He was playing Bach, to keep his spirits up. The great German, who wasted nothing in his life, asks of the performer only attention and respect; in return for which his music, in which there is no evidence of self-pity, gives courage to those able to perform it.

I read several of Robert Nathan’s books back in the 1980s, and One More Spring was one of that number. I had fond – but vague – memories of it. Reading it again now, I found it very enjoyable, though I came away a little uncertain exactly what the exercise was in service of. (Which is probably the wrong question to ask in the first place.)

The year is 1933, the height or (low point) of the Great Depression. Mr. Otkar, an antiques dealer in New York City, has just lost his business. He sits for the last time in his shop, left with only a few cooking utensils and an ornate, carved bed he can’t find a buyer for. In wanders Mr. Rosenberg, a young, starving violinist. Mr. Otkar, sadly, gives him his last egg to eat. Then they join forces, piling the disassembled bed into a pushcart and taking it to the park, where they spend the night in the open.

The next day, playing for change in the street, Mr. Rosenberg meets Mr. Sweeney, a street cleaner who agrees to let the two men stay in the little shed where his cleaning cart is kept, in exchange for violin lessons. (Mr. Sweeney has great passion for music, but no talent.) Later they are joined by Elizabeth Cheney, a hungry young prostitute with nowhere to go, whom Mr. Otkar meets while they’re both out stealing food.

It’s a strange household they form. Mr. Otkar finds himself surprisingly carefree, liberated from the burdens of owning things. Mr. Rosenberg is tortured by finding no outlet for his art. And Elizabeth just wants love. In time they are joined by Mr. Sheridan, president of a failed bank, saved by Mr. Otkar from a suicide attempt.

Most of Robert Nathan’s books, in my experience (Portrait of Jennie is an exception) tend to fade out in the end, rather than having a dramatic climax. That happens in One More Spring too, though the plot is better resolved than the one in The Bishop’s Wife. This is a book without villains, where everyone means well, and salvation comes through understanding. Also, remarkably, there’s no fantasy element (unless you count so much human kindness as a fantasy). I had a good time reading it.