Lyre of Orpheus

The Cornish Trilogy #3

by Robertson Davies

Baroque and deliciously funny, this third book in The Cornish Trilogy shows Robertson Davies at his very considerable best.

There is an important decision to be made. The Cornish Foundation is thriving under the directorship of Arthur Cornish when Arthur and his beguiling wife, Maria Theotoky, decide to undertake a project worthy of Francis Cornish—connoisseur, collector, and notable eccentric—whose vast fortune endows the Foundation. The grumpy, grimy, extraordinarily talented music student Hulda Schnakenburg is commissioned to complete E.T.A. Hoffmann’s unfinished opera Arthur of Britain, or The Magnanimous Cuckold; and the scholarly priest Simon Darcourt finds himself charged with writing the libretto.

Complications both practical and emotional arise: the gypsy in Maria’s blood rises with a vengeance; Darcourt stoops to petty crime; and various others indulge in perjury, blackmail, and other unsavory pursuits. Hoffmann’s dictum, "the lyre of Orpheus opens the door of the underworld," seems to be all too true—especially when the long-hidden secrets of Francis Cornish himself are finally revealed.

Genres: Fiction, Canada, Literary Fiction, Literature, Canadian Literature, Novels, Music

482 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1988

About the author

William Robertson Davies, CC, FRSC, FRSL (died in Orangeville, Ontario) was a Canadian novelist, playwright, critic, journalist, and professor. He was one of Canada's best-known and most popular authors, and one of its most distinguished "men of letters", a term Davies is sometimes said to have detested. Davies was the founding Master of Massey College, a graduate college at the University of Toronto.

Novels:

The Salterton Trilogy
• Tempest-tost (1951)
• Leaven of Malice (1954)
• A Mixture of Frailties (1958)
The Deptford Trilogy
• Fifth Business (1970)
• The Manticore (1972)
• World of Wonders (1975)
The Cornish Trilogy
• The Rebel Angels (1981)
• What's Bred in the Bone (1985)
• The Lyre of Orpheus (1988)
The Toronto Trilogy (Davies' final, incomplete, trilogy)
• Murther and Walking Spirits (1991)
• The Cunning Man (1994)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robertso...

Reviews

[Майя Ставитская · Rating 5 out of 5]

A multi-figure novel, impeccable compositionally, with bright interesting characters, a distinct intrigue (many intrigues tied in a complicated knot); action in an academic environment, without the slightest sense of a novel on a production topic; Davis is an amazing popularizer, but knowledge is served so respectfully to the reader, who seems to be invited to take part in an intricate intellectual game, that the level of aroused interest, this competes with intrigue. And in everything there is a sense of scale without tedium.

Литературная гениальность Робертсона Дэвиса, очевидная с начальной книги «Корнишской трилогии», которая явилась и моим первым знакомством с писателем, ошеломила до: «Такого не может быть, потому что не может быть никогда». Канадец, о котором прежде ничего не слышала, да не ошибусь ведь, если скажу, что мало кто слышал (есть обойма имен, которые на слуху, хотя никем не читаны). Этот человек внезапно оказался едва ли не самой монументальной фигурой современной мировой словесности. Не заигрывая с читателем модными темами (тройка: инцест, педофилия, наркотический трип), а с критикой - постпост-, пост- и просто модернистскими структурными экспериментами.
Волшебная сила искусства

Крепкий многофигурный роман, безупречный композиционно, с яркими интересными героями, внятной интригой (многими интригами, завязанными сложносочиненным узлом); действие в академической среде, без малейшего ощущения романа на производственную тему; Дэвис потрясающий популяризатор, но знания подаются так уважительно к читателю, которого словно бы приглашают принять участие в замысловатой интеллектуальной игре, что уровнем вызываемого интереса это конкурирует с интригой. И во всем ощущается такой толстоевский масштаб без нудности первого и мучительных терзаний второго, что: «остановился, пораженный Божьим чудом наблюдатель...»

Ненадолго, читательское потрясение погнало к первой книге «Дэпфортской трилогии» и снова то же — он гений с уникальным в современном мире даром говорить о малых мира сего так, что слушаешь, не отрываясь. И он рассказывает о вещах, далеких от читателя, как кольца Сатурна (в «Мятежных ангелах» Рабле и «оживление» старых музыкальных инструментов, в «Пятом персонаже» агиография) так, что это сущностно проникает в душу. И он может говорить о темных семейных тайнах спокойно, без надрыва и биения себя в грудь. И он верит в Бога, даже не так, Бог присутствует в его книгах, не утомляя читателя диспутами о собственном существовании или ужасающими эпифаниями Он просто стоит за всем и пронизывает все.

Космогонию Робертсона Дэвиса стоит рассмотреть подробнее, далекая от ортодоксальности, она допускает существование языческих богов, ангелов и даймонов, незримо стоящих за плечом избранных персонажей. А еще чистилища, где пребывают посмертно талантливые люди, не сумевшие при жизни реализовать полной мерой своего таланта. До тех пор, пока не найдется кто-то, кто поможет завершению их земной работы. Это может быть даже просто человек, прочитавший книгу забытого писателя и оставивший отзыв на нее. В подобной ситуации оказывается автор народно-любимого «Щелкунчика» Эрнест Теодор Амадей Гофман (персонажи романа пользуются аббревиатурой ЭТАГ, не вижу причины не сделать этого тоже).

Двигателем сюжета третьей книги трилогии о Френсисе Корнише становится опера, недописанная Гофманом, заявку на получение гранта для завершения которой подает молодой композитор Хюльда Шнакенбург («Зовите меня Шнак», совершенная социопатка с задатками музыкального гения). Как, вы не знали, что ЭТАГ писал музыку и даже недурная «Ундина», его пера ставится на оперных сценах мира? Я тоже, как не знала и того, что «Амадей» к четверке имен он добавил сам в честь, правильно, Моцарта, перед которым благоговел. Неоконченный труд - опера о Короле Артуре, рабочее название: "Артур или великодушный рогоносец" (историю с Гвиневрой и Ланцелотом все помнят).

Итак, работа над оперой завертелась, а насколько непростое это дело - дописать и поставить на современной сцене оперу, аутентичную новаторским устремлениям начала XIX века, вам расскажут на страницах романа и сделают это интересно (по другому автор просто не умеет) и со знанием дела. Потому что эту кухню Дэвис отлично знал изнутри, ему довелось написать либретто к двум операм. Вообще, знаете, мало кто из ныне (и прежде) живущих писателей обладает этим замечательным свойством - говорить о том, что знаешь, Робертсон Дэвис принадлежит к драгоценному меньшинству. А то, что говорит о многом, лишь подтверждает уникальность сочетания в нем блестящей образованности, широты и литературного гения.

По сути, он проводит читателя в "Корнишской трилогии" через закулисье многих видов изящных искусств: словесность и музыка ("Мятежные ангелы"); живопись, фотография ("Что в костях заложено"); опера, театр ("Лира Орфея"). А еще объясняет законы движения финансов в мире науки и искусства, разительно отличающиеся от тех, по которым функционирует мир, населяемый большинством читателей. И эзотерика: таро, астрология. И объясняет, как принимать многие вещи, с которыми непросто бывает смириться - такая мягкая, интеллигентная и пронизанная любовью психотерапия. Не "глаголом жечь", но помогать разместиться в мире более комфортно для себя и без вреда для мира.

И еще одно замечательное свойство Дэвиса-романиста. Он приводит к логическому завершению все, нет, только представьте, аб-со-лют-но все! линии начатые в романах. Причем завершением той, что начинает первую книгу трилогии (наследство Френсиса Корниша) является финал третьей - идеальное попадание в цель. И еще - он придерживается мягко феминистских, столь любезных моему сердцу, воззрений. И еще - он бывает очень смешным. Закончу тем, чем начала: Робертсон Дэвис был гений.

[°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ʜᴇʟᴇɴ Ροζουλί Εωσφόρος ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° ★·.·´¯`·.·★ Ⓥⓔⓡⓝⓤⓢ Ⓟⓞⓡⓣⓘⓣⓞⓡ Ⓐⓡⓒⓐⓝⓤⓢ Ταμετούρο Αμ · Rating 5 out of 5]

«Δυσώδες παλαιοποικιλοπωλείο της καρδιάς».


“Στον ήχο της μουσικής της λύρας του, οι σκιές μαζεύτηκαν γύρω του σαν τα σμήνη των πουλιών που το πέσιμο της νύχτας ή μια ξαφνική χειμωνιάτικη βροχή τα φέρνει από τα βουνά να κουρνιάσουν στο φύλλωμα των δέντρων.”Ορφέας κι Ευρυδίκη.

«Η λύρα αυτή φέρει το όνομα του θρυλικού μουσικού, ποιητή και μάντη Ορφέα, πατέρα των “Ορφικών Μυστηρίων”.
Με τη δύναμη της μουσικής και του τραγουδιού του μπορούσε να γοητεύσει τα άγρια ζώα, να διεγείρει τα δέντρα και τους βράχους σε χορό, ακόμα και να σταματήσει τη ροή των ποταμών. Στενά συνδεδεμένος με τη θρησκευτική ζωή, ο Ορφέας ήταν οιωνοσκόπος και μάντης. Εξασκούσε μαγικές τέχνες, ιδιαίτερα την αστρολογία, ίδρυσε ή κατέστησε προσβάσιμα πολλά σημαντικά μυστήρια, όπως αυτά του Απόλλωνα και του Θρακικού θεού Διονύσου. Καθιέρωσε τελετουργικά, δημόσια και ιδιωτικά και υπαγόρευσε αρχικές και εξαγνιστικές τελετουργίες».
Και κάπου λόγο πριν την είσοδο στο βασίλειο της θλίψης, η σκοτεινή λύρα του Ορφέα
( έβδομη χορδή) μεταμορφώνει το μουσικό όργανο σε κλειδί για τον κάτω κόσμο, στα ανεξιχνίαστα υψίπεδα της κόλασης.
Στο τρίτο και τελευταίο μέρος της τριλογίας του Κόρνις «Η λύρα του Ορφέα» γράφει, συνθέτει, απαγγέλει, μελοποιεί, και τραγουδάει η ψυχή. Αυτή η ψυχή που έχει βγάλει κακό όνομα στον κόσμο της ατομικής ενέργειας διότι αποτελεί μια πραγματικότητα. Απέχει παρασάγγας απο πειθήνια πλάσματα που ακούν με δέος τις επιστημονικές συζητήσεις για αόρατες οντότητες με μεγάλη σημασία που βρίσκονται παντού. Η ψυχή που κυριαρχεί εδώ δεν είναι μια νεφελώδης επιδίωξη, ούτε κάποιο άπιαστο ιδανικό. Είναι μια υπερδύναμη που ξεχωρίζει τα ζωντανά ανθρώπινα όντα απο την άψυχη ύλη που δίνει δουλειά στους νεκροθάφτες. Πρόκειται για μια ολότητα συνείδησης, ίσως αυτό που ο άνθρωπος γνωρίζει για τον εαυτός του μα και ένα μεγάλο, σκοτεινό και αβυσσαλέο μέρος του που τον παρακινεί, τον γνωρίζει. Κάτι που καθένας χρησιμοποιεί και καταχράται, που επιζητά ή απορρίπτει, αλλά είναι πάντα κάτι αναπόδραστο.
Οι ήρωες απο το κολέγιο-Στοιχειό, καθηγητές, τελειόφοιτοι, χορηγοί, κληρονόμοι και κάμποσοι δορυφόροι τριγύρω τους είναι επιφορτισμένοι οικειοθελώς με την δημιουργία μιας ρηξικέλευθης όπερας. Έχοντας απομεινάρια γραπτών και κομμάτια απο παρτιτούρες του μεγαλουργού της τέχνης
ΕΤΑ Χόφμαν, ψάχνουν λιμπρετίστα και προσπαθούν να ενώσουν τα κομμάτια του παζλ για να παρουσιάσουν τον μύθο του βασιλιά Αρθούρου.

Ο προδομένος βασιλιάς θέλησε να διευρύνει τα όρια του πολιτισμού, απαιτώντας απο τους ιππότες της στρογγυλής τραπέζης και όχι μόνο, απο όλους αυτούς που ο βρετανός βασιλιάς θεωρούσε πως ανήκουν στην αδιαμφισβήτητη αριστοκρατία του αίματος, να ενστερνιστούν την ιδέα της ιπποσύνης α και να μεταμορφωθούν σε αριστοκρατία του άθλου. Όχι σκέτη δύναμη, νικηφόρα και πολεμοχαρής μα ευφυής και ανιδιοτελής έτσι ώστε να καταστεί εύχρηστη για έναν καλύτερο κόσμο για ένα κατανοητό νόημα.
Ο ΕΤΑ Χόφμαν απο τον Άδη περιμένει την αποπεράτωση του έργου του και παράλληλα πιάνει απο το λαιμό τον αναγνώστη και τον μπουκώνει με μεγαλεία. Αυτό ��ξερε να κάνει εν ζωή, ως καλλιτέχνης και δημιουργός, αυτό έκανε και τώρα ως πνευματική πυρηνική έκρηξη τελειότητας.

Αυτό είναι ένα λαμπρό, ζεστό, αστείο, συναισθηματικά ισχυρό ψυχολογικά άμεσα και βαθιά αντιληπτό και ανθρώπινο έργο λογοτεχνικής γεύσης, καλλιτεχνικού χρώματος και κλασικής γήινης μελωδίας με ουράνιους ρυθμούς και αντιπερισπασμούς απο τον Άδη των αθανάτων καλλιτεχνών. Οι χαρακτήρες είναι όλο και πιο συμπαθητικοί, πιο οικείοι, πιο αποδομημένα ανθρώπινοι για τα λάθη τους και φαίνεται πως ο Ντέιβις έκανε την έρευνά του και φανερώνει απροκάλυπτα πως άγεται και φέρεται και εντέλει πως αντιμετωπίζεται το είδος των βιοψυχολογικών λεπτομερειών σχετικά με τους τσιγγάνους, τους τραγουδιστές της όπερας, τους καθηγητές κολλεγίων και τους μυστικούς πράκτορες.
Το τρίτο και τελευταίο μέρος απο την τριλογία του Κορνουαλικού μυθιστορηματικού θρύλου αποτελεί και το επιστέγασμα από συναρπαστικά και περίπλοκα σχέδια, θαυμάσια διορατική σχεδίαση χαρακτήρων και μια σοφή, περίεργη φιλοσοφία.
ΥΣ. Για να μπουκώσετε απο μεγαλείο και λογοτεχνική δεινότητα θα ήταν προαπαιτούμενο σε αυτήν την πεζογραφική τρόικα να έχετε διαβάσει
1) Βίος και πολιτεία του γάτου Μουρ - Συγγραφέας: Hoffmann Ernst Theodor Amadeus
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
2)Ο θάνατος του Αρθούρου - Συγγραφέας: ΜΑΛΟΡΙ ΤΟΜΑΣ
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

🎼🎼


Καλή ανάγνωση.
Πολλούς ασπασμούς.

[Panagiotis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Η Λύρα του Ορφέα, που με την μουσική της ανοίγει τις πύλες του Κάτω Κόσμου - ο Ντέιβις αρχίζει έτσι κρυπτικά τον τρίτο τόμο της τριλογίας του Κόρνις, υποσχόμενος πράματα ονειρικά, περιπετειώδη και όμορφα. Δεν είναι άνθρωπος που δεν κρατάει τον λόγο του, ποτέ δεν ανεβάζει τον πήχη των προσδοκιών δίχως λόγο, γιατί πάντα παραδίδει λογοτεχνία που διεγείρει τις αισθήσεις του τυχερού αναγνώστη.

Αν ο προηγούμενος τόμος ήταν μια περιπλάνηση, ή καλύτερα, καταβύθιση στο ποιόν του Κορνίς, αποθανόντα συλλέκτη έργων τέχνης, εδώ είναι μια διήγηση που τοποθετεί τον ανιψιό του, και διαχειριστή της περιουσίας του, Άρθουρ Κορνίς. Μια παράσταση του μύθου του Αρθούρου που ανεβαίνει, και την οποία χρηματοδοτεί το φερώνυμο ίδρυμα, είναι η ραχοκοκκαλιά της διήγησης. Ο Ντέιβις, φυσικά, βρίσκει εκφάνσεις της ζωής, που συνδέουν το όλον μιας πραγματικότητας - πράγματα που ο πεζός άνθρωπος ουδέποτε παρατηρεί, αλλα ο συγγραφέας εντοπίζει και μηχανεύεται τρόπου να συναρμολογήσει για να πει πως οι ζωές μερικών ανθρώπων, των όχι τόσο κοινών θνητών, είναι μια αλληγορία. Ή ένας μύθος.

Ο Άρθουρ στέκεται ίσως λίγο άτυχος, γιατί φαίνεται πως ο ρόλος του είναι να ζήσει ως ένας άλλος Βασιλιάς Αρθούρος: καταλήγει κερατάς, προϊόν μιας περίπτυξης-γκάφας της γυναίκας του με τον φίλο του και συνοδίτη στις επιδιώξεις του ιδρύματος. Δεν είναι μόνο η ζωή που συντονίζεται με τον θρύλο, αλλά κι άλλα πολλά που τοποθετούν τον Ντέιβις ακόμα πιο ψηλά στην ιεραρχία του πανθέου των σημαντικών μου συγγραφέων.

Ο Ντέιβις βλέπει την ζωή μέσα από το πολυσυλλεκτικό πρίσμα των γνώσεών του και του καλώς εννοούμενο ακαδημαϊσμού του. Η γραφή του έχει χαρακτηριστικά που θα έπρεπε να επιδιώκουν οι συγγραφείς και όχι να επιδίδονται στις απομιμήσεις του συρμού. Δυστυχώς η μάζα έχει άλλη άποψη, και είμαι σίγουρος πως άγεται από ασαφείς επιδιώξεις και γούστα του κώλου. Τοιουτοτρόπως, το έργο του έχει παραβλεφθεί εγκληματικά και για τούτο βεβαιώνομαι ακόμα περισσότερο με το κλείσιμο αυτής της τριλογίας.

[Wanda Pedersen · Rating 5 out of 5]

The (Mostly) Dead Writers Society Author in Residence program 2022

It was my belief that I had never read this final volume of the Cornish trilogy, but as I got started, I began to recognize details dimly here and there. I think I may have had a couple of false starts with it, but this time I have completed the task. That kind of record would lead you to believe that it's a poor book, wouldn't it? Nothing could be farther from the truth!

This book is one of the very last gifts from my mother before her death in a car accident in 1996. She and I were a book club of two, passing novels back and forth, discussing them over pots of coffee, often managing to talk about our own lives through the guise of fiction. I miss her still. And somehow, to read this book was to let go of her in some mysterious way. It has taken me almost 26 years, but I was finally ready.

This is a fitting culmination to the trilogy, giving the Rev. Simon Darcourt his proper place in the sun. The Cornish Foundation funds an opera and manages to “rehabilitate" the redoubtable Francis Cornish, star of the second book. Darcourt gets to resort to some academic skullduggery and leger de main, totally in keeping with his friend Francis' mercurial life.

As usual, Davies provides a plethora of quirky, yet intelligent cast members, quite literally in the case of the opera performers. His time in theatre is obvious when he describes the creative aspects of the job: recruiting singers, constructing sets, arranging schedules, conducting rehearsals, harassing libretticists, etc. No doubt during his time at Massey College he was also involved in the adjudication and bestowing of advanced academic degrees, like that of the talented and obnoxious Schnak.

There is a feeling among readers that the second book of a trilogy is the weakest, even being labelled “second book syndrome.” Davies puts paid to that theory—although all three are fine books, What's Bred in the Bone is easily my favourite of the three. Maybe it's my family's Loyalist stock, but I loved Francis Cornish from Blairlogie to England, to Europe and home again to Toronto. I'm a Virgo, making Mercury and his mischievous influence very attractive, something Francis and I have in common. Like Simon, I've been careful and clandestine about it (as Francis was when he bundled up his preliminary drawings for posterity).

An excellent and fitting conclusion to a masterful triptych.

[Katerina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Так и не разобравшись с Фрэнсисом (что известно деймону, историку известно не всегда), но организовав художественный фонд, наши старые знакомые решаются с помощью грязной и косноязычной, но, по-видимому, талантливой аспирантки восстанавливать недописанную оперу Гофмана "Артур, или Великодушный рогоносец". (Нет, я тоже не знала, что Гофман оперы писал.) Артуру Корнишу, председателю фонда, нравится все, кроме названия произведения, и вот некоторые известные нам лица плюс суровая, но обаятельная тетка из Скандинавии берутся за дело всерьез. Поиск Грааля из словесного становится еще и музыкальным. По ходу сочинения пьесы драма все больше врывается в жизнь, а традиционную оперную интригу вы себе представляете. В общем, очередная конфета, а не книжка.

В Дэвисе я больше всего ценю доброту. В нем много иронии, чудесного юмора, эрудиции, аллюзий и дорогих сердцу филолога словоплетений, но сквозь каждый текст идет бесконечно доброе, нежное, сочувственное отношение к каждому человеку, к каждому дураку и даже прохиндею. От этого его любимые герои сияют, будто звезды, во всей свой человечности.

[W.D. Clarke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Two things:
1) Why do I find myself objecting, more than once, to the framing device—financier Arthur Cornish deciding to become patron of an unfinished opera (by Romantic E.T.A Hoffmann of Tales of… fame) about the legendary King Arthur finds his own life paralleling that of the monarch's (and thereby real-izng the opera's subtitle, "or, The Magnanimous Cuckold"), while I would not so much bat a vermine vebrissa at Gregor Samsa, say, turning into a beetle?
2) Why am I nevertheless sad that it is all over, this multi-year visiting (and in some cases, revisiting) of this career (via this trilogy of trilogies, nine novels in all) of Canada's foremost "man of letters"? Cos I am, I am.

I'll have a bit more to say about the trilogy itself in my brief review of that volume, but as for this one, it was never less than filling, this intellectual feast of a novel—even if the main course was arguably a tad overdone, the many, many toasts to Art, to Life, and to Life in Art kept the taste buds dancing, and the spirits…flowing. As with all of Davies (as with all of Bellow?), one is tempted to read this as a psychomachia. This quotation from near the end of the novel (quoting Keats) confirmed that temptation as justified:

‘A Man’s life of any worth is a continual allegory’.

What Davies means by this is a little bit clearer in a longer passage from some pages earlier: if we are to read this novel (or these three trilogies) as allegories for the author's life in art, then we must begin to appreciate that he has ransacked the careers of Rabelais, Hoffmann, and even C.G. Jung (etc.) in search of a mode whereby he could create that art (that life) in a way that is as true as possible to his deepest concerns. This is a man who knows the history of the novel, and chooses to work in a by-gone mode anyway, because even if that is not a path that pushes the novel "forward", it is one that that is the only honest mode for him:

If a man wants to paint a picture that is intended primarily as an exercise in a special area of expertise, he will do so in a style with which he is most familiar. If he wants to paint a picture which has a particular relevance to his own life-experience, which explores the myth of his life as he understands it, and which, in the old phrase, “makes up his soul”, he is compelled to do it in a mode that permits such allegorical revelation. Painters after the Renaissance, and certainly after the Protestant Reformation, have not painted such pictures with the frankness that was natural to pre-Renaissance artists. The vocabulary of faith, and of myth, has been taken from them by the passing of time. But Francis Cornish, when he wanted to make up his soul, turned to the style of painting and the concept of visual art which came most naturally to him. He did not feel himself bound to be “contemporary”. Indeed, he had many times laughed at the notion of contemporaneity in conversation with both Hollier and Darcourt, mocking it as a foolish chain on a painter’s inspiration and intention.

Now, normally I would be the first to complain of a contemporary (or just about any Canadian) novel "ignoring" its forerunners in the history of the novel and acting as if Joyce (etc.) never happened, and giving the 21st century reader second-rate social realism, say, or second-rate psychological realism (à la first-raters Eliot and James respectively)—manifesting ignorance of the evolutionary trajectory of the form a solecism that painters and musicians (almost) never commit. But Mr. Davies makes his case for following your personal muse in spite of that history--when the only honest mode open to you as an artist is a mode from the past, have the courage to follow your inner promptings and create the life, and the work, that only you can make. You did just that, Mr. Davies, and you are missed. And: Bravo, maestro!

[Jan Rice · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm supposed to have read this book the first time circa 1992, completing The Cornish Trilogy, of which it's the third--but I'll have to take my word for it. I remembered very little beyond the bald beginnings, possibly being so wowed by the second book of the trilogy, What's Bred in the Bone, that I just wanted the story of that protagonist to continue--which was not possible since the author had killed him off at the end of that book. Then, too, The Lyre of Orpheus centered around opera, with which I'm on more distant terms, to say the least, than with the Renaissance art of What's Bred in the Bone. For most of the book, it was like reading it for the first time. The former protagonist's life is front and center for part of the novel after all, and the subject of the opera in question is Arthurian legend. This one, though, with its divided thrust, is a little more muted than the other Robertson Davies books I've read. But it's the same wise, witty, and urbane writing that I love. Davies is a teacher of western civilization at its high point. That last observation is something that never would have occurred to me in the '90s but occurs now, in contrast to the point we're now reaching.

[Nickolas B. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Τρίτο και τελευταίο μέρος της αριστουργηματικής Τριλογίας των Κόρνις!

Αυτή τη φορά το Ίδρυμα Κόρνις ασχολείται με ένα ημιτελές έργο του ΕΤΑ Χόφμαν. Μια όπερα με θέμα τον Βασιλιά Αρθούρο και τους Ιππότες του Κάμελοτ. Την όπερα αναλαμβάνει να τελειώσει μια υποψήφια διδάκτορας της Μουσικολογίας, η οποία με τη βοήθεια της γνωστής από τα προηγούμενα βιβλία ομάδας του Ιδρύματος, θα προσπαθήσει να γράψει ένα έργο αντάξιο της φήμης του δημιουργού αλλά και παράλληλα ένα μαγικό παραμύθι που θα χαρακτηρίζεται από το πνεύμα μιας περασμένης εποχής γεμάτη ήρωες, πάθη, μάγους και ίντριγκες.
Όπως και στα προηγούμενα βιβλία, έτσι και σε αυτό αρχίζουν πάλι τα μπερδέματα και οι αναποδιές για τους γνωστούς ήρωες του Ιδρύματος όταν πέφτουν πάνω σε κρυμμένα μυστικά, σε γρίφους και κυρίως σε φαντάσματα του παρελθόντος. Κι όλα αυτά υπό το βλέμμα του ΕΤΑ Χόφμαν, ο οποίος περιμένει τη λύτρωση στο βασίλειο του Κάτω Κόσμου...
Ο Ρόμπερτσον κατά την προσφιλή του συνήθεια ξεκινάει το βιβλίο σαν ένα απλό campus novel και σπειροειδώς το μετατρέπει σε ένα πολύμορφο καλλιτεχνικό εγχειρίδιο στο οποίο βρίσκουμε ενδελεχείς αναλύσεις της όπερας, αναφορές στον μύθο του Αρθούρου αλλά και στο έργο του ίδιου του ΕΤΑ Χόφμαν.
Το βιβλίο είναι γεμάτο ήχους, χρώματα και τέχνη. Από την αρχή έως το τέλος κρατάει τον αναγνώστη σε εγρήγορση βομβαρδίζοντας τον με πληροφορίες αλλά και ταξιδεύοντας τον μέσα σε διάφορες εποχές με χαρακτηριστική ευκολία, σαν μια μαγική χρονοκάψουλα...
5/5

ΥΓ: Οι εκδόσεις ΚΡΙΤΙΚΗ έκαναν καλή δουλειά στη μετάφραση, αν και σε σημεία υπάρχουν μεταφραστικές ανακρίβειες.
ΥΓ2: Το συγκεκριμένο βιβλίο είναι το μόνο της τριλογίας που δεν στέκεται μόνο του. Κάποιος αν δεν έχει διαβάσει τα δύο προηγούμενα μάλλον δεν θα απολαύσει το τρίτο μέρος μιας και ήρωες των προηγούμενων βιβλίων κάνουν συχνά πυκνά την εμφάνιση τους.

[Oscar · Rating 3 out of 5]

Con este libro se cierra la Trilogía Cornish, todo un prodigio de erudición y de saber hacer de Robertson Davies. En 'La lira de Orfeo', volvemos a encontrarnos con los personajes que conocimos tan bien en 'Ángeles rebeldes' y que apareción tan brevemente en 'Lo que arraiga en el hueso': Darcourt, Maria, Arthur y Hollier. Éstos constituyen la llamada Fundación Francis Cornish, con la que apadrinan económicamente los proyectos artísticos que más cercanos están con la idea de cultura que tenía Francis Cornish.

En este caso deciden llevar a cabo la representación de una ópera basada en un proyecto inacabado de E.T.A. Hoffmann, con las leyendas artúricas como tema principal. Para ello se decantan para la composición de la música por una estudiante, Hulda Schnakenburg, brillante pero con una forma de ser algo borde y mezquina. De esta manera, Schna también puede conseguir el doctorado en Música. Para el libreto se escoge a Darcourt, experto en literatura. Por supuesto, todo se complicará, y lo que sucede en la leyenda del Rey Arturo, con Ginebra, Lanzarote, Merlín, Morgana y demás, se verá reflejado también en la vida de los protagonistas.

Es una novela inteligente y con un humor muy inglés, por decirlo de alguna manera. Los diálogos son maravillosos, sobre todo las reuniones que tiene la Fundación, o las conversaciones durante comidas y cenas. La parte de cómo se construye una ópera casi desde cero es apasionante. Se nota que Davies conocía el tema de las representaciones musicales y teatrales.

Aunque sigo prefiriendo el primer libro de la trilogía, 'La lira de Orfeo' no desmerece nada. Quizás lo he encontrado un poco largo, pero nada más. Hay que leer a Robertson Davies.

[Krista · Rating 4 out of 5]

A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory -- and very few eyes can see the Mystery of his life -- a lie like the scriptures, figurative.
-- John Keats

As the third book in Robertson Davies' The Cornish Trilogy, The Lyre of Orpheus does a good job of wrapping up the whole narrative, but it's probably the only volume in the trilogy that would be a disappointing read on its own: without the in-depth introduction to the academic characters from The Rebel Angels and the full biography of Francis Cornish in What's Bred In the Bone, a reader might think that this book is just about completing and mounting a lost opera, without realising how it ties everything up. (And I mention this because I've heard many people say that these three books can be read in any order -- since they don't have the linear storyline of a The Lord of the Rings -- but why not read them in the order written?)

The Cornish Foundation -- chaired by Arthur Cornish and rounded out by his wife, Maria, and the familiar cast of professors -- is looking for a large, ambitious project to fund and decides on endowing a PhD candidate: the rude and dirty, but absolutely brilliant, Hulda Schnakenburg, who intends to finish an opera by E. T. A. Hoffman (an actual composer and author of Tales of Hoffman) in order to earn her Doctorate of Music. The source material "Schnak" has found is thin at best and there is much interesting information revealed about how an opera is scored, the libretto written, the production cast and directed and mounted. The opera itself is Arthur of Britain, or The Magnanimous Cuckold, and as the love triangle between King Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot is fleshed out for the stage, it also plays out in real life.

In a secondary storyline, Simon Darcourt is still working on his biography of Francis Cornish, and when he happens upon Cornish's triptych, The Marriage at Cana, his subject's life and work finally come into focus. Recognizing the painting as a representation of Cornish's personal mythology, Darcourt then explores what his own myth might be (that of The Fool from the Tarot) and helps others to see how their own lives are simply the playing out of their own mythologies. This is the key to the whole trilogy, and as Davies says in this interview:

I write novels that I hope will be interesting just as stories, but they also have implications and byways which I think would interest people who have more information. That may conceivably lead them to form conclusions about the persistence of myth in what we are pleased to call real life. I get awfully tired of people who talk about real life as though it had no relation to the life of the imagination and the life of legends and myth. They would do better to look again, though the trouble is they don't know enough in order to know where to look.

As in the previous two books, there is a shift in focus (and an opportunity to make third party assessments) with, in this case, intermittent scenes featuring Hoffman watching the progress of his opera from limbo. Trapped for hundreds of years because of his unfinished work, I couldn't help but be put in mind of Robertson Davies himself, who left his own final trilogy unresolved. As for myself, I identified with this statement of Arthur's:

Increasingly, I'm glad I never went to (university). As a reader I've just rambled at large on Parnassus, chewing the grass wherever it seemed rich.

I wouldn't say I'm glad to have not finished university, but the paths my reading has led me down has brought me that much closer to discovering what my own personal mythology might be. If I were grading this book on its own, it might only merit three stars (because I can't truly say I loved it), but for the way it completes the trilogy, I'm bumping it up to four.

[Paul Wilner · Rating 3 out of 5]

A bit of a slog, honestly, though I've liked his other work. Deeply erudite, but this reads more like a 19th century British novel - and not one displaying the emotional depth of, say, George Eliot, to make a perhaps unfair comparison - than something contemporary. He seemed to be having fun throughout, and knows how to tell the story, but more attention to style might have been in order here. Or maybe I was just in the wrong mood.

[Stephen P(who no longer can participate due to illness) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Amidst the airy bustle of arranging an opera, arranging a life, Davies riffs his satirical sardonic style with a cosmopolitan and keen erudition. This is a voice that does not falter even while his characters bluster in their headstrong determination to unwittingly allow themselves to merge into a group and its incipient rules or to extricate themselves into individuation. This is Davies theme plus the myriad of detail and image coalescing among the many striking conflicts within the human play of relationships, ambitions, self delusions, deceits.

The tension of the narrative stalks about a music department at a University who wants to bestow upon an unbathed, ungroomed, scarecrow thin student her PhD. While she is generally heralded as a compositional genius she has no motivation or skills in simple social interaction. The staff wants to see her get the PhD by her writing a score that finishes a Hoffmann opera which was left undone and with barely any notes to be found. This opera grows from its germinal seed expanding to patrons of extreme wealth, musicologists, heralded musicians, directors, actors, actresses, stage hands…all trying to be part of the play while maintaining who they are. The line shrinks thinner as what is happening in the play mirrors what is happening to them or vice versa, in their personal lives.

Davies handles this so smoothly, the seemingly impossible hordes, that I was not fully aware of the extent until after the final page was turned. He was helped by Hoffmann, off in limbo after succumbing to syphillis, observing and commenting.

I took away a point because I had nothing better to do and it seemed it went along with the general vogue and tone of the tale. Also because it tightroped the line too breezily at times between serious fiction and entertainment, as though Davies could not make up his mind and possibly didn’t care to.

In the end I left with a variety of interesting characters and an entertaining treatise on the never ending historic conflict between the swashbuckling battle to indicate oneself versus the desire to step with the herd enjoying the comforts of ones family, friends, and society.

It strikes me that it would be most enjoyable to sit with Mr. Davies in a dark paneled pub with each of us drinking a pint of ale; he sharing his urbane wit and knowledgable mind. Me just listening, (And drinking.)

I would recommend this book because the least that will happen is a thoroughly enjoyable romp and frolic even if the inlaid themes do not arise. If they do you may be in for a full literary experience.

[Josh · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fine end to the trilogy. Though on the whole, this one was a little on the dull side for me. I didn't get so much out of the main thrust of the plot, in which several of our protagonists from The Rebel Angels somehow talk themselves into putting on an opera. But I continued to like the characters, as well as the new batch, and some of the ongoing threads from What's Bred in the Bone.

Thematically, it continues threads about religion vs. science & academia. I was particularly interested in the discussions about 'Kater Murr':

"He was a creation of our E.T.A. Hoffmann. A tom-cat. His philosophy was, 'Can anything be cosier than having a nice, secure place in the world?' It is the religion of millions.... Kater Murr is the enemy of all true art, religion, science--anything of any importance whatever. Kater Murr wants nothing but certainty, and whatever is great grows in the battleground between truth and error."

I'm not totally sure I know what this means. But what I *think* it means is that contentedness inhibits creativity, art, wonder, interest in novelty, and an easy trap to fall into if you are fortunate enough to approach fat & happy.

[Jens · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Lyre of Orpheus is lovely. Very Robertson Davies. The multi-layered story is not the revelation it is in, say the Manticore, but it's enjoyable. The play of poetry and imagining the creation of an opera is unique, for me.

I am tired of books that are so good they keep me up too late. I need to read more boring books.

[Monica San Miguel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tercera parte de la trilogía Cornish (donde todos sus libros pueden leerse de forma independiente) y es una maravilla, en este libro Davies se centra en lo que consiste la creación de una obra de teatro, en concreto nada menos que una versión de Arturo de Britania, además de explicar muy bien el proceso el autor pinta unos personajes tan bien desarrollados ... además de narrar todo ello con una prosa sencilla que no carente de profundidad, no es necesario ser "pedante" para hablar de las cosas mas elevadas del intelecto. Además ese toque sobrenatural que da en cada uno de los libros es realmente bueno. Así que recomiendo absolutamente esta trilogía

[Javier Fernandez · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved the gist of the novel, but unlike the first two legs of the trilogy, The Lyre of Orpheus had digressions that made it drag some. For me, the book could have used some editing, but for the rest of Robertson Davies's readership it's best that my desires were not imposed. I am not worthy to question Robertson Davies. The man is brilliant!

[Mrs. Danvers · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love Robertson Davies and it has been years since I've read one of his books. Pretty sure The Cornish Trilogy is my favorite. Must be time to reread What's Bred in the Bone

[Pere · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tercera y última entrega de la trilogía de Cornish, cuyo valor principal reside en la aparición en escena de la figura de Hoffmann, artista polifacético romántico y un auténtico adelantado a su tiempo por su visión sobre el arte. Robertson Davies, hace de su obra un homenaje a Hoffmann convirtiendo la puesta en escena (financiada por la fundación Cornish) de una ópera que este dejo tan sólo apuntada a su muerte, en el nudo central de la novela.

Son constantes las referencias al Gato Murr, personaje principal y que da título a una obra de Hoffmann en la que un gato utiliza como soporte para su biografía el reverso de las hojas manuscritas que contienen la biografía de su amo, un modesto músico llamado Kreisler. Por azar, el libro llega a editarse y da como resultado, un relato inconexo en que dos artistas (uno el gato y otro el músico) muestran sus vivencias de una forma irreal y fantástica cual si de una única voz se tratase. Mediante este artificio se pone de manifiesto el estrecho camino que separa el mundo de lo real y lo fantástico, entre una obra de arte original y otra que resulta una imitación, una copia o una alegoría. Que es real y que es fantástico. Qué es auténtico y qué es falso. Existe la originalidad absoluta?

El gato Murr representa además cuanto de acomodaticio y burgués tiene el mundo del arte y los artistas, por contraposición a quienes adoptan la vida del Loco, personaje que se ve espoleado a avanzar para evitar ser mordido por un perro y que en ese avance se ve impelido hacia el ideal del arte supremo.

Al igual que Hoffmann usa la ironia y la mordacidad contra la sociedad de su tiempo, Robertson Davies lo hace para dejar en evidencia el ambiente del arte y la cultura oficial hasta el punto de ofrecer de ellos una imagen de seres ridículos y pedantes.

Sin duda que esta obra mantiene el discurso narrativo poderoso de sus dos precedentes. Echamos de menos, sin embargo, algunos de los personajes que tanto nos gustaron en las anteriores. Pobre el papel de Arthur, de Maria, de su “mamusia” gitana y su peculiar hermano Yerko. Sólo Simon Darcourt mantiene su peso y, afortunadamente, acaba convirtiéndose en protagonista. Por otra parte, algunos de los personajes llamados, en teoría, a asumir un papel destacado no llegan a cuajar.

Orfeo es un personaje de la mitología griega. Cuando tocaba su lira, los hombres se reunían para escucharlo y reposar sus almas. Valiéndose de la lira consiguió enamorar a Eurídice y dormir al monstruo que le impedida resucitarla tras su muerte. Como alegoría del arte grandioso, no cabe duda que Robertson Davies acierta con el título de su obra.

[Carl R. · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Rebel Angels opens Robertson Davies Cornish Trilogy and opened my way into his work. Lyre of Orpheus ably continues the saga of the denizens of “Spook” (St. John and the Holy Ghost University) beyond the first fireworks passion and murder that provided the juice for Rebel Angels.
Lyre centers around the production of an original opera. Well, not quite original, since it is drawn from notes left by E.T.A. Hoffman (the Tales of Hoffman guy). The opera is to be completed by a doctoral candidate of great musical ability and repulsive personality. The funds for the project come from the Cornish Foundation, a pot of money left for just such projects by an uncle of Arthur Cornish, businessman, dilettante, and the one member of the “real” world among the academicians, priests, gypsies, and creative types who people the rest of the book.
The opera works well as a plot engine and enables Davies to bring in a wonderful cast to surround his main core. His wit and cynicism roars along superbly throughout, and for a theater guy like me, all the backstage intrigues are fascinating and entertaining. I do think Davies falls into the trap that so many university-set works do. He too often becomes so wrapped up in intellectual repartee that it acts like an anchor on the action. Rebel Angels avoids the problem by virtue of a heavy dose of the gypsy crew that dominates so much of the work. There is no such balance in Lyre, and it hurts. I also think Davies gets carried away with inventing characters. The introduction of a pair named Al and Sweetness, for example, is a throwaway couple who add nothing to the action. One of those nice ideas that should have been left on the cutting room floor. Finally, the subplot comes to dominate the denouement and brings the book to the end with a bit of a thud. I can point to details, but it all adds up to a matter of chemistry, something like main character Simon Darcourt accuses the lovely Maria of losing after her marriage--that Rabelaisan spirit is not in sufficient abundance.
So, it’s not Rebel Angels, but it’s still damned good, and it won’t keep me from going after the third in this little tryptych--What’s Bred in the Bone.

[verbava · Rating 5 out of 5]

було неймовірно шкода її дочитувати.
того самого вечора, коли я замовила собі паперовий екземпляр і отримала обіцянку, що через тижні три його привезуть (і так, я намагалася її знайти у книгарнях, щоб уже й одразу, бо мені стало зовсім нестерпно знати, що свіжий робертсон девіс уже місяць як опублікований, а я його все ще не прочитала; але хороші свіжі книжки - то не про київські книгарні в основному), "ліра орфея" з'явилася в електронці. тому сьогодні зранку, незважаючи на те, що її привезли значно швидше, ніж за три тижні, мені лишалося прочитати всього сторінок сорок. але то були сорок сторінок щастя, як і попередні багато сторінок електронної версії.
історія розказана з різних точок зору, як у депфордській трилогії. але сама природа цієї різниці інша, побудована на білих плямах, які існують для персонажів, але не для читача, бо читач уже знає історію френсіса корніша, а герої - ні. даркур, який намагається її реконструювати, іноді зворушливо помиляється, і девіс прекрасний тим, що не виправляє його. такий собі об'єктивний корелят* до іншої сюжетної лінії, в якій шнак реконструює оперу гофмана про короля артура (тут читач теж має суфлера - гофман час від часу випірнає з чистилища і розповідає історію зі свого боку; втім, хто сказав, що гофманові можна довіряти).
о, так, про інтертексти. три штуки експлікованих: артуріана, "філософія кота мура" (я не прочитала її, коли то було у програмі, але "ліра орфея" переконливіша, ніж курс німецького романтизму) і "полювання на снарка". з цього всього виходить дивовижно смачна суміш. чарівність університетських романів, зокрема, в тому, що персонажі свідомі інтертекстів, у яких живуть. у девіса з цієї точки зору вийшов дуже хороший університетський роман.
він розумний і безсовісно талановитий. після кожного тексту хочеться ще. на щастя, у мене десь була салтертонська трилогія.

*то не я, то девіс. точніше, один персонаж девіса. і це теж неймовірно розкішно, як він тонесенькими, ледь помітними штрихами (чи й не помітними - не здивуюся, якщо я деякі пропустила в силу свого невігластва й браку коментарів тетяни боровикової, фантастичної девісової перекладачки) іронізує з науковців.

[Jovana · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really wanted to give this book 5 stars, only for the fact that I have given the other 4 Robertson Davies books I've read 5 stars, too. But in the end, I just couldn't do it.

The Lyre of Orpheus holds a lot of the same charm that made all of the author's other books favourites of mine. To say his novels are witty is an understatement. They are insightful, funny, touching, and even uncomfortable for how real they are to me and how much I relate to some of the characters and situations. This novel had all of those traits, if a little bit less than the others. I would have still given it 4.5 stars, though, if that slight lack had been my only disappointment.

This book's plot was all over the place. So many threads were picked up and then either never tied up or dropped entirely. The novel started out with a premise I could get behind and it introduced some intrigues I was curious to see resolved. But it kept dropping these intrigues and never bringing them up again, or alternatively, the solutions that were offered weren't satisfying. It got to a point that I felt that characters I had loved from previous books were almost disrespected with how little time they were afforded on the page.

Somehow, in spite of my major gripe with the plot/structure of this novel, I still really enjoyed myself. If you don't need a lot of plot to appreciate a poignant story with characters you like from the previous books, I still think you can enjoy this, just not as much as the previous books.

[Fern Adams · Rating 5 out of 5]

Life is an opera or a painting when it’s put altogether but underneath that it’s messy, complicated and not straightforward. Davies illustrates this within the final of The Cornish Trilogies and points out that everything in life is ultimately allegorical. Things which contrast are often similar, aspects of life are not really always what they seem and life for all we try to explain it away and make sense of it remains fairly mystical. Of course a person never sees their life for what it is and that is what literature like this, operas or paintings are for- to see the bigger picture.

[Roger Burk · Rating 4 out of 5]

For her dissertation, a music scholar uses scattered notes from Hoffman to complete an opera in his style, titled Arthur of Britain. On this framework Davies weaves his magic. The breadth and detail of his imagination is unbelievable, not in the sense of being fantasy, but in the sense of being totally believable. Every character is fully realized, and some of them are a bit alarming at first. Every detail rings true.

[Wendy Capron · Rating 2 out of 5]

C flat major, really??

[J.D. Frailey · Rating 5 out of 5]

The third book in the Cornish trilogy by Robertson Davies, Canadian writer who puts words together as well as anyone. I read the book probably 20 years ago, and enjoyed it just as much this time. Davies was an actor and professor and editor of an academic literary journal before he began writing, and brought many of those skills to this book.
The title refers to the Guardian of the underworld, the plot revolves around creating and staging an opera, a massive undertaking, by completing an unfinished score and with only a few scraps of the uncompleted libretto by ETA Hoffmann, who I discovered was an actual person (I just got a book Hoffman wrote which was referred to several times by the characters in this book. )
The opera is titled Arthur of Britain, or The Magnanimous Cuckold. Life imitates art as the brilliant eccentric characters in this book display their humanity, both wise and goofy, in bringing the opera to fruition.
I was familiar with most of the characters from the previous books in the trilogy, most of them are academics and intellectuals in the classics, so there are all kinds of quotes thrown in by everyone from Shakespeare to Heraclitus to Dante to Greek mythology, and of course Arthurian background, legends, and stories.
A lot of big words and Latin thrown in so I did quite a lot of looking things up, which was fine. To me this book, plus Davies’s other works, are like a fine wine or a really great meal; you’re not in a hurry, you savor each sip and bite. It’s the journey, not just a plot resolution.
I had forgotten how much I enjoyed Davies and will revisit his other works. Google a picture of him, if he’s not straight out of the old testament I will kiss your biblical term for donkey 😉

[Dawn · Rating 2 out of 5]

I love Robertson Davies and this book was a massive disappointment for me. I have been trying to read this off and on since 2018 and never really felt interested. I decided to just power through this time and it did not pay off. For once the characters did not engage me and the story did not interest me, it was just an annoying bunch of people working on an annoying project.
I will revisit the whole trilogy someday and see if reading them together will change my mind.

[Rowland]

Robertson Davies: you can find plenty of pictures of his Biblical prophet-like visage, posed by his library fire amidst a torrent of book titles on the shelves. But remember that he is one of the forever young and this novel (his last?) is packed with delicious irony, tons of funny dialogue and a great story. I strongly recommend it.

[Will · Rating 3 out of 5]

"'Do you do evil in love?' said Mamusia.

'Good and evil are not my thing. I leave that to the professionals, like Simon here. I do what I do. I do not ask the world to judge it, or make it legal or give it a special place in the world or any of that. Listen, Madame; when I was quite a young girl I met the great Jean Cocteau and he said to me: "Whatever the public blames you for, cultivate it, because it is yourself." And that is what I have done. I am Gunilla Dahl-Soot, and that is all I can manage. It is enough.'

'Only very great people can say that,' said Yerko. 'It is what I always say myself.'

'Don’t appeal to me as a moralist,' said Darcourt. 'I gave up moralizing years ago. It never worked twice in the same way.' The champagne was getting to him, and also the cigar smoke. Good cigars are not accessible to shop-lifters, even those of Mamusia’s talent. The cigars Yerko circulated were more than merely odious: they caught at the throat, like a bonfire of noxious weeds. Darcourt got rid of his as soon as he decently could, but the others were puffing happily.

'Madame,' he said, for his biography was much on his mind. 'You had some intuitions when you laid out the cards. "You have awakened the Little Man," you said, "and you must be ready for what follows." l think I know now who the Little Man is.'

'And you are going to tell us?' said Mamusia.

'Not now. If I am right, the whole world will know in plenty of time.'

'Good! Good, Father Simon. You bring me a mystery and that is a wonderful thing. People come to me for mysteries, but I need a few for myself. I am glad you remember the Little Man.'

'Mysteries,' said the Doctor, who had grown owlish and philosophical. 'They are the blood of life. It is all one huge mystery. The champagne is all gone, I see. Where is the cognac? Simon, we brought cognac, didn’t we? No, no, we don’t need new glasses, Yerko. These tumblers will do very well.' The Doctor poured hearty slops of cognac into all the glasses. 'Here’s to the mystery of life, eh? You’ll drink with me?'

'To mystery,' said Mamusia. 'Everybody wants everything explained, and that is nonsense. The people that come to me with their mysteries! Mostly about love. You remember that stupid song—

Ah, sweet mystery of life
At last I’ve found you!

They think the mystery must be love, and they think love is snuggling up to something warm, and that’s the end of everything. Bullshit! I say it again. Bullshit! Mystery is everywhere, and if it is explained, where’s your mystery then? Better not to know the answer.'

'The Kingdom of the Father is spread upon the earth and men do not see it,' said Darcourt. 'That’s what mystery is.'

'Mystery is the sugar in the cup,' said the Doctor. She picked up the container of white crystals the delicatessen had included in the picnic basket and poured a large dollop into her cognac.

'I don’t think I’d do that, Gunilla,' said Darcourt.

'Nobody wants you to do it, Simon. I am doing it, and that’s enough. That is the curse of life—when people want everybody to do the same wise, stupid thing. Listen: Do you want to know what life is? I’ll tell you. Life is a drama.'

'Shakespeare was ahead of you, Gunilla,' said Darcourt. '"All the world’s a stage,"' he declaimed.

'Shakespeare had the mind of a grocer,' said Gunilla. 'A poet, yes, but the soul of a grocer. He wanted to please people.'

'That was his trade,' said Darcourt. 'And it’s yours, too. Don’t you want this opera to please people?'

'Yes, I do. But that is not philosophy. Hoffmann was no philosopher. Now be quiet, everybody, and listen, because this is very important. Life is a drama. I know. I am a student of the divine Goethe, not that grocer Shakespeare. Life is a drama. But it is a drama we have never understood and most of us are very poor actors. That is why our lives seem to lack meaning and we look for meaning in toys—money, love, fame. Our lives seem to lack meaning but'—the Doctor raised a finger to emphasize her great revelation—'they don’t, you know.' She seemed to be having some difficulty in sitting upright, and her natural pallor had become ashen.

'You’re off the track, Nilla,' said Darcourt. 'I think we all have a personal myth. Maybe not much of a myth, but anyhow a myth that has its shape and its pattern somewhere outside our daily world.'

'This is all too deep for me,' said Yerko. 'I am glad I am a Gypsy and do not have to have a philosophy and an explanation for everything. Madame, are you not well?'

Too plainly the Doctor was not well. Yerko, an old hand at this kind of illness, lifted her to her feet and gently, but quickly, took her to the door—the door to the outside parking lot. There were terrible sounds of whooping, retching, gagging, and pitiful cries in a language which must have been Swedish. When at last he brought a greatly diminished Gunilla back to the feast, he thought it best to prop her, in a seated position, against the wall. At once she sank sideways to the floor.

'That sugar was really salt,' said Darcourt. 'I knew it, but she wouldn’t listen. Her part in the great drama now seems to call for a long silence.'

'When she comes back to life I shall give her a shot of my personal plum brandy,' said Yerko. 'Will you have one now, Priest Simon?'"

[Christian Schwoerke · Rating 4 out of 5]

In this third of the Cornish trilogy novels, Davies shifts the tone again from what had been comic and antic in The Rebel Angels and sober, even somber in What's Bred in the Bone, offering a deft incorporation of both aspects. Reprising and combining the comic and sober from the preceding novels turns the Lyre of Orpheus into an erudite melodrama. The manic comings and goings of characters in The Rebel Angels and the high seriousness of Francis Cornish's life's quest in What's Bred in the Bone are combined in the character of Simon Darcourt, priest, classics professor, and board member of the Cornish Foundation.

Simon Darcourt is this trilogy's fifth business, the dramatic character who serves to keep all other characters and events in motion and in balance. The Cornish Foundation is funding the completion of an opera whose music ETA Hoffmann had only begun, and while Darcourt is thoroughly engaged in that activity, he is also trying to complete his biography of Franic Cornish, whose art and wealth made the Foundation possible. In the business about the opera, a broad canvas of characters is again in full play, with much activity around creating music for which there was never a libretto, and in creating a story and libretto that will both match and fulfill the music; in the business of the biography, Darcourt must discover what occured in Cornish's years in Germany when he was both spy and art restorer.

Multiple themes run throughout each of the two subplots; with the opera, there's the idea that hidden aspects of one's life are played out against a mythic template, and there's the romantic notion of the artist/personality which must be wary of complacency; and in the pursuit of biography, there is again the idea that one's life and personality is composed of a plethora of influences that combine to form a gestalt, ignited and fulfilled by a questing spirit. The myth of the opera is Arthurian, and the characters of Maria and Arthur Cornish play this out in concert with Lancelot avatar and opera producer Geraint Powell. Maria's tryst with Powell is a mistake that the three of them come to terms with it, emulating and surpassing the Arthurian model. The theme of rebel angels (mentors who defy convention) is reprised in the figure of a Swedish musicologist who teaches the provincial, naive composer how to invest her rebellious instincts.

This same theme of investing artististic aspirations in old forms carries over in both subplots, with Darcourt discovering that Cornish had created what had for 50 years been thought to be a high reformation masterpiece. Instead, he discovers, it is a painting that uses the iconology of the period to depict within the framework of the Marriage of Cana a representation of the multifarious aspects of Cornish's own life. In researching this painting, Darcourt is able to unearth information about Cornish's years in Germany and finish his biography, at the same time negotiating the purchase of this painting for the Cornish Foundation. As well being corollary to the concept of "new wine in old bottles", the painting's motto, "you have saved the best for last", comes to serve many purposes in this novel.

The show must go on: there is some melodrama around the thaumaturgy of the opera, but it all largely becomes subsumed by everyone's commitment to the production itself. Subplots of opera and biography are neatly, deftly combined in Darcourt's fifth business. This novel is itself a deft bit of business, a continual reprisal of themes and variations from the previous two Cornish novels. There's the fast-paced first movement, the slower, darker second movement, and this, the final recapulative movement, which lacks the intensities of the first two novels but artfully combines and re-affirms. There is, however, no grand crescendo or climax, and there is a sense as the novel comes to its conclusion that everything is falling into place—being guided by some overriding spirit—that the characters and situations resolve and are fulfilled. Sturm and drang—continual conflict and unrest—are at odds with Davies' conception of fulfillment, and this is given expression in the motif of Hoffmann's spirit presiding over and commenting on the opera's progress. When the opera is complete and has had its successful debut, Hoffmann's subtle romantic spirit bids farewell, "my time in Limbo is completed."

[Micha · Rating 4 out of 5]

I reached this by way of Hoffmann, of course, he being a minor but constant obsession of mine, with additional interest-weight added by way of Orpheus and Davies. I meant to read it back in my first or second year of undergrad and even took it out of the library. In fact I think I got pretty far into it because I remembered the "pastiche/pistache" conversation before exams hit or school ended and I had to return the book to the library. Despite that, I talked about this book a lot. Really, it was very disproportional for a book that I hadn't read and that no one else was talking about, meaning I deliberately brought it up in the conversation. Given that I read The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr earlier this year and only heightened my Hoffmania it really seemed high time to take it out again. Another university library, but the exact same edition, conveniently.

I've got to note, before I go on though, that I once had a professor of Arthurian literature who was also a Canadian Lit prof (which, I mean, perfect marriage for this book, right?). He's since been awarded both the Order of Ontario and the Order of Canada. And someone in my class, I don't think it was me, asked him during a break about Roberston Davies, and I just clearly remember him saying that he didn't find Davies that interesting. He asked, why would he care to read about upper-middle class white people?

That got me, and that haunted me, and especially when I started reading this book again I couldn't stop thinking of his remark. It made me dislike everybody to start with, and given that I haven't read The Rebel Angels or What's Bred in the Bone (Davies trilogies aren't hard-sequential trilogies) I didn't have much in the way of back-story that might've potentially made me fonder. For the first half I was thinking mostly about how I wasn't in love with the voice of Hoffmann's ghost the way I wanted to be (not nearly frenetic enough for the Hoff, but I suppose limbo will do that) and how these characters were, in actuality, not that interesting. And yes, in quite a lot of way they're really not. But then by the second half of the book I was craving more, and luxuriating in the book, really sinking in and looking forward to whatever time I could find to keep reading, and there's a part of me that's really sad that I won't have more of it to look forward to reading before bed tonight. (I bought a copy of The Rebel Angels at a bookstore just the other day though I've got a few library books to read before I can get to it, and part of me thinks I should savour.) I don't know how that happened. I don't know what Davies did. All I know is that suddenly even though Al Crane's appearance is in the style of this very-Canadian American caricature, it hollowed me out inside when he talked about Mabel, "a twenty-two year old woman," wanting her mother. Christ, Davies, hold nothing back.