This trilogy, and all of Robertson Davies' books, are among the funniest pieces of literature I've read. ( )

Literary novels are supposed to have depth, characterisation and style. What they often lack is story and this book lacks that. It is a contrived piece of nonsense. Scattered with intellectual biblical, classical and literary references, that are I presume inserted so we think the author is wise in academic ways, it often finds itself drifting into self-indulgent drivel territory. Its one defence is several good characters, but its obsession with scatology and rectums is both obscure and off-putting. It was sold to me as a comedy and needless to say I found no humour in it. I read this novel as part of a book group and completed it on principle, but will not be returning to Mr Davies work. ( )

I’m not really sure how I feel about Rebel Angels, to be honest. This novel is a literary contemporary that focuses on two main characters within a Canadian university — a professor and a student. It explores the meaning of academia, what it means and what it contributes; the value of success, what success looks like, and how the definition of success changes based on what group you’re involved with; and, what relationships are meant for, what they mean, and how we’re supposed to go about them.

Basically, it wanders through a whole lot of complex ideas and tries to make sense of them. They’re interesting in and of themselves, but the book does feel like it meanders through the story because of the philosophical ideas that it takes on. I didn’t hate it, but I also didn’t love it. I found quite a few of the topics incredibly interesting — the student main character (Maria), for instance, is a gypsy who is trying to cast off her heritage and make a name for herself in academia, and having that culture talked about through her point of view is fascinating (I want to learn more!). The other main character I found somewhat boring, but he provides the foil to Maria’s young, brown, female character to give the more common perspective of the older white man.

If you’re into academic, literary writings, then this is for you. It provides a lot of food for thought and tons of stuff for analysis and contemplation. This is the opposite of a light, fun summer read — this is an undertaking (and it has sequels!). It has its dramatic points but it feels like it’s mostly written for the ideas and philosophies it explores.

Also posted on Purple People Readers. ( )

I read [b:The Lyre of Orpheus|76897|The Lyre of Orpheus (Cornish Trilogy, #3)|Robertson Davies|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1290199305s/76897.jpg|1178556] first, but as I got closer to finishing bought this book from a local bookshop, a first edition no less, important to me chiefly because there's a wonderful picture of Trinity College at night on the front cover, and a wonderfully Mephistophelian picture of Davies on the back (it's the eyebrows). Of course this is the first book in the Cornish trilogy and I started with the last one, and the characters all make a little more sense to me now. I'd have had a better understanding of Hollier especially, and knowing what Arthur would be to Maria by the end made me look at him quite a bit more closely than the new reader would.

There were things that I liked a lot and things I wasn't struck by. McVarish's ceremonies didn't interest me, and Parlabane is difficult to believe in. Obviously he's meant to have a stylised speech pattern, and I don't think Davies intends for us to find the characters' monologues realistic--he favours artistic interpretation over verisimilitude (and verisimilitude in speech can be deeply annoying, with all the 'ums' and 'uhs' and boring bridge-words of real world conversations). But I liked the setting and his representation of academics plodding along with their research fascinations, acknowledging how little it means to the world, and yet how much it means at the same time. I don't know if I'd choose this book to represent Davies best to others, and I'm not in a rush to read [b:What's Bred in the Bone|265767|What's Bred in the Bone (Cornish Trilogy, #2)|Robertson Davies|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1328019283s/265767.jpg|2994820] yet, though I know I will. (I have yet to finish a Davies trilogy. I've read 2 out of 3 of the Deptford ones as well.) ( )

The word "erudite" appears in nearly every positive review of this novel, and what that means to me is this: if you're not familiar with Rabelais and Paracelsus you're not going to get the most out of reading it. It is true "literary fiction", and not the drivel that passes for that so often these days. But I couldn't say I enjoyed reading Davies this time. Aside from missing so many of his references, a single line from one reviewer kind of sums up my reaction to his characters: "For some reason, I felt a little dirty after I finished this one." I have a feeling that some of the distasteful bits are the parts where other readers have found humor, but since no one gave examples of what they considered funny, I can't be sure of that. I've never appreciated scatalogical humor, although I realize its appeal is wide and ancient in human culture generally, and in literature specifically. I feel a little like that kid watching the Emperor's parade...I see that the Emperor has clothes, but I just don't like them very much.
Review written in 2013 ( )