What “communicates” with the “creature” inside these characters is music more than speech. This book is short the way Wittgenstein’s “Tractatus” is short—it passes over in silence what language could only obscure and falsify. Garner, like the skilled musician, knows how to leave a silence, how to keep domains of privacy and mystery intact. In “The Children’s Bach,” there are no false resolutions. The efficiency and precision of Garner’s descriptions (Philip, for instance, falls “into strange beds in houses where a boiling saucepan might as easily contain a syringe as an egg”) allows her to accomplish in a sentence what for other writers would require pages of exposition, ruining the effect. And the speed at which decisions unfold—watch Athena’s life beautifully unravel (or are we watching it finally begin?) in the first six paragraphs of her trip to Sydney—reminds us how plot is inseparable from a writer’s prosody, the rhythm of events. When the sentences are as finely tuned as Garner’s, music as much as character is fate.
I don't get the meaning of this sentence clearly. In the first part it says "When the sentences are as finely tuned as Garner’s," but there is nothing after "Garner’s". Can we say "Garner's sentences"? I think it does not make sense! Or can we say: Garner's Prosody?
And I do not get the meaning of second part: "music as much as character is fate". What is the meaning of "fate" here? Is the writer of this essay saying that music is like a character in this novel?
Source: https://www.newyorker.com/books/second-read/unheard-melodies-on-helen-garners-the-childrens-bach