The Lyre of Orpheus (Cornish Trilogy)

by Robertson Davies

Book Overview

Davies triumphantly concludes the trilogy begun with The Rebel Angels. The Cornish Foundation is thriving under the tutelage of Arthur Cornish, art expert, collector, connoisseur, and notable... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0140114335
• Release Date: January 1990
• Publisher: Penguin Books
• Length: 480 Pages
• Weight: 0.65 lbs.
• Dimensions: 7.8" x 1.2" x 5.1"

Customer Reviews

A fine tune on the "Lyre".

Robertson Davies' last major novel trilogy, "Cornish", concludes with this book, which is in many respects my favourite of the set. "The Rebel Angels" introduced us to the characters who inhabit the world of the College of St John and the Holy Ghost (a thinly-disguised version of Trinity College at Toronto); "What's Bred in the Bone" went back in time to give us the life story of Frank Cornish, the man whose death drove the plot of the first novel. Now in "Lyre" the strands of both novels come together, and Davies, having previously indulged his love of Rabelais, theology, and Medieval art, now takes us into the machinations of opera. Plot details discussed herein. Much as "The World of Wonders" concluded "The Deptford Trilogy" by bringing back the first book's narrator, Dunstan Ramsay, so this third book in the trilogy sees the return of Simon Darcourt as focal character, though only partially, as Davies here indulges more in omniscient third-person narration than in the past. This includes segments narrated by the deceased poet and musician E. T. A Hoffmann from Limbo, the place for deceased artists who never achieved their potential (Hoffmann's parts introduce a surreal element akin to the commentating angels from "What's Bred in the Bone"). But rescue may be at hand for Hoffmann, as the messy graduate student Hulda Schnakenburg proposes to finish his last opera, "Arthur of Britain", using notes left behind. The attempt to stage this opera drives the plot and, as in other Davies novels, the mythic meta-echoes of Arthurian story reflect and influence the lives of the characters. Without having read Davies, many might assume that his novels would stuffy, 19th century affairs, but this work, especially, defies that idea. Davies depicts some fairly frank sexuality, largely of a homosexual nature here, with the arrival of the splendidly-named Dr. Gunnila Dahl-Soot, a Nordic music instructor called in to assist. The modern day Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot triangle is rather odd, though; you would think Arthur and Maria would be a bit more put off by Geraint and his motivation. But, whatever, it's all archetypal. Davies was always fascinated with opera, and yearned to write one himself, something eventually realized, though he did not live to see it performed. Here he gives us an intriguing depiction of the art as it exists today and existed in the early 19th century in Britain and Germany, before Wagner. Recommended.

An intellectual romp

This is the third book in a trilogy. I hadn't read the first two, which in one way was an advantage: there is a certain amount of background material provided which would no doubt be dull for someone already familiar with it. At the same time, while I found many of the secondary characters nicely developed and interesting, I was left cold by two of the main characters, Arthur and Maria, and perhaps they would have meant more to me had I read the whole trilogy. The gypsy angle seemed forced and would better have been edited out. In any event, the major reason for reading this novel is the sparkling conversation, whether it be about the personal, or about painting and especially opera; aesthetics, criticism, music, theater, myth, current and historical perspectives and stagecraft are all discussed in a fun manner, and all are germane to the plot. The novel is truly an intellectual romp.

Characters are the Treasure Here

The Lyre of Orpheus is the concluding novel in Robertson Davies's Cornish Trilogy, and it stands as a strong work within the context of that collection. Like The Rebel Angels (the first book), The Lyre of Orpheus is very much dependent upon the two other books and does not do well as a stand-alone. In many ways, The Lyre of Orpheus was surprising to this reader. Its plot revolves around an Arthurian quest (loosely) to put on a production of a long-dead composer whose opera had fallen short of completion at the time of his death in the early 19th century. The task was to write an opera that was sufficiently of his spirit, so as to be called his, and then produce it according to the conventions of the theatre of the day. Honestly, I would be hard-pressed to think of a plot that would be less likely to rouse my interest, personally (my apologies to all those truly devoted to early 19th century opera!). Having invested myself in the first two books of the trilogy, however, I resigned myself to the task of reading this last installment (lest I have to chastise myself in future years for having gone so far and then turned back). The `round table' of this tale was, for me, the most tedious of experiences (except when a drunken, rude Scandinavian music scholar provided me with some humour to console my page-turning drudgery). Indeed, the book often wanders with Davies's own apparent unclear quest to find his way from one cover to the next. BUT - all of that said, I found myself falling in love with this book, the more I read of it.Robertson Davies has (though he is gone, he is not really) a delightful gift of making us find joy in the chatter and company of our own lives. This book, perhaps more than many of his creation, takes us through a luxurious indulgence in the meanderings of days strung together whose meaning can only be guessed, or retroactively assigned. The `round table,' though often a great annoyance to this reader, began to feel as beloved (and despised) as the Thanksgiving table filled with family and friends. The treasure of this book is to be found in the characters, not in the plot (which is a mere backdrop - and excuse for the story - just as the libretto is an excuse for the opera's music (according to Davies)). I give high marks to this book. I expected not to like it; but I did. Very much so, in fact. I commend it to your reading.

A Mixture of Frailties Remixed

Treats the same subject as the much earlier A Mixture of Frailties, from a different approach (and in a more modern manner). Philosophical, farcical, thoughtful, touching, and even -- gasp - educational. The plot drives ahead almost unnoticed, as usual, until you realize, quite by accident, that you really need to find out how this is all going to come out.

Wonderful, witty story of artistic academics

The final part of the Cornish Trilogy. This is the story of an opera. Boring? Never. An unfinished opera by E.T.A. Hoffman is to be completed by an unlovable music student as a part of a bequest from a charitable foundation. From the beginning Davies' coruscating prose enchants and, as the twin plots begin to unfold, the richly eccentric characters begin to draw the reader in. Davies has a way of tying the most obscure facts together and making his huge knowledge accessible through humour and his immensely gifted, exhilarating, writing. If you have never read Robertson Davies you should start now. Start with The Lyre of Orpheus if you like, it is a superb book in it's own right, but it is a part of the outstanding "Cornish Trilogy" so you may prefer to begin with The Rebel Angels, the first in the trilogy. Personally, though, I would buy the trilogy right now.