People who passionately love Glenn Gould and/or the piano will be enchanted by A Romance on Three Legs. But those of us who merely admire the Canadian pianist and the beauties of keyboard music may wonder why Hafner didn’t write a magazine article instead.

CD 318, a piano with a very light action and great subtlety of sound, was made during World War II by Steinway & Sons. Gould found it among the Steinway stock at Eaton’s in Toronto after searching for several years for a piano that was responsive enough to the touch to allow him to play in the rapid, precise way he cultivated. While he had other pianos, CD 318 was his favourite for years. And just as he insisted on using a low chair modified to his own specifications, Gould had the piano tinkered with constantly by technicians to keep it adjusted to his exacting and somewhat eccentric standards.

Hafner gives us much fascinating detail about piano construction as well as a short life story of Verne Edquist, the blind piano tuner who spent a big chunk of his career working on CD 318 for Gould. She also tries to introduce an element of suspense by hinting from the beginning that this special piano somehow reflects the arc of Gould’s life.

Unfortunately, though, the whole is not as great as the sum of its parts. There are too many details and it lacks focus. Edquist is just a year older than Gould, and their lives intertwine for a while: does Hafner want us to draw some conclusion by comparing them? CD 318 is dinged and scratched when Gould discovers it: should we make a connection between Gould’s bizarre habits and the damaged, but wonderful, piano?

Hafner would have done better to pare things down to the essentials, and if that meant writing a text too short to be considered a book, so be it. Gould, who abandoned concert performances at the height of his career in order to pursue perfection in the recording studio, would have understood.