I suspect there are musicians who get some use out of books presenting the transcribed solos of an Art Tatum or Charlie Parker, but I have yet to meet one who has claimed any benefit from trying to read page after page of seemingly endless note-streams. Thankfully, that is not the approach of this book. Nor is this necessarily the book for the impatient pragmatist who, having recently heard "Kind of Blue" or the 1961 "Village Vanguard Sessions," wants to be able to play like the pianist on the recording.
If you're looking for a simplified approach to sounding like Bill Evans, or for a book offering lots of hand-holding, good luck finding one. Reilly places Evans' music in the category of the greats--Bach, Chopin, Schoenberg, Stravinsky, Art Tatum--and, rather than wasting words, devotes sixty solid pages to helping the reader understand not only Evans' greatness but the very criteria by which "greatness"--at least in the areas of music composition and jazz improvisation--must be measured.
In short, it's a book from which any reader with a serious interest in music along with some familiarity with musical notation and a willingness to be challenged by a modicum of theory can benefit. Certainly its relevance should not be limited to Evans' enthusiasts or even to pianists. Erasing the often-superficial, misleading and narrow boundaries between classical and modernist art, "high" art and "popular" art, Reilly is able to "freeze" and then dissect those representative moments of musical consciousness that allow privileged access to creative genius. Whether the reader chooses simply to marvel at the recognition of a universal pattern and its permutations or to play and apply the author's revelations is a personal decision not essential to reaping the rewards of this heady study.
This is not to say that the book is "impractical" or in any way inaccessible. The author may not underestimate the challenges but neither does he underestimate the ability of the reader or aspiring player who is willing "to work." Supplementing his cogent analyses with personal anecdotal material and occasionally talking directly to the reader in plain and no-uncertain terms, he makes the final destination seem within reach if only because of its inherent value. It's no longer your mother's voice ordering you "to practice" but the author simply reminding you that "Bill Evans' music is worth it." And by that point, you will understand why.
One quibble: Because some listeners' experiences with Bill Evans' music are limited to the two aforementioned recordings, a short list of recommendations of the best recorded examples for use in connection with the analyses in the text might be welcomed by some readers.