in and out, when an old man pushed his walker over to us, and asked me if I was one of the Baker family. When I replied in the affirmative, he introduced himself as Mr. Long, and asked for my name. Then, after a few comments about my height, and a suggestion that I start playing basketball, he left. Over the next few weeks, I got to know Mr. Long a little better. He loved classical music, and would often come over to our house after church

Because his hands shook so much, he had trouble playing the piano himself, so he liked to hear us play instead. When I would play for him, I noticed he didn’t try to teach me as much anymore. He mostly just listened with a smile, often with his eyes closed.

One day, we were at his house, and though I still hadn’t finished learning the Moonlight Sonata, but as he was declining fast, I decided I probably wouldn’t have time to finish it before he went, so I’d play him what I knew. As my fingers pressed the keys, I listened to the sounds that came out. I was thrilled. That piano made everything sound beautiful, even the mistakes. It was almost like I was hearing the piece again for the first time. Mr. Long listened with a smile, eyes closed. When I stopped, he told me, “That was beautiful. You played it very well. Thank you.”

That was when I started to believe I could actually do it. I had to be able to do it. Music was just so beautiful! I suddenly wanted piano lessons more than anything. I needed to learn more. I needed to become better at