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The Cornish Trilogy #2
What's Bred in the Bone
Francis Cornish was always good at keeping secrets. From the well-hidden family secret of his childhood to his mysterious encounters with a small-town embalmer, an expert art restorer, a Bavarian countess, and various masters of espionage, the events in Francis’s life were not always what they seemed.
In this wonderfully ingenious portrait of an art expert and collector of international renown, Robertson Davies has created a spellbinding tale of artistic triumph and heroic deceit. In this second book of the Cornish Trilogy, Davies spins a tale told in stylish, elegant prose, endowed with lavish portions of his wit and wisdom.
"A deliciously readable story...An altogether remarkable creation, his most accomplished novel to date." -- The New York Times
In this wonderfully ingenious portrait of an art expert and collector of international renown, Robertson Davies has created a spellbinding tale of artistic triumph and heroic deceit. In this second book of the Cornish Trilogy, Davies spins a tale told in stylish, elegant prose, endowed with lavish portions of his wit and wisdom.
"A deliciously readable story...An altogether remarkable creation, his most accomplished novel to date." -- The New York Times
448 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1985
About the author
Robertson Davies
164 books871 followersWilliam 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...
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...
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June 24, 2013
This is Robertson Davies’ best book. No, really it is. And he’s written some pretty awesome ones, let me tell you. Certainly, at the very least, I can say that this one is my favourite. It has everything I want and expect from a book by Davies: a concentration on artistic and intellectual matters, exploration into the ways in which heredity and upbringing shape the soul of an individual, characters who are both ‘realistic’ and odd, witty insights into human nature and foibles at both the individual and communal level, and a preoccupation with myth as it surfaces in our everyday lives through both obvious and not so obvious avenues; in short a heady rumination on what it means to be a sensate individual living in a difficult world coming to terms with oneself all wrapped up in a wonderful story built on well-wrought prose.
As the story opens we encounter our old friends Simon Darcourt, Maria Theotoky, and Arthur Cornish some years after we first met them in The Rebel Angels. They are haggling over some problems that Darcourt is having with the inaugural work commissioned by the Cornish Foundation, meant to launch this benevolent body founded by Arthur and Maria into the world of artistic patronage. It is in fact a biography of Francis Cornish, the somewhat mysterious art collector and millionaire whose death played an important, though ancillary, role in the first volume of the Cornish trilogy. It appears as though Darcourt’s problems are two-fold: one is that there are simply too few facts for him to compose anything like the comprehensive scholarly work of biography he desires, the other is that those nuggets that he is able to intuit from the sparse facts of Cornish’s life lead him to believe that some unexpectedly provocative revelations may lie behind what on the surface had seemed a sedentary, even boring, life. Arthur wants none of it. His foundation is surely not to be launched into the world with a work whose main thesis may be that his own uncle was something of a charlatan, or at the very least a man of disingenuous aspect. Darcourt simply bemoans the fact the he is likely never to know the truth of the “rum things” that seem to lie in the background of the life and times of Francis Cornish.
Luckily for the reader Davies has Zadkiel, the minor angel of biography, and Maimas, the personal daimon of Francis Cornish himself, appear on the scene to enlighten us with the true tale of his life. We are at first treated to a view of Francis’ immediate forbears, setting the scene as Maimas would have it, for the places and people that would shape him for better or worse upon his arrival in the world. Thus we meet the premier inhabits of the tiny Canadian hamlet of Blairlogie (the “jumping off point” as some might uncharitably call it): the Senator (Francis’ grandfather James McRory), a man of humble beginnings who rises to prominence in the economic and political world of turn of the century Canada due to shrewd decisions and the ability and desire to take risks, and his comfort-loving wife, Francis’ grand-mère. There is also the sweetly draconian and pious Catholic Aunt Mary-Ben, a spinster who takes over the management of the Senator’s household ostensibly to allow his wife the freedom required to fully live the life required of a society woman, and of course Francis’ parents: the Senator’s favourite daughter Mary-Jim and her very odd husband Francis “the Wooden Soldier” Cornish…the tale of their meeting and circumstances surrounding their marriage plays an important role in the first part of the narrative and ultimately sets the scene for the boy, and man, Francis is to become. Added to these ‘main players’ are the numerous background figures and servants of the prominent household, many of whom will play a much larger role in the life and development of Francis than they, or any of their ‘betters’, might have thought likely. With this the scene is set for Davies’ preoccupation with the twin pillars upon which our lives are built: nature and nurture.
Francis’ life in Blairlogie is lonely and often hard. Being the sensitive and often neglected son of the most prominent family in a small rough-and-tumble backwoods town is not exactly an enviable position for a little boy, especially when you get moved to a school on the other side of the tracks. Francis’ parents and grandparents are often absent, even when they are physically near him, and so his fostering is taken over primarily by his well-meaning, though strange and often misguided Aunt Mary-Ben, as well as the servants Victoria Cameron (a staunch and somewhat harsh, though caring, Presbyterian) and the kind, but unconventional groom Zadok Hoyle. All of these people strongly shape Francis’ young mind, usually in contrary ways, so that he is pulled in several different directions by the people who should be providing him with a stable life. As far as Maimas is concerned this is all to the good, for he cannot forge a great man with the small stuff of ‘normalcy’. Also, Francis is a resourceful boy (who has luckily been ‘gifted’ with his own inspirational daimon) and is thus able to take the varied and ambiguous gifts of these people and form them into something approximating a complete, though certainly fragmented, personality. From these strange roots Francis grows an intriguing crown: a profound love of and ability in art, a deep desire to find the eternal feminine that can provide him with the comfort and love that has always been so elusive to him, and a sense of charity and compassion tempered by a love of money and somewhat cynical eye. All in all it is a foundation that Francis himself describes as “A Catholic soul in Protestant chains”. There is one other shadow-figure of supreme importance to Francis’ life and development, but I will leave the discovery of his role and identity to you from the story itself.
From the small beginnings of rural Ontario Francis moves to the ‘big city’ of Toronto where he attends both Colborne College and ‘Spook’ (academic proving grounds familiar to those of us who have read more widely in Davies) before moving on to Oxford and the wider world of pre-WWII Europe. Here Francis will meet a variety of new people with whose lives and interests he will become entangled, both professionally and personally. Some will be lovers (both nurturing and destructive), others will be mentors and rivals (both very instructive roles). All of these relationships will be used by Maimas to forge Francis into the man he envisions: the ultimate work of art combining elements of both the physical and the spiritual world into an enigmatic, but complete human being. In the end Francis is led by both his interests and his connections not only into the world of art and scholarship, but also the realm of espionage and subterfuge. Ultimately he shapes himself into the skilled, knowledgeable, and supremely secretive man who is to provide such an enigmatic puzzle for the would-be biographer Darcourt.
As I said in my opening this book is great. I won’t go any farther into a précis of Francis' life, Davies details it with much more colour, wit, and interest than I could manage in a review, but I have to say that Francis Cornish is a compelling character (at least as much as that equally charming rascal Dunstan Ramsay) and the story of his life is one well worth reading. It is, I think, Davies’ tour-de-force that takes up all of his concerns and preoccupations, uniting them to the story of a life whose variety and pathos makes it both accessible and enlightening.
Definitely check it out.
As the story opens we encounter our old friends Simon Darcourt, Maria Theotoky, and Arthur Cornish some years after we first met them in The Rebel Angels. They are haggling over some problems that Darcourt is having with the inaugural work commissioned by the Cornish Foundation, meant to launch this benevolent body founded by Arthur and Maria into the world of artistic patronage. It is in fact a biography of Francis Cornish, the somewhat mysterious art collector and millionaire whose death played an important, though ancillary, role in the first volume of the Cornish trilogy. It appears as though Darcourt’s problems are two-fold: one is that there are simply too few facts for him to compose anything like the comprehensive scholarly work of biography he desires, the other is that those nuggets that he is able to intuit from the sparse facts of Cornish’s life lead him to believe that some unexpectedly provocative revelations may lie behind what on the surface had seemed a sedentary, even boring, life. Arthur wants none of it. His foundation is surely not to be launched into the world with a work whose main thesis may be that his own uncle was something of a charlatan, or at the very least a man of disingenuous aspect. Darcourt simply bemoans the fact the he is likely never to know the truth of the “rum things” that seem to lie in the background of the life and times of Francis Cornish.
Luckily for the reader Davies has Zadkiel, the minor angel of biography, and Maimas, the personal daimon of Francis Cornish himself, appear on the scene to enlighten us with the true tale of his life. We are at first treated to a view of Francis’ immediate forbears, setting the scene as Maimas would have it, for the places and people that would shape him for better or worse upon his arrival in the world. Thus we meet the premier inhabits of the tiny Canadian hamlet of Blairlogie (the “jumping off point” as some might uncharitably call it): the Senator (Francis’ grandfather James McRory), a man of humble beginnings who rises to prominence in the economic and political world of turn of the century Canada due to shrewd decisions and the ability and desire to take risks, and his comfort-loving wife, Francis’ grand-mère. There is also the sweetly draconian and pious Catholic Aunt Mary-Ben, a spinster who takes over the management of the Senator’s household ostensibly to allow his wife the freedom required to fully live the life required of a society woman, and of course Francis’ parents: the Senator’s favourite daughter Mary-Jim and her very odd husband Francis “the Wooden Soldier” Cornish…the tale of their meeting and circumstances surrounding their marriage plays an important role in the first part of the narrative and ultimately sets the scene for the boy, and man, Francis is to become. Added to these ‘main players’ are the numerous background figures and servants of the prominent household, many of whom will play a much larger role in the life and development of Francis than they, or any of their ‘betters’, might have thought likely. With this the scene is set for Davies’ preoccupation with the twin pillars upon which our lives are built: nature and nurture.
Francis’ life in Blairlogie is lonely and often hard. Being the sensitive and often neglected son of the most prominent family in a small rough-and-tumble backwoods town is not exactly an enviable position for a little boy, especially when you get moved to a school on the other side of the tracks. Francis’ parents and grandparents are often absent, even when they are physically near him, and so his fostering is taken over primarily by his well-meaning, though strange and often misguided Aunt Mary-Ben, as well as the servants Victoria Cameron (a staunch and somewhat harsh, though caring, Presbyterian) and the kind, but unconventional groom Zadok Hoyle. All of these people strongly shape Francis’ young mind, usually in contrary ways, so that he is pulled in several different directions by the people who should be providing him with a stable life. As far as Maimas is concerned this is all to the good, for he cannot forge a great man with the small stuff of ‘normalcy’. Also, Francis is a resourceful boy (who has luckily been ‘gifted’ with his own inspirational daimon) and is thus able to take the varied and ambiguous gifts of these people and form them into something approximating a complete, though certainly fragmented, personality. From these strange roots Francis grows an intriguing crown: a profound love of and ability in art, a deep desire to find the eternal feminine that can provide him with the comfort and love that has always been so elusive to him, and a sense of charity and compassion tempered by a love of money and somewhat cynical eye. All in all it is a foundation that Francis himself describes as “A Catholic soul in Protestant chains”. There is one other shadow-figure of supreme importance to Francis’ life and development, but I will leave the discovery of his role and identity to you from the story itself.
From the small beginnings of rural Ontario Francis moves to the ‘big city’ of Toronto where he attends both Colborne College and ‘Spook’ (academic proving grounds familiar to those of us who have read more widely in Davies) before moving on to Oxford and the wider world of pre-WWII Europe. Here Francis will meet a variety of new people with whose lives and interests he will become entangled, both professionally and personally. Some will be lovers (both nurturing and destructive), others will be mentors and rivals (both very instructive roles). All of these relationships will be used by Maimas to forge Francis into the man he envisions: the ultimate work of art combining elements of both the physical and the spiritual world into an enigmatic, but complete human being. In the end Francis is led by both his interests and his connections not only into the world of art and scholarship, but also the realm of espionage and subterfuge. Ultimately he shapes himself into the skilled, knowledgeable, and supremely secretive man who is to provide such an enigmatic puzzle for the would-be biographer Darcourt.
As I said in my opening this book is great. I won’t go any farther into a précis of Francis' life, Davies details it with much more colour, wit, and interest than I could manage in a review, but I have to say that Francis Cornish is a compelling character (at least as much as that equally charming rascal Dunstan Ramsay) and the story of his life is one well worth reading. It is, I think, Davies’ tour-de-force that takes up all of his concerns and preoccupations, uniting them to the story of a life whose variety and pathos makes it both accessible and enlightening.
Definitely check it out.
February 8, 2018
Ο Ντέιβις είναι ένα ιδιαίτερο κράμα συγγραφέα: γράφει σαν Βρετανός παρότι είναι Καναδός (βλ. εμβρίθεια, καυστικότητα, αυτοσαρκασμός και μικρές δόσεις κυνικότητας), οι ιστορίες έχουν ένα υψηλό επίπεδο πνεύματος το οποίο δεν χρησιμοποιείται προς εντυπωσιασμό ή καλλωπισμό, αλλά είναι τα πράγματα που απασχολούν τον συγγραφέα και από τα οποία φτιάχνει ιστορίες. Ωστόσο στα βιβλία του το πάνω χέρι έχει η καλή ιστορία - δεν είναι ένας φαφλατάς διανοούμενος, αλλά ένας παραμυθάς ο Ντέιβις με τον τρόπο που και ο εμβριθής Σόμερσετ Μομ υπηρετεί πρωτίστως την καλή ιστορία. Ο Ντέιβις έχει πεθάνει, ο απόηχος της όποιας επιτυχίας του έχει πια σβήσει χρόνια τώρα. Το έργο του έχει απορροφηθεί και διαποτίσει στον μικρό ή μεγάλο βαθμό τους συγκαιρινούς και μοντέρνους συγγραφείς. Είμαι, όμως, περίεργος: πως αποτιμάται ο Ντέιβις; Δεν είχα ιδέα για την γραφή του, τον ανακάλυψα τυχαία, και φαίνεται πως είναι από τα ονόματα που αδίκως έχουν μισοχαθεί στην λήθη. Τον θεωρώ σπουδαίο και μόνο λόγω συγκυριών δεν αναφέρεται συχνά, όπως ο Φάουλς του Μάγου.
Ο πρώτος τόμος είχε μια λαμπρή και εκτενή κουστωδία που ο θάνατος ενός συλλέκτη έργων τέχνης, Φράνσις Κορνίς, έφερε κοντά. Τώρα, σε τούτον τον τόμο, ο αναγνώστης μεταφέρεται χρόνια πίσω, στα έργα και τις ημέρες αυτού του ανθρώπου. Τι ήταν αυτό που τον έκανε ξεχωριστό, αυτόν τον μοναχικό άνθρωπο; Η ζωή ανοίχτηκε μπροστά του λαμπρή μέσα από μια σπάνια συναστρία, καθοδηγήθηκε από μια ανώτερη διάνοια με αμφίβολες σκοπιμότητες και τελικά, όπως όλοι μας αργά ή γρήγορα, πέθανε μόνος.
Η πνευματώδης πτυχή της γραφής του Ντέιβις είναι η ραχοκοκαλιά των β��βλίων του - ωστόσο, σε τούτο εδώ, υπερισχύει κατά πολύ, φανερώνοντας έναν λογοτέχνη που θα μπορούσε να σταθεί δίπλα στον Τόμας Μαν του Φαούστους: η καταγωγή μας και ο τρόπου που μεγαλώνει ένα ανθρώπινο ον ως τέχνασμα μιας ανώτερης οντότητας ( ο δαίμονας Μαϊμάς- μια μεστιφολική οντότητα), η τέχνη ως ένα ύψιστο επιδίωξη, ικανή να καθορίσει την μοίρα και την ψυχή μερικών ανθρώπων για τους οποίους υπάρχει πλάνο που τους διακρίνει από την υπόλοιπη μάζα των κοινών θνητών. Η παρουσία του υπερκόσμιου, στα πρόσωπα του αγγέλου και του δαίμονα, ως προσωποποιήσεις μια ανώτερης διάνοιας, στα χέρια των οποίων φαίνεται να είναι οι τύχες μας.
Είναι εντυπωσιακός ο έλεγχος που έχει ο Ντέιβις στην ιστορία του. Σκηνές όπως αυτή του νεαρού Κορνίς σ ένα κάστρο της Γερμανίας όπου μια αστρολόγο του "διαβάζει" στα χαρτιά την παρουσία κάποιου φύλακα στην ζωή του πρωταγωνιστή -κανείς άλλος από τον δαίμονα της παράλληλης διήγησης-, είναι που κάνουν το βιβλίο απολαυστικό. Ο Ντέιβις δεν σταματάει πουθενά: κινείται με ορμή σ' ένα δεξιοτεχνικό σύμφυρμα Τόμας Μαν, σύγχρονου ιστορικού μυθιστορήματος και μυστηρίου, δίχως να σκοντάφτει πουθενά: χειρίζεται με χάρη τις πάμπολλες γνώσεις του με τις οποίες χτίζει την αφήγηση του, δίχως ποτέ να κάνει εκπτώσεις στην μυθοπλασία, στην καλή ιστορία. Οι χαρακτήρες του είναι απολαυστικοί όταν μιλούνε, όταν σκέφτονται και κινούνται, τοποθετημένοι σ ένα αφηγηματικό σχήμα, όπου οι περιγραφές είναι οι απολύτως απαραίτητες. Τι ευτυχία! Επιπλέον, για ένα βιβλίο, προϊόν ενός λόγιου έστω και παραμυθά, προκαλεί έκπληξη η συνέπεια στην ύφανση ενός αφηγηματικού σύμπαντος μεταξύ των βιβλίων - στο υπόβαθρο, εν είδει cameo περνάνε χαρακτήρες από την τριλογία του Ντέπφορντ, όπως χαρακτηριστικά, ο πάλαι ποτέ πρωταγωνιστής της, Ράμσεϊ.
Υπάρχουν πολλά πράματα που με ερέθισαν σε τούτον τον τόμο, όπως φερειπείν οι χαρακτήρες του βιβλίου για τους οποίους το να εμβαθύνουν σε θέματα τέχνης, φιλοσοφίας και θρησκείας είναι βούτυρο στο ψωμί τους, κάνοντας τον αναγνώστη να νιώθει αγροίκος. Ωστόσο αυτό που με συγκλόνισε ήταν πως άνθρωποι χαρισματικοί καταλήγουν καμένα χαρτιά στα μάτια της κοινωνίας, και βλέποντας την ζωή ενός τέτοιου να ξετυλίγεται τόσο λεπτομερώς, σου είναι δύσκολο να εντοπίσεις ποιο ήταν το μονοπάτι που τον οδήγησε σε έναν μοναχικό λαβύρινθο των πιο παραγωγικών χρόνων ενός άντρα (χοντρικά 30 με 60 χρονών), από τον οποίο βγήκε αργά πια για να συντονίσει την ζωή του με τις συμβάσεις μιας κοινωνικής ζωής (μια καλή γυναίκα, μια οικογένεια). Στις τελευταίες του στιγμές κάνει μια αποτίμηση καταλήγοντας πως η ζωή του ήταν πλήρης, με συνέπεια και όχι κενή νοήματος, όπως του μέσου θνητού. Ελπιδοφόρο.
Συγγραφείς σ��ν τον Ντέιβις-δηλαδή, σπάνιες μορφές της τέχνης τους-, ξεσκεπάζουν την φενάκη των συγκαιρινών αλλά και σύγχρονων που απολαμβάνουν την φήμη μέσα από εύκολους εντυπωσιασμούς. Φερ' ε��πείν, η εξιστόρηση στον Γερμανικό πύργο, που δεν είναι παρά ένα μικρό κομμάτι του βιβλίου, κάνει την φανταχτερή παραμυθιά του deWitt, Undermajordomo Minor, να φαντάζει ένα κλούβιο όχημα, με λεπτομέρειες δεύτερου χεριού. Με δικαιώνει που το αντιμετώπισα ως ένα χαριτωμένο ποπ προϊόν επιπέδου τσιχλόφουσκας. Και χαίρομαι που ακόμα ανακαλύπτω συγγραφείς που μου θυμίζουν τι σημαίνει "καλή λογοτεχνία".
Ο πρώτος τόμος είχε μια λαμπρή και εκτενή κουστωδία που ο θάνατος ενός συλλέκτη έργων τέχνης, Φράνσις Κορνίς, έφερε κοντά. Τώρα, σε τούτον τον τόμο, ο αναγνώστης μεταφέρεται χρόνια πίσω, στα έργα και τις ημέρες αυτού του ανθρώπου. Τι ήταν αυτό που τον έκανε ξεχωριστό, αυτόν τον μοναχικό άνθρωπο; Η ζωή ανοίχτηκε μπροστά του λαμπρή μέσα από μια σπάνια συναστρία, καθοδηγήθηκε από μια ανώτερη διάνοια με αμφίβολες σκοπιμότητες και τελικά, όπως όλοι μας αργά ή γρήγορα, πέθανε μόνος.
Η πνευματώδης πτυχή της γραφής του Ντέιβις είναι η ραχοκοκαλιά των β��βλίων του - ωστόσο, σε τούτο εδώ, υπερισχύει κατά πολύ, φανερώνοντας έναν λογοτέχνη που θα μπορούσε να σταθεί δίπλα στον Τόμας Μαν του Φαούστους: η καταγωγή μας και ο τρόπου που μεγαλώνει ένα ανθρώπινο ον ως τέχνασμα μιας ανώτερης οντότητας ( ο δαίμονας Μαϊμάς- μια μεστιφολική οντότητα), η τέχνη ως ένα ύψιστο επιδίωξη, ικανή να καθορίσει την μοίρα και την ψυχή μερικών ανθρώπων για τους οποίους υπάρχει πλάνο που τους διακρίνει από την υπόλοιπη μάζα των κοινών θνητών. Η παρουσία του υπερκόσμιου, στα πρόσωπα του αγγέλου και του δαίμονα, ως προσωποποιήσεις μια ανώτερης διάνοιας, στα χέρια των οποίων φαίνεται να είναι οι τύχες μας.
Είναι εντυπωσιακός ο έλεγχος που έχει ο Ντέιβις στην ιστορία του. Σκηνές όπως αυτή του νεαρού Κορνίς σ ένα κάστρο της Γερμανίας όπου μια αστρολόγο του "διαβάζει" στα χαρτιά την παρουσία κάποιου φύλακα στην ζωή του πρωταγωνιστή -κανείς άλλος από τον δαίμονα της παράλληλης διήγησης-, είναι που κάνουν το βιβλίο απολαυστικό. Ο Ντέιβις δεν σταματάει πουθενά: κινείται με ορμή σ' ένα δεξιοτεχνικό σύμφυρμα Τόμας Μαν, σύγχρονου ιστορικού μυθιστορήματος και μυστηρίου, δίχως να σκοντάφτει πουθενά: χειρίζεται με χάρη τις πάμπολλες γνώσεις του με τις οποίες χτίζει την αφήγηση του, δίχως ποτέ να κάνει εκπτώσεις στην μυθοπλασία, στην καλή ιστορία. Οι χαρακτήρες του είναι απολαυστικοί όταν μιλούνε, όταν σκέφτονται και κινούνται, τοποθετημένοι σ ένα αφηγηματικό σχήμα, όπου οι περιγραφές είναι οι απολύτως απαραίτητες. Τι ευτυχία! Επιπλέον, για ένα βιβλίο, προϊόν ενός λόγιου έστω και παραμυθά, προκαλεί έκπληξη η συνέπεια στην ύφανση ενός αφηγηματικού σύμπαντος μεταξύ των βιβλίων - στο υπόβαθρο, εν είδει cameo περνάνε χαρακτήρες από την τριλογία του Ντέπφορντ, όπως χαρακτηριστικά, ο πάλαι ποτέ πρωταγωνιστής της, Ράμσεϊ.
Υπάρχουν πολλά πράματα που με ερέθισαν σε τούτον τον τόμο, όπως φερειπείν οι χαρακτήρες του βιβλίου για τους οποίους το να εμβαθύνουν σε θέματα τέχνης, φιλοσοφίας και θρησκείας είναι βούτυρο στο ψωμί τους, κάνοντας τον αναγνώστη να νιώθει αγροίκος. Ωστόσο αυτό που με συγκλόνισε ήταν πως άνθρωποι χαρισματικοί καταλήγουν καμένα χαρτιά στα μάτια της κοινωνίας, και βλέποντας την ζωή ενός τέτοιου να ξετυλίγεται τόσο λεπτομερώς, σου είναι δύσκολο να εντοπίσεις ποιο ήταν το μονοπάτι που τον οδήγησε σε έναν μοναχικό λαβύρινθο των πιο παραγωγικών χρόνων ενός άντρα (χοντρικά 30 με 60 χρονών), από τον οποίο βγήκε αργά πια για να συντονίσει την ζωή του με τις συμβάσεις μιας κοινωνικής ζωής (μια καλή γυναίκα, μια οικογένεια). Στις τελευταίες του στιγμές κάνει μια αποτίμηση καταλήγοντας πως η ζωή του ήταν πλήρης, με συνέπεια και όχι κενή νοήματος, όπως του μέσου θνητού. Ελπιδοφόρο.
Συγγραφείς σ��ν τον Ντέιβις-δηλαδή, σπάνιες μορφές της τέχνης τους-, ξεσκεπάζουν την φενάκη των συγκαιρινών αλλά και σύγχρονων που απολαμβάνουν την φήμη μέσα από εύκολους εντυπωσιασμούς. Φερ' ε��πείν, η εξιστόρηση στον Γερμανικό πύργο, που δεν είναι παρά ένα μικρό κομμάτι του βιβλίου, κάνει την φανταχτερή παραμυθιά του deWitt, Undermajordomo Minor, να φαντάζει ένα κλούβιο όχημα, με λεπτομέρειες δεύτερου χεριού. Με δικαιώνει που το αντιμετώπισα ως ένα χαριτωμένο ποπ προϊόν επιπέδου τσιχλόφουσκας. Και χαίρομαι που ακόμα ανακαλύπτω συγγραφείς που μου θυμίζουν τι σημαίνει "καλή λογοτεχνία".
August 18, 2022
A polymath and encyclopedist in the field of hagiography and classical painting, Davis gives the reader a truly intellectual enjoyment of the novel, balancing on the verge of family, historical, picaresque, espionage, books on history, art, history of art, religion, history of religion and esotericism. I would like to say a few words about astrology in addition. Meister* has great respect for her, although as a person who is no stranger to this science (or art), I dejectedly state that the accuracy of interpretations leaves much to be desired. But this is a claim from a series of those that railway workers could present to Anna Karenina. Then I'll finish it.
Гений и мораль
Правило двух книг, всегда применяю его, когда знакомлюсь с новым писателем, который кажется интересным или нравится, или то и другое. Робертсон Дэвис, канадец с окладистой толстовско-дарвиновой бородой не просто показался интересным или понравился, но поразил в самое сердце позапрошлым летом, когда его "Мятежные ангелы" открыли, доселе мне неизвестную, великую канадскую литературу
Встреча с гением, как яркая вспышка в ночи или гром в тишине, перетрясает все твоё естество, эмоций много: поверх всего радостное удивление как могла не знать? И жадность золотоискателя, наткнувшегося на жилу. И желание тут же непременно осчастливить своим открытием мир: вы не знали, я тоже не знала, но теперь я вам расскажу и будет нам счастье.
Он гений, а что не взял Нобеля, на которого номинировался - то стечение обстоятельств и может быть отчасти демонстрация некоего печального и неотвратимого закона, согласно которому лучшие не получают признание, которого заслуживают, при жизни. Ах да, о правиле двух книг, разумеется, схватила тотчас же второй роман, им оказался "Пятый персонаж" - первая часть на сей раз Дептфорской трилогии (мастер тяготеет к монументальным формам) и с ровно тем же результатом - счастливой ошеломленности - он невообразимо хорош. Он совершенство.
Потом отступилась надолго. Н-ну, потому что иногда для счастья достаточно сознавать себя владельцем немыслимых сокровищ, которые ждут своего часа, чтобы осветить сиянием твою жизнь, не обязательно набрасываться, как оголодавший на еду. Вот и пришло время второй книги Корнишской трилогии, романа с неуютным названием "Что в костях заложено".
Сюжетообразующее событие то же, что в "Мятежных ангелах" - кончина знаменитого коллекционера предметов искусства Френсиса Корниша. В первой книге трое душеприказчиков этого баснословно, как выясняется, богатого человека, не лишенного авантюрной жилки (как же, жилки, жилы, станового хребта) распутывают дивной красоты ребус с автографом Франсуа Рабле в лучших традициях Имени Розы. Вторая - по сути биография Корниша ("а теперь давайте рассказывайте, как дошли до жизни такой").
Собственно, Френсис Корниш - Дядюшка Скрудж робертсондэвисовскрй литературной вселенной, одинокий бездетный богач, посвятивший жизнь более или менее успешному отражению атак общественности на коллекцию своих чудес и диковин. Общественность обычно имеет написанным на знамени: "Искусство принадлежит народу!", не имея намерений сколько-нибудь адекватно оплачивать творцу его труд.
А человек, вознамерившийся утаить - отчасти тать. И вообще, какой то несимпатичный. Да к тому же не слишком блестящий (при таких то деньжищах) , ни о ком не заботится - ни котёнка, ни ребёнка. И что то ещё в нем, слабоуловимое, но мутно аферистическое. А вот не взять ли этого человека, да не попробовать ли разглядеть, что у него в костях заложено.
Поражаясь, насколько незащищенной и наполненной страданиями может быть жизнь ребёнка из богатой семьи, которого иначе, чем любимчиком Фортуны и назвать не подумаешь. Как одинок путь человека, ищущего свое предназначение, какую суровую школу приходится ему пройти, в каких неожиданных местах и у каких неподходящих людей находить сочувствие. И каких, еще более неподходящих, одаривать своим. Нет, это не книга о том, что богатые тоже плачут. Скорее о том, как важно быть человеком, независимо от толщины кошелька и преимуществ, даруемых происхождением. И снобизма блестящего интеллекта. отточенного элитным образованием. И превосходства таланта над обывателями, которого не можешь не ощущать.
Эрудит и энциклопедист в области агиографии и классической живописи, Дэвис дарит читателю подлинно интеллектуальное наслаждение романом, балансирующим на грани семейного, исторического, плутовского, шпионского, книги по истории, искусству, истории искусства, религии, истории религии и эзотерике. Об астрологии хотелось бы пару слов дополнительно. Майстер* к ней с большим уважением, хотя как человек, не чуждый этой науки (или искусства), удрученно констатирую, что точность интерпретаций оставляет желать лучшего. Но это претензия из серии тех, что работники железной дороги могли бы предъявить к "Анне Карениной". Засим, закончу.
* "Майстер" - так подмастерье немецкого или голландского художника должен был именовать Учителя. Так в пору ученичества обращался Френсии Корниш к Танкреду Сарацини и до такого звания был повышен им после написания "Брака в Кане"
Гений и мораль
Правило двух книг, всегда применяю его, когда знакомлюсь с новым писателем, который кажется интересным или нравится, или то и другое. Робертсон Дэвис, канадец с окладистой толстовско-дарвиновой бородой не просто показался интересным или понравился, но поразил в самое сердце позапрошлым летом, когда его "Мятежные ангелы" открыли, доселе мне неизвестную, великую канадскую литературу
Встреча с гением, как яркая вспышка в ночи или гром в тишине, перетрясает все твоё естество, эмоций много: поверх всего радостное удивление как могла не знать? И жадность золотоискателя, наткнувшегося на жилу. И желание тут же непременно осчастливить своим открытием мир: вы не знали, я тоже не знала, но теперь я вам расскажу и будет нам счастье.
Он гений, а что не взял Нобеля, на которого номинировался - то стечение обстоятельств и может быть отчасти демонстрация некоего печального и неотвратимого закона, согласно которому лучшие не получают признание, которого заслуживают, при жизни. Ах да, о правиле двух книг, разумеется, схватила тотчас же второй роман, им оказался "Пятый персонаж" - первая часть на сей раз Дептфорской трилогии (мастер тяготеет к монументальным формам) и с ровно тем же результатом - счастливой ошеломленности - он невообразимо хорош. Он совершенство.
Потом отступилась надолго. Н-ну, потому что иногда для счастья достаточно сознавать себя владельцем немыслимых сокровищ, которые ждут своего часа, чтобы осветить сиянием твою жизнь, не обязательно набрасываться, как оголодавший на еду. Вот и пришло время второй книги Корнишской трилогии, романа с неуютным названием "Что в костях заложено".
Сюжетообразующее событие то же, что в "Мятежных ангелах" - кончина знаменитого коллекционера предметов искусства Френсиса Корниша. В первой книге трое душеприказчиков этого баснословно, как выясняется, богатого человека, не лишенного авантюрной жилки (как же, жилки, жилы, станового хребта) распутывают дивной красоты ребус с автографом Франсуа Рабле в лучших традициях Имени Розы. Вторая - по сути биография Корниша ("а теперь давайте рассказывайте, как дошли до жизни такой").
Собственно, Френсис Корниш - Дядюшка Скрудж робертсондэвисовскрй литературной вселенной, одинокий бездетный богач, посвятивший жизнь более или менее успешному отражению атак общественности на коллекцию своих чудес и диковин. Общественность обычно имеет написанным на знамени: "Искусство принадлежит народу!", не имея намерений сколько-нибудь адекватно оплачивать творцу его труд.
А человек, вознамерившийся утаить - отчасти тать. И вообще, какой то несимпатичный. Да к тому же не слишком блестящий (при таких то деньжищах) , ни о ком не заботится - ни котёнка, ни ребёнка. И что то ещё в нем, слабоуловимое, но мутно аферистическое. А вот не взять ли этого человека, да не попробовать ли разглядеть, что у него в костях заложено.
Поражаясь, насколько незащищенной и наполненной страданиями может быть жизнь ребёнка из богатой семьи, которого иначе, чем любимчиком Фортуны и назвать не подумаешь. Как одинок путь человека, ищущего свое предназначение, какую суровую школу приходится ему пройти, в каких неожиданных местах и у каких неподходящих людей находить сочувствие. И каких, еще более неподходящих, одаривать своим. Нет, это не книга о том, что богатые тоже плачут. Скорее о том, как важно быть человеком, независимо от толщины кошелька и преимуществ, даруемых происхождением. И снобизма блестящего интеллекта. отточенного элитным образованием. И превосходства таланта над обывателями, которого не можешь не ощущать.
Эрудит и энциклопедист в области агиографии и классической живописи, Дэвис дарит читателю подлинно интеллектуальное наслаждение романом, балансирующим на грани семейного, исторического, плутовского, шпионского, книги по истории, искусству, истории искусства, религии, истории религии и эзотерике. Об астрологии хотелось бы пару слов дополнительно. Майстер* к ней с большим уважением, хотя как человек, не чуждый этой науки (или искусства), удрученно констатирую, что точность интерпретаций оставляет желать лучшего. Но это претензия из серии тех, что работники железной дороги могли бы предъявить к "Анне Карениной". Засим, закончу.
* "Майстер" - так подмастерье немецкого или голландского художника должен был именовать Учителя. Так в пору ученичества обращался Френсии Корниш к Танкреду Сарацини и до такого звания был повышен им после написания "Брака в Кане"
December 13, 2016
This novel has been penned by Canadian author Robertson Davies and is the second book in the Cornish trilogy, but it can be read as a standalone novel.
I had chanced upon this book while book hunting in a second hand bookstore. I had never heard of Robertson Davies but something about the book, most probably the blurb appealed to me and I bought it.
The story starts with a meeting between the sole three members of the newly founded Cornish Foundation for Promotion of the Arts and Humane Scholarship. The three individuals are Arthur Cornish, banker and member of the powerful Cornish family- the leading financial family of Canada, the priest-academic Reverend Simon Darcourt and Arthur’s wife Maria.
The foundation had commissioned a book on the life of Arthur’s uncle the late Francis Chegwidden Cornish – an art expert & collector of international renown and Darcourt was supposed to write it. Unfortunately Darcourt’s research had revealed some unsavoury truth about Francis and Arthur, fearful of the adverse impact on the family’s reputation wants the book to be “dropped”.
Then the narration of the story passes on to two mythical beings – Daimon Maimas: Francis’s daimon and Lesser Zadkiel, the angel of Biography. They have a look into the life of Francis Cornish as recorded Maimas reveals how he had tried to influence Cornish’s life to make him a great man. A daimon is a tutelary spirit that guides a person but here Maimas did more than that and kept on heaping adversities on Cornish from a young age as he believed that adversities are necessary to grow. Maimas is no guardian angel whom he regards as a theological fraud . Is the author trying to say that we have no control over our lives! Maybe, maybe not!
So begins the story of Francis Cornish – a precocious child, neglected by his parents, growing up under the care of his maternal grandfather’s spinster sister, the deeply religious Mary-Ben, influenced by some of their domestic helps and relentlessly bullied at school. The poor kid also had to contend with a dark family secret. Despite all this, Francis gets attracted to art – strikes up a friendship with an embalmer and further grows as an artist.
We accompany him from his village to an elite school, then to Oxford-where he is recruited by the British Intelligence, his spy mission in Germany, then back to England and finally we return to Canada with him.
He meets plenty of interesting characters along the way –his mentor, an Italian art restorer, Tancred Saraceni; Ismay, whom he marries and is soon betrayed; a British spymaster; a Bavarian Countess to whose estate he accompanies Saraceni and is unwillingly involved in an art hoax; Ruth Nibsmith, governess to the Countess’s niece as well as an astrologer (usually astrologers are portrayed as frauds in most books and movies but here we meet a genuine one) and many others.
We get to see Francis as a spy, an art fraud, a lover, an art collector but throughout he remains a decent man.
The author has done a good job of portraying the various facets of human nature – orthodoxy, bias, prejudice, jealousy, avarice, opportunism, infidelity. His observations on human nature are so accurate and nicely presented. The story is filled with twists and ironies and the writing bears testimony to the author’s skills and wit. Some of the characters are well fleshed out and believable. The author’s treatment of the complex nature of Francis is commendable. Should you decide to read you would be rewarded with some splendid dialogues.
I thoroughly enjoyed the dialogues between Francis and Saraceni where the latter tries to justify the hoax they were involved in. I also liked the art-related conversion between the characters especially the interpretations of paintings. I don’t know anything about art but the writing was such that I was able to understand the essence of the conversations.
The scene where Francis would expose a fake painting was amazing – nothing sort of a brilliant power of observation worthy of our great fictional detectives. I would take the liberty to state that the great Sherlock Holmes himself would have been impressed.
I loved the book but felt that certain portions could have been shortened. This is my only criticism.
I would recommend this book to people who enjoy a fine story.
The other books in the series seem to be equally interesting and I would be on the lookout for them.
I had chanced upon this book while book hunting in a second hand bookstore. I had never heard of Robertson Davies but something about the book, most probably the blurb appealed to me and I bought it.
The story starts with a meeting between the sole three members of the newly founded Cornish Foundation for Promotion of the Arts and Humane Scholarship. The three individuals are Arthur Cornish, banker and member of the powerful Cornish family- the leading financial family of Canada, the priest-academic Reverend Simon Darcourt and Arthur’s wife Maria.
The foundation had commissioned a book on the life of Arthur’s uncle the late Francis Chegwidden Cornish – an art expert & collector of international renown and Darcourt was supposed to write it. Unfortunately Darcourt’s research had revealed some unsavoury truth about Francis and Arthur, fearful of the adverse impact on the family’s reputation wants the book to be “dropped”.
Then the narration of the story passes on to two mythical beings – Daimon Maimas: Francis’s daimon and Lesser Zadkiel, the angel of Biography. They have a look into the life of Francis Cornish as recorded Maimas reveals how he had tried to influence Cornish’s life to make him a great man. A daimon is a tutelary spirit that guides a person but here Maimas did more than that and kept on heaping adversities on Cornish from a young age as he believed that adversities are necessary to grow. Maimas is no guardian angel whom he regards as a theological fraud . Is the author trying to say that we have no control over our lives! Maybe, maybe not!
So begins the story of Francis Cornish – a precocious child, neglected by his parents, growing up under the care of his maternal grandfather’s spinster sister, the deeply religious Mary-Ben, influenced by some of their domestic helps and relentlessly bullied at school. The poor kid also had to contend with a dark family secret. Despite all this, Francis gets attracted to art – strikes up a friendship with an embalmer and further grows as an artist.
We accompany him from his village to an elite school, then to Oxford-where he is recruited by the British Intelligence, his spy mission in Germany, then back to England and finally we return to Canada with him.
He meets plenty of interesting characters along the way –his mentor, an Italian art restorer, Tancred Saraceni; Ismay, whom he marries and is soon betrayed; a British spymaster; a Bavarian Countess to whose estate he accompanies Saraceni and is unwillingly involved in an art hoax; Ruth Nibsmith, governess to the Countess’s niece as well as an astrologer (usually astrologers are portrayed as frauds in most books and movies but here we meet a genuine one) and many others.
We get to see Francis as a spy, an art fraud, a lover, an art collector but throughout he remains a decent man.
The author has done a good job of portraying the various facets of human nature – orthodoxy, bias, prejudice, jealousy, avarice, opportunism, infidelity. His observations on human nature are so accurate and nicely presented. The story is filled with twists and ironies and the writing bears testimony to the author’s skills and wit. Some of the characters are well fleshed out and believable. The author’s treatment of the complex nature of Francis is commendable. Should you decide to read you would be rewarded with some splendid dialogues.
I thoroughly enjoyed the dialogues between Francis and Saraceni where the latter tries to justify the hoax they were involved in. I also liked the art-related conversion between the characters especially the interpretations of paintings. I don’t know anything about art but the writing was such that I was able to understand the essence of the conversations.
The scene where Francis would expose a fake painting was amazing – nothing sort of a brilliant power of observation worthy of our great fictional detectives. I would take the liberty to state that the great Sherlock Holmes himself would have been impressed.
I loved the book but felt that certain portions could have been shortened. This is my only criticism.
I would recommend this book to people who enjoy a fine story.
The other books in the series seem to be equally interesting and I would be on the lookout for them.
May 19, 2018
Although starting with the same characters who inhabit The Rebel Angels, What's Bred in the Bone, the second book of The Cornish Trilogy, is a prequel. How to tell the story of Frank Cornish, recently deceased eccentric uncle, wealthy banker and, more mysteriously, art collector and patron, when so little is known to the living characters?
Listen to this dialogue between the Anglican-priest-turned-scholar and would-be biographer Simon Darcourt and the beautiful Maria, recently wed to Frank's nephew and heir, Arthur Cornish:
There you have it: the pretext for the appearance of the Lesser Zadkiel and the Daimon Maimas, who put in an occasional appearance as commentators, plus a sample of the author's beautiful and imaginative writing. Not to give too much away: Francis Cornish had adventures that include learning to paint in a genuinely Renaissance manner and spying against Germany in the Second World War.
This book has been a favorite since I first read it about 25 years ago. I will say that, like a house one has known in childhood, the book seems just a little smaller, the rooms less awesome and the hall to the back of the house less dark and strange. This book has shrunk just a tad. Still, a four and three-fourths.
This time around, I listened to the wonderful audio by Frederick Davidson, whose real name was David Frederick Case. There is no e-edition of this book, but the audio was recaptured from old tapes. Both author and narrator are gone now, but their words remain.
Listen to this dialogue between the Anglican-priest-turned-scholar and would-be biographer Simon Darcourt and the beautiful Maria, recently wed to Frank's nephew and heir, Arthur Cornish:
"But are the childhood years so important?"
"Maria, you astonish me! Weren't your childhood years important? They are the matrix from which a life grows."
"And that's all gone?"
"Unless you can wangle a chat with the Recording Angel."
"I don't think I believe in a Recording Angel. We are all our own Recording Angels."
"Then I am more orthodox than you. I believe in a Recording Angel. I even know his name."
"Pooh, you medievalists have a name for everything. Just somebody's invention."
"Why not somebody's revelation? Don't be so hidebound, Simon. The name of the Recording Angel was Radueriel, and he wasn't just a book-keeper; he was the Angel of Poetry, and Master of the Muses. He also had a staff."
"Wound with serpents, like the caduceus of Hermes, I suppose."
"Not that kind of staff; a civil service staff. One of its important members was the Angel of Biography, and his name was the Lesser Zadkiel. He was the angel who interfered when Abraham was about to sacrifice Isaac, so he is an angel of mercy, though a lot of biographers aren't. The Lesser Zadkiel could give you the lowdown on Francis Cornish."
Darcourt by now was unquestionably drunk. He became lyrical.
"Maria--dear Maria--forgive me for being stupid about the Recording Angel. Of course he exists--exists as a metaphor for all that illimitable history of humanity and inhumanity and inanimate life and everything that has ever been, which must exist some place or else the whole of life is reduced to a stupid file with no beginning and no possible ending. It's wonderful to talk to you, my dearest, because you think medievally. You have a personification or a symbol for everything. You don't talk about ethics: you talk about saints and their protective spheres and their influences. You donn't use lettuce-juice words like 'extraterrestrial'; you talk frankly about Heaven and Hell. You don't blather about neuroses; you just say demons."
"Certainly I haven't a scientific vocabulary," said Maria.
"Well, science is the theology of our time, and like the old theology it's a muddle of conflicting assertions. What gripes my gut is that it has such a miserable vocabulary and such a pallid pack of images to offer to us--to the humble laity--for our edification and our faith. The old priest in his black robe gave us things that seemed to have concrete existence; you prayed to the Mother of God and somebody had given you an image that looked just right for the Mother of God. The new priest in his whitish lab-coat gives you nothing at all except a constantly changing vocabulary which he--because he usually doesn't know any Greek--can't pronounce, and you are expected to trust him implicitly because he knows what you are too dumb to comprehend. It's the most overweening, pompous priesthood mankind has ever endured in all its recorded history, and its lack of symbol and metaphor and its zeal for abstraction drive mankind to a barren land of starved imagination. But you, Maria, speak the old language that strikes to the heart. You talk about the Recording Angel and you talk about his lesser angels, and we both know exactly what you mean. You give comprehensible and attractive names to psychological facts, and God--another effectively named psychological fact--bless you for it."
"You're raving ever so slightly, darling, and it's time you went home."
There you have it: the pretext for the appearance of the Lesser Zadkiel and the Daimon Maimas, who put in an occasional appearance as commentators, plus a sample of the author's beautiful and imaginative writing. Not to give too much away: Francis Cornish had adventures that include learning to paint in a genuinely Renaissance manner and spying against Germany in the Second World War.
This book has been a favorite since I first read it about 25 years ago. I will say that, like a house one has known in childhood, the book seems just a little smaller, the rooms less awesome and the hall to the back of the house less dark and strange. This book has shrunk just a tad. Still, a four and three-fourths.
This time around, I listened to the wonderful audio by Frederick Davidson, whose real name was David Frederick Case. There is no e-edition of this book, but the audio was recaptured from old tapes. Both author and narrator are gone now, but their words remain.
December 13, 2020
(Cornish Trilogy, Book 2)
Η ασάλευτη θλιβερή μουσική της ανθρωπότητας, που εξαγνίζει και απαλύνει. Η κρυμμένη βαθιά λύπη των πραγμάτων, η προσπάθεια κατανόησης και παράβλεψης των αιχμών.
«Βαθιά ριζωμένο»σημαίνει, ίσως, ότι το εξωστρεφές γίνεται εσωστρεφές. Στην εξερεύνηση του εξωτερικού κόσμου προστέθηκε μια νέα εξερεύνηση του υποκειμενικού κόσμου, μια εξερεύνηση που ήταν αδύνατο να στηριχτεί στα παλιά χαρτογραφημένα κομμάτια της θρησκείας.
Προφανώς και ήταν η λογική κατάληξη της τέχνης
της Αναγέννησης,η διάρκεια τριών περίπου αιώνων
που αποκαλούμε Αναγέννηση δημιούργησε στο πνεύμα του πολιτισμένου ατόμου μια ριζική αλλαγή.
Η βαθιά ριζωμένη αιτία για την εξερεύνηση του προσωπικού εσωτερικού μεγαλείου έγινε αποτελεσματική και με δεδομένη την ύπαρξη εντιμότητας η σκαπάνη της ψυχολογικής ενόρασης αποκαλύπτει ο,τι ποταπό και αμαρτωλό και ταπεινό υπήρχε στο «Αμλετικό» μεγαλείο που πρωταγωνιστεί σε πολιτικές, κοινωνικές, προσωπικές και αμφίσημες ιδέες, άξιες να εκφράσουν την τέχνη σε κάποια απο τις πολλές μορφές της.
(Κλίνει περισσότερο προς τη μεταφυσική αναζήτηση παρά προς την άμεση δράση. Αυτή η εμφάνιση του Άμλετ συνέτεινε στο να λάβει το όνομά του μια παροιμιώδη διάσταση, με την έννοια του αινιγματικού και αμφιταλαντευόμενου ανθρώπου- Αμλετικός)
Η μανία της μοντέρνας τιμιότητας φέρνει στο προσκήνιο ωμά κομμάτια της ψυχής τόσο βαθιά ριζωμένα που στους περισσότερους ανθρώπους μοιάζουν με χάος.
Μέσα από μια δυναμική μελέτη χαρακτήρων του πρωταγωνιστή, Φράνσις Κόρνις ο Davies εξάγει προσεκτικά συμπεράσματα σχετικά με την ένταση μεταξύ φύσης και ανατροφής. Ο συγγραφέας χρησιμοποιεί τη φανταστική αφήγηση των αγγέλων
που είναι γνωστοί ως δαίμονες που ρίχνουν εμπόδια και επιλογές στο δρόμο του νεαρού Φράνσις.
Οι αποφάσεις του Φ. Κόρνις μαστίζουν ζωές και τον καθοδηγούν σε μια συναρπαστική ζωή που ζούσε στον Καναδά, την Αυστρία και την Αγγλία.
Με προσεκτική ματιά στις λεπτομέρειες της θρησκείας, της κοινωνίας μέσω πολέμων. της τέχνης, του έρωτα, της απάτης, της προδοσίας, και των τομών τους στον κόσμο γενικά, ο Ντέιβις παράγει ένα υπέροχο έργο λογοτεχνικού μεγαλείου.
Απαιτητικό, αργόσυρτο, ελαφρώς κουραστικό αλλά πολύ ενδιαφέρων και γεμάτο λεπτομέρειες και με πολλές εκτροπές και απότομες στροφές πλοκής μέσα σε μια σφιχτοδεμένη υφή πραγματείας γύρω απο την τέχνη
και τα ενδότερα στρώματα της ανθρώπινης διαίσθησης. Μέσω ταλέντου και ανώτατης μόρφωσης, μέσω καταγωγής και παιδικών αναμνήσεων, μέσω βαθιά ριζωμένων κατάλοιπων με
αταβιστική ομοιομορφία.
Αλλά αυτό ξεχνιέται μέσα σε ένα διασκεδαστικό και συχνά τρελό Bildungsroman, μεταφέροντας τον Φράνσις από το μακρινό Blairlogie του Καναδά στο σχολείο των αγροτικών και τραπεζιτικών παθών και λαθών και το κολέγιο στο Τορόντο, και από εκεί στην Οξφόρδη.
Μέχρι να αποφοιτήσει, βρισκόμαστε στη σελίδα 250 και κάτι, ενός μυθιστορήματος 452 σελίδων, ή ακριβώς τα δύο τρίτα του δρόμου.
Εξ’ου και ο περίεργος τίτλος, από μια παλιά παροιμία: "Αυτό που ριζώνεται βαθιά μέσα στο μυελό των οστών και στα φαράγγια της ανυπέρβλητα σκο��εινής ψυχής δεν θα μπορούσε είναι έξω από τη σάρκα".
Η συνέπεια του νοήματος έγκειται στο γεγονός πως
δεν γίνεται να καταλάβουμε ένα άτομο( μέσα- έξω )
έως ότου γνωρίσουμε το προγονικό του έρεβος και τον εκ φύσεως σχηματισμό του, κόντρα σε πολλούς ανασχηματισμούς.Μάλιστα, ακόμη και για τις επόμενες 80-100 σελίδες, ο Φράνσις Κόρνις συνεχίζει να ασκεί μαθητεία. ( πνευματική κούραση αναγνώστη ενεργοποιημένη).
Ο Δαίμων Μαϊμάς, το Προστατευτικό Πνεύμα, η Ενυπάρχουσα Ουσία και ο Άγγελος της βιογραφίας Ήσσων Ζαδκιήλ είναι οι δυο αυτόπτες μάρτυρες που ανέγγιχτοι απο τον ζυγό του χρόνου των κοινών θνητών αφηγούνται με πάθος και περισσή περηφάνεια την ζωή και τα έργα του Φράνσις Κόρνις.
Υπήρξε μέγιστη η συμμετοχή του ενός στην εξελικτική πορεία της ύπαρξης, της φήμης και της υστεροφημίας του μέσα απο ένα προγονικό μείγμα, βαθιά ριζωμένο μέσα στον καλά μεταμφιεσμένο !..άνθρωπο μας.
🧚♀️🧚♀️🧚♀️
Καλή ανάγνωση.
Πολλούς ασπασμούς.
Η ασάλευτη θλιβερή μουσική της ανθρωπότητας, που εξαγνίζει και απαλύνει. Η κρυμμένη βαθιά λύπη των πραγμάτων, η προσπάθεια κατανόησης και παράβλεψης των αιχμών.
«Βαθιά ριζωμένο»σημαίνει, ίσως, ότι το εξωστρεφές γίνεται εσωστρεφές. Στην εξερεύνηση του εξωτερικού κόσμου προστέθηκε μια νέα εξερεύνηση του υποκειμενικού κόσμου, μια εξερεύνηση που ήταν αδύνατο να στηριχτεί στα παλιά χαρτογραφημένα κομμάτια της θρησκείας.
Προφανώς και ήταν η λογική κατάληξη της τέχνης
της Αναγέννησης,η διάρκεια τριών περίπου αιώνων
που αποκαλούμε Αναγέννηση δημιούργησε στο πνεύμα του πολιτισμένου ατόμου μια ριζική αλλαγή.
Η βαθιά ριζωμένη αιτία για την εξερεύνηση του προσωπικού εσωτερικού μεγαλείου έγινε αποτελεσματική και με δεδομένη την ύπαρξη εντιμότητας η σκαπάνη της ψυχολογικής ενόρασης αποκαλύπτει ο,τι ποταπό και αμαρτωλό και ταπεινό υπήρχε στο «Αμλετικό» μεγαλείο που πρωταγωνιστεί σε πολιτικές, κοινωνικές, προσωπικές και αμφίσημες ιδέες, άξιες να εκφράσουν την τέχνη σε κάποια απο τις πολλές μορφές της.
(Κλίνει περισσότερο προς τη μεταφυσική αναζήτηση παρά προς την άμεση δράση. Αυτή η εμφάνιση του Άμλετ συνέτεινε στο να λάβει το όνομά του μια παροιμιώδη διάσταση, με την έννοια του αινιγματικού και αμφιταλαντευόμενου ανθρώπου- Αμλετικός)
Η μανία της μοντέρνας τιμιότητας φέρνει στο προσκήνιο ωμά κομμάτια της ψυχής τόσο βαθιά ριζωμένα που στους περισσότερους ανθρώπους μοιάζουν με χάος.
Μέσα από μια δυναμική μελέτη χαρακτήρων του πρωταγωνιστή, Φράνσις Κόρνις ο Davies εξάγει προσεκτικά συμπεράσματα σχετικά με την ένταση μεταξύ φύσης και ανατροφής. Ο συγγραφέας χρησιμοποιεί τη φανταστική αφήγηση των αγγέλων
που είναι γνωστοί ως δαίμονες που ρίχνουν εμπόδια και επιλογές στο δρόμο του νεαρού Φράνσις.
Οι αποφάσεις του Φ. Κόρνις μαστίζουν ζωές και τον καθοδηγούν σε μια συναρπαστική ζωή που ζούσε στον Καναδά, την Αυστρία και την Αγγλία.
Με προσεκτική ματιά στις λεπτομέρειες της θρησκείας, της κοινωνίας μέσω πολέμων. της τέχνης, του έρωτα, της απάτης, της προδοσίας, και των τομών τους στον κόσμο γενικά, ο Ντέιβις παράγει ένα υπέροχο έργο λογοτεχνικού μεγαλείου.
Απαιτητικό, αργόσυρτο, ελαφρώς κουραστικό αλλά πολύ ενδιαφέρων και γεμάτο λεπτομέρειες και με πολλές εκτροπές και απότομες στροφές πλοκής μέσα σε μια σφιχτοδεμένη υφή πραγματείας γύρω απο την τέχνη
και τα ενδότερα στρώματα της ανθρώπινης διαίσθησης. Μέσω ταλέντου και ανώτατης μόρφωσης, μέσω καταγωγής και παιδικών αναμνήσεων, μέσω βαθιά ριζωμένων κατάλοιπων με
αταβιστική ομοιομορφία.
Αλλά αυτό ξεχνιέται μέσα σε ένα διασκεδαστικό και συχνά τρελό Bildungsroman, μεταφέροντας τον Φράνσις από το μακρινό Blairlogie του Καναδά στο σχολείο των αγροτικών και τραπεζιτικών παθών και λαθών και το κολέγιο στο Τορόντο, και από εκεί στην Οξφόρδη.
Μέχρι να αποφοιτήσει, βρισκόμαστε στη σελίδα 250 και κάτι, ενός μυθιστορήματος 452 σελίδων, ή ακριβώς τα δύο τρίτα του δρόμου.
Εξ’ου και ο περίεργος τίτλος, από μια παλιά παροιμία: "Αυτό που ριζώνεται βαθιά μέσα στο μυελό των οστών και στα φαράγγια της ανυπέρβλητα σκο��εινής ψυχής δεν θα μπορούσε είναι έξω από τη σάρκα".
Η συνέπεια του νοήματος έγκειται στο γεγονός πως
δεν γίνεται να καταλάβουμε ένα άτομο( μέσα- έξω )
έως ότου γνωρίσουμε το προγονικό του έρεβος και τον εκ φύσεως σχηματισμό του, κόντρα σε πολλούς ανασχηματισμούς.Μάλιστα, ακόμη και για τις επόμενες 80-100 σελίδες, ο Φράνσις Κόρνις συνεχίζει να ασκεί μαθητεία. ( πνευματική κούραση αναγνώστη ενεργοποιημένη).
Ο Δαίμων Μαϊμάς, το Προστατευτικό Πνεύμα, η Ενυπάρχουσα Ουσία και ο Άγγελος της βιογραφίας Ήσσων Ζαδκιήλ είναι οι δυο αυτόπτες μάρτυρες που ανέγγιχτοι απο τον ζυγό του χρόνου των κοινών θνητών αφηγούνται με πάθος και περισσή περηφάνεια την ζωή και τα έργα του Φράνσις Κόρνις.
Υπήρξε μέγιστη η συμμετοχή του ενός στην εξελικτική πορεία της ύπαρξης, της φήμης και της υστεροφημίας του μέσα απο ένα προγονικό μείγμα, βαθιά ριζωμένο μέσα στον καλά μεταμφιεσμένο !..άνθρωπο μας.
🧚♀️🧚♀️🧚♀️
Καλή ανάγνωση.
Πολλούς ασπασμούς.
October 16, 2018
Η ιστορία λοιπόν των Κόρνις συνεχίζεται από το σημείο που σταμάτησε στο πρώτο βιβλίο. Mε μια διαφορά όμως. Ένα φλας μπακ. Μια αναδρομή στο παρελθόν του μαικήνα Φράνσις Κόρνις...
Ο πάτερ Νταρκούρ θέλει να γράψει την βιογραφία του ιδιόρρυθμου Φράνσις Κόρνιςμε την βοήθεια του ανεψιού του Άρθουρ και της συζύγου του Μαρία Θεοτόκη. Από κει και μετά παίρνουν την σκυτάλη δυο άγγελοι -ή μήπως δαίμονες-, ο Ήσσων Ζαδκιήλ ο Άγγελος της βιογραφίας και ο Δαίμων Μαιμάς ο προστάτης άγγελος του Φράνσις.
Μέσω των συζητήσεων τους λοιπόν μαθαίνουμε τα πάντα για τον εκκεντρικό κύριο Κόρνις, τα πάντα από την γέννηση μέχρι τον θάνατο του. Οι δυο άγγελοι εξιστορούν με λεπτομέρειες πως σφυρηλατήθηκε η προσωπικότητα του Φράνσις, τους έρωτες του, τις απογοητεύσεις του και τα μεγάλα διλήμματα που κλήθηκε να αντιμετωπίσει.
Ο Φράνσις Κόρνις έζησε μια ζωή γεμάτη προσπαθώντας να διαχωρίσει το καλό από το κακό, το νέο από παλιό, την αγάπη από τον έρωτα. Αγάπησε την τέχνη αλλά και το χρήμα. Κάτι όμως ήταν βαθειά ριζωμένο μέσα στην καρδιά του. Τι ακριβώς ήταν αυτό;
Απολαυστική η γραφή του Ντέιβις για άλλη μια φορά. Αναφορές στην τέχνη, συνεχείς ανατροπές και κριτική στον καλλιτεχνικό κόσμο.
Αρκετές φορές βέβαια ο Καναδός συγγραφέας πύκνωνε το γράψιμο του με αποτέλεσμα οι σελίδες να κυλάνε πολύ αργά, χωρίς όμως το βιβλίο να χάνει το ενδιαφέρον του.
Τέλος οι αναφορές του Ντέβις σε πίνακες ζωγραφικής και οι περιγραφές του με έκαναν να πιστεύω πως είχα τους πίνακες μπρος μου και ας μην τους είχα δει ποτέ στην ζωή μου!!
5/5 στο δεύτερο μέρος της αγαπημένης τριλογίας...
ΥΓ: Το βιβλίο μπορεί να στέκεται και μόνο του εκτός τριλογίας, όπως και το πρώτο μέρος "Έκπτωτοι Άγγελοι".
Ο πάτερ Νταρκούρ θέλει να γράψει την βιογραφία του ιδιόρρυθμου Φράνσις Κόρνιςμε την βοήθεια του ανεψιού του Άρθουρ και της συζύγου του Μαρία Θεοτόκη. Από κει και μετά παίρνουν την σκυτάλη δυο άγγελοι -ή μήπως δαίμονες-, ο Ήσσων Ζαδκιήλ ο Άγγελος της βιογραφίας και ο Δαίμων Μαιμάς ο προστάτης άγγελος του Φράνσις.
Μέσω των συζητήσεων τους λοιπόν μαθαίνουμε τα πάντα για τον εκκεντρικό κύριο Κόρνις, τα πάντα από την γέννηση μέχρι τον θάνατο του. Οι δυο άγγελοι εξιστορούν με λεπτομέρειες πως σφυρηλατήθηκε η προσωπικότητα του Φράνσις, τους έρωτες του, τις απογοητεύσεις του και τα μεγάλα διλήμματα που κλήθηκε να αντιμετωπίσει.
Ο Φράνσις Κόρνις έζησε μια ζωή γεμάτη προσπαθώντας να διαχωρίσει το καλό από το κακό, το νέο από παλιό, την αγάπη από τον έρωτα. Αγάπησε την τέχνη αλλά και το χρήμα. Κάτι όμως ήταν βαθειά ριζωμένο μέσα στην καρδιά του. Τι ακριβώς ήταν αυτό;
Απολαυστική η γραφή του Ντέιβις για άλλη μια φορά. Αναφορές στην τέχνη, συνεχείς ανατροπές και κριτική στον καλλιτεχνικό κόσμο.
Αρκετές φορές βέβαια ο Καναδός συγγραφέας πύκνωνε το γράψιμο του με αποτέλεσμα οι σελίδες να κυλάνε πολύ αργά, χωρίς όμως το βιβλίο να χάνει το ενδιαφέρον του.
Τέλος οι αναφορές του Ντέβις σε πίνακες ζωγραφικής και οι περιγραφές του με έκαναν να πιστεύω πως είχα τους πίνακες μπρος μου και ας μην τους είχα δει ποτέ στην ζωή μου!!
5/5 στο δεύτερο μέρος της αγαπημένης τριλογίας...
ΥΓ: Το βιβλίο μπορεί να στέκεται και μόνο του εκτός τριλογίας, όπως και το πρώτο μέρος "Έκπτωτοι Άγγελοι".
April 21, 2022
The (Mostly) Dead Writers Society Author in Residence program 2022
I really didn't mean to revisit this novel, even though Robertson Davies is one of our featured authors for the second quarter of 2022. I have read it a number of times and I have enjoyed it every time. I found myself unable to resist its siren song.
Earlier this month, I read a biography of RD, which has given me another dimension of appreciation for this work. The author’s youth in several small communities provided many of the details of Francis Cornish's school experience (and having listened to my father's stories of one room schools in rural Alberta back in the day, I can verify many of the brutal details). Certainly the religiosity of early 20th century Canadian society is undeniable and the lack of adherence to those religious ideals, not to mention the cultural pecking order.
RD was also working on this novel at the same time as one of his biographies was being researched and written. Apparently, he despised the experience, hating the lack of control. No wonder he stymies Simon Darcourt in his researching of Cornish's life, something that he no doubt wished he could do to his biographer (and to some extent managed through being an uncooperative interview subject).
There are 3 novels of Davies that I have yet to read, but I cannot imagine that they are better than this one. Time and their reading will surely tell.
Previous Review
It is always a wonderful experience to re-read What's Bred in the Bone. Although I have not read Davies' entire oevre, I certainly declare this to be his best novel of those I have read, possibly of all of them. It so masterfully brings together all the themes that he has played with in fiction over his writing life (which, according to him, could not begin while his parents were alive).
Francis Cornish, whose life tale this is, is a loveable scoundrel--sometimes more loveable, sometimes more scoundrel. Life circumstances shape the person--and Davies' explores the life of Francis' ancestors before he digs into the meat of the novel, Francis' own life.
Davies uses the recording angel, Zadkiel and Francis' personal daimon to tell the tale, thereby being able to record the subject's interior as well as exterior circumstances. Francis must wade through the morass of religion and social training to find out who Francis Cornish really is, and he succeeds admirably--only to find out that he cannot use the knowledge in the real world without revealing one of his scoundrelly periods.
Davies, as always, produces wonderfully memorable characters and explores art and intellectualism with good humour and irreverence
If you are at all interested in art, in university life, in psychology, in nature and nurture, or have a lively interest in the human being and what makes each person into the persona that they have become, you won't be able to put this lovely book down.
I really didn't mean to revisit this novel, even though Robertson Davies is one of our featured authors for the second quarter of 2022. I have read it a number of times and I have enjoyed it every time. I found myself unable to resist its siren song.
Earlier this month, I read a biography of RD, which has given me another dimension of appreciation for this work. The author’s youth in several small communities provided many of the details of Francis Cornish's school experience (and having listened to my father's stories of one room schools in rural Alberta back in the day, I can verify many of the brutal details). Certainly the religiosity of early 20th century Canadian society is undeniable and the lack of adherence to those religious ideals, not to mention the cultural pecking order.
RD was also working on this novel at the same time as one of his biographies was being researched and written. Apparently, he despised the experience, hating the lack of control. No wonder he stymies Simon Darcourt in his researching of Cornish's life, something that he no doubt wished he could do to his biographer (and to some extent managed through being an uncooperative interview subject).
There are 3 novels of Davies that I have yet to read, but I cannot imagine that they are better than this one. Time and their reading will surely tell.
Previous Review
It is always a wonderful experience to re-read What's Bred in the Bone. Although I have not read Davies' entire oevre, I certainly declare this to be his best novel of those I have read, possibly of all of them. It so masterfully brings together all the themes that he has played with in fiction over his writing life (which, according to him, could not begin while his parents were alive).
Francis Cornish, whose life tale this is, is a loveable scoundrel--sometimes more loveable, sometimes more scoundrel. Life circumstances shape the person--and Davies' explores the life of Francis' ancestors before he digs into the meat of the novel, Francis' own life.
Davies uses the recording angel, Zadkiel and Francis' personal daimon to tell the tale, thereby being able to record the subject's interior as well as exterior circumstances. Francis must wade through the morass of religion and social training to find out who Francis Cornish really is, and he succeeds admirably--only to find out that he cannot use the knowledge in the real world without revealing one of his scoundrelly periods.
Davies, as always, produces wonderfully memorable characters and explores art and intellectualism with good humour and irreverence
If you are at all interested in art, in university life, in psychology, in nature and nurture, or have a lively interest in the human being and what makes each person into the persona that they have become, you won't be able to put this lovely book down.
September 24, 2020
Some churlish sot who goes by my name awarded this book 4 stars ten days ago, without adding a review, and I am here today to correct both of those glaring errors, cos though 20C realism is not my usual thing, I absolutely loved this book and think it among Davies' very best.
All of our Man of Letters' usual ingredients (small town Canuck origins, a Jungian concern with and respect for the mythological side of religion* , a deep love of learning in general and of the arcane in particular, a Rabelaisian wit tempered by Scots Calvinist propriety, a profound sense of wonder and compassion over human suffering**…) are tossed into his alchemical crucible here, and before you can second-guess or "as-if" the plot or play spot-the-seams, pure artistic gold emerges and you have to thank Mr. Davies for braving the unimpeded visitation of his muse so comparatively late in his career—as you do get the feeling that this book came at some personal cost to the author, unlike, say, its immediate forerunner, The Rebel Angels, which felt more like a paint-by-numbers exercise to this reader…
One quibble: this book is a frame-narrative-with-a-twist, in that characters pop in from that aforementioned first installment in the trilogy: theologian Simon Darcourt is attempting to write a biography of the art collector Francis Cornish, and discusses his problems in doing so with Cornish's nephew and his young wife Maria, and since they were all in that previous book, one might expect something of their story to invade this one, but no: they disappear for 98% of the book and re-emerge just as the book closes. Instead, we have a real omniscient narrator, an honest-to-goodness Daimon, tell Cornish's story to a minor angel compadre—not just for kicks, it seems, because before he disappears, though, Darcourt makes an all-too-human biographer's confession:
I think that while the Daimon bit might put some people off, as a bit of unnecessary scaffolding, it does bring to the forefront one of Davies' chief concerns in this book: what is the (post)modern artist to do, after Joyce and Beckett, etc., have always-already done it all?! Do we just follow the market and act like 19C realism is perfectly fine once more, that all modes of writing have been made available to us by the Post-Modern theorists' destruction of capital-H Histories, including literary history?
That is a long and contentious debate, and Davies chooses not to contribute to it, except to say that the artist must do what the artist is best at, and damn the consequences. We not only dance with them that brung us, it seems, but we gots to embrace, not merely accept, our Masters', our Muse's, and our own limitations.
A deeper (again, anachronistic?! Or trans-historical?) concern is that art must plumb the "depths" of the human condition. It is not merely an exercise of the intellect, but an attempt at unifying our faculties and at expressing something about the totality of lived experience. One painting in particular exercises our main character in this regard, and I shall leave you with that, unless you wish to see what Cornish and his Master have to say about it in the spoiler which follows the much more reticent art work, Bronzino's Venus and Cupid….
All of our Man of Letters' usual ingredients (small town Canuck origins, a Jungian concern with and respect for the mythological side of religion* , a deep love of learning in general and of the arcane in particular, a Rabelaisian wit tempered by Scots Calvinist propriety, a profound sense of wonder and compassion over human suffering**…) are tossed into his alchemical crucible here, and before you can second-guess or "as-if" the plot or play spot-the-seams, pure artistic gold emerges and you have to thank Mr. Davies for braving the unimpeded visitation of his muse so comparatively late in his career—as you do get the feeling that this book came at some personal cost to the author, unlike, say, its immediate forerunner, The Rebel Angels, which felt more like a paint-by-numbers exercise to this reader…
One quibble: this book is a frame-narrative-with-a-twist, in that characters pop in from that aforementioned first installment in the trilogy: theologian Simon Darcourt is attempting to write a biography of the art collector Francis Cornish, and discusses his problems in doing so with Cornish's nephew and his young wife Maria, and since they were all in that previous book, one might expect something of their story to invade this one, but no: they disappear for 98% of the book and re-emerge just as the book closes. Instead, we have a real omniscient narrator, an honest-to-goodness Daimon, tell Cornish's story to a minor angel compadre—not just for kicks, it seems, because before he disappears, though, Darcourt makes an all-too-human biographer's confession:
Of course, I could fake it. Oh, I wish I had the indecency of so many biographers and dared to fake it! Not crude faking, of course, but a kind of fiction, the sort of fiction that rises to the level of art! And it would be true, you know, in its way. You remember what Browning says:
… Art remains the one way possible
Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine, at least.
I could serve Francis so much better if I had the freedom of fiction.”
“Oh, Simon, you don’t have to tell me that you are an artist at heart.”
“But an artist chained to biography, which ought to bear some resemblance to fact.”
“A matter of moral conscience.”
“And a matter of social conscience, as well. But what about artistic conscience, which people don’t usually pay much attention to? I want to write a really good book. Not just a trustworthy book, but a book people will like to read. Everybody has a dominant kind of conscience, and in me the artistic conscience seems to be pushing the other two aside. Do you know what I really think?”
“No, but you obviously want to tell me.”
“I think that probably Francis had a daimon…."
I think that while the Daimon bit might put some people off, as a bit of unnecessary scaffolding, it does bring to the forefront one of Davies' chief concerns in this book: what is the (post)modern artist to do, after Joyce and Beckett, etc., have always-already done it all?! Do we just follow the market and act like 19C realism is perfectly fine once more, that all modes of writing have been made available to us by the Post-Modern theorists' destruction of capital-H Histories, including literary history?
That is a long and contentious debate, and Davies chooses not to contribute to it, except to say that the artist must do what the artist is best at, and damn the consequences. We not only dance with them that brung us, it seems, but we gots to embrace, not merely accept, our Masters', our Muse's, and our own limitations.
A deeper (again, anachronistic?! Or trans-historical?) concern is that art must plumb the "depths" of the human condition. It is not merely an exercise of the intellect, but an attempt at unifying our faculties and at expressing something about the totality of lived experience. One painting in particular exercises our main character in this regard, and I shall leave you with that, unless you wish to see what Cornish and his Master have to say about it in the spoiler which follows the much more reticent art work, Bronzino's Venus and Cupid….
February 18, 2013
An artist friend gave this book to me, years ago when we were both in school. He didn't tell me anything about it, but since I liked him and his art work, I gave the book a try and went on to be a huge fan of the author, searching out everything I could find by him to read over the years. Being an artist myself, and painting in a rather traditional manner like the protagonist, it was bracing to read Davies' account of an artist who felt out of step in a Modern era -- much like I did, trying to make my way doing representational, non-ironic art in an era of Derrida and Beaudrillard.
I loved this book and identified with the aspirations of the Cornish character. In the years since then, as I've found myself teaching art students who remind me of the way I felt when I was their age myself, I have given copies of this book to the most starry eyed ones, and their reactions have been like my own were when the book was given to me.
After reading one of Davies' later books it struck me that it might be the last novel the now elderly writer would give us, so I did something rare for me to do, which was to write and send him a fan letter, thanking him for all the many hours of pleasure his work had given me, and, by the way, enclosed some photos of my own work. To my surprise and delight I received a hand typed letter from the grand old man, whose comments on my own work remains one of my most prized possessions, as he wrote apropos my own paintings:
“You seem to combine an admirable lucidity of manner with a deep and thought-provoking content. As this is rather the kind of thing I seek in my own work of course it appealed to me strongly. I haven’t much patience with artists of any kind who seek to baffle and bamboozle the public; what needs to be said is hard enough to comprehend without having needless difficulties put in the way. . .”
I loved this book and identified with the aspirations of the Cornish character. In the years since then, as I've found myself teaching art students who remind me of the way I felt when I was their age myself, I have given copies of this book to the most starry eyed ones, and their reactions have been like my own were when the book was given to me.
After reading one of Davies' later books it struck me that it might be the last novel the now elderly writer would give us, so I did something rare for me to do, which was to write and send him a fan letter, thanking him for all the many hours of pleasure his work had given me, and, by the way, enclosed some photos of my own work. To my surprise and delight I received a hand typed letter from the grand old man, whose comments on my own work remains one of my most prized possessions, as he wrote apropos my own paintings:
“You seem to combine an admirable lucidity of manner with a deep and thought-provoking content. As this is rather the kind of thing I seek in my own work of course it appealed to me strongly. I haven’t much patience with artists of any kind who seek to baffle and bamboozle the public; what needs to be said is hard enough to comprehend without having needless difficulties put in the way. . .”
January 27, 2013
What's Bred in the Bone by Robertson Davies is my favourite novel. It is the second in the otherwise unremarkable Cornish trilogy and details the life of the second Francis Cornish from birth to death, including a confusing religious upbringing by everyone but his parents in a rural Ontario town, his education from 'Spook' to Oxford, his apprenticeship in art fraud to cheat the Nazis and his secret life as a spy. Along the way, Cornish 'assassinates' an art faker as it takes one to know one, falls for the wrong girl and paints the perfect parable of his own life but it is never attributed to him until after his death.
Robertson's narrators are an angel and a daimon who offer insights into Cornish's character and its development. You might think this device would grow old quickly but it offers a fine counterpoint to each chapter. They explain how each turn of events–positive and negative–helps shape and refine Francis Cornish' character. Davies' characters are so beautifully defined. Who could forget Tancred Saraceni, Zadok Hoyle, Prince Max, Francis Cornish the first and Aunt Mary-Ben? Highly recommended.
Robertson's narrators are an angel and a daimon who offer insights into Cornish's character and its development. You might think this device would grow old quickly but it offers a fine counterpoint to each chapter. They explain how each turn of events–positive and negative–helps shape and refine Francis Cornish' character. Davies' characters are so beautifully defined. Who could forget Tancred Saraceni, Zadok Hoyle, Prince Max, Francis Cornish the first and Aunt Mary-Ben? Highly recommended.
March 19, 2021
What's Bred in the Bone is the second of a trilogy of books which are bound together by the life of one Francis Cornish, Canadian artist, critic, and collector, and by a host of other characters who are tied to him in one way or another. This book tells Cornish's life story, starting from a conversation between his heirs and his biographer and featuring interjections from a pair of supernatural beings, the Lesser Zadkiel (the Angel of Biography) and Maimon, Francis's personal daimon. The daimons provide interesting analysis of Francis's life along the way, as well as inspiring thought about the nature of free will, whether one controls one's own life or whether it's truly shaped by outside forces and by "what's bred in the bone", a phrase that comes up often.
What's Bred in the Bone is sandwiched in between The Rebel Angels and The Lyre of Orpheus, which take place after Cornish has died, in the environs of a fictional Canadian university. In The Rebel Angels, his executors are trying to sort his immense collection, while graduate student Maria Theotoky, assistant to one of the executors, tries to deal with the obnoxious ex-monk Parlabane; academic mayhem ensues. In The Lyre of Orpheus, the Cornish Foundation for the arts has been established, and the board members decide to mount a production of an unfinished opera by E.T.A. Hoffmann; artistic mayhem ensues. They're both good (though The Lyre of Orpheus is a little scattered) and very much worth reading, but I definitely think What's Bred in the Bone is the standout of the three. All are full to the brim of drama and intrigue, vivid characters (though Maria is a little Maria-Sue-ish, really), and Davies' erudite, witty writing.
What's Bred in the Bone is sandwiched in between The Rebel Angels and The Lyre of Orpheus, which take place after Cornish has died, in the environs of a fictional Canadian university. In The Rebel Angels, his executors are trying to sort his immense collection, while graduate student Maria Theotoky, assistant to one of the executors, tries to deal with the obnoxious ex-monk Parlabane; academic mayhem ensues. In The Lyre of Orpheus, the Cornish Foundation for the arts has been established, and the board members decide to mount a production of an unfinished opera by E.T.A. Hoffmann; artistic mayhem ensues. They're both good (though The Lyre of Orpheus is a little scattered) and very much worth reading, but I definitely think What's Bred in the Bone is the standout of the three. All are full to the brim of drama and intrigue, vivid characters (though Maria is a little Maria-Sue-ish, really), and Davies' erudite, witty writing.
March 3, 2008
Had this one on my shelves for so long I thought I'd already read it. But, nope. It's the story of a half-provincial half-royal kid from Canada who is raised by a Catholic aunt and learns to draw in the local funeral home, then turns to Renaissance painting in the face of his family's craziness during WWII. Funny and intriguing all the way through. Must read more Robertson Davies.
December 13, 2020
December, 2020:
As hard as these things are to say with certainty, I've thought for a while that What's Bred in the Bone could be my favorite book. This recent rereading confirms that it's certainly in play. As I read, I tried to reflect why, of all books, I like this one so much. In addition to what I've said below, I believe it's because Davies, more than most, understands the value of non-intellectual experience in life: fate, luck, intuition, emotion, and maybe even divine intervention are the touchtones of the world he's created.
Also worth noting for this reading: This was the first time I'd read What's Bred in the Bone coming right off of the first book in the Cornish Trilogy, The Rebel Angels. There were some shared themes that gave a little texture to the story, but on the whole, book one was much weaker and didn't enhance my experience significantly. I'd recommend What's Bred in the Bone as a standalone novel to anyone without reservation.
*******************
October, 2018:
Robertson Davies has the uncanny ability to convince you that not only does he understand the deepest mysteries of human existence, but that you might understand them a little bit too. I came back to this book particularly because I wanted to regain a little bit of that feeling in relation to art, particularly Renaissance painting. The novel works on a practical level, describing techniques and motifs, but also a spiritual level, delving into the ways that religion can have meaning through art, without getting bogged down by dogma or literalism. Not to mention it's simply a great book in every way: well-plotted, funny, wise, vivid -- sheer perfection!
*******************
May, 2014:
What's Bred in the Bone is the most focused and the best book in this trilogy. In telling the story of Francis Cornish, Davies revisits one of his favorite themes -- the way childhood experiences can shape a life. Davies captures the exhilaration of formative experiences, but also vividly brings out how childhood can be confusing and even terrifying. And he makes the excellent point that adults don't necessary make things better by trying to shield a child from life's realities. There's also some great exploration here of the philosophy of art and what it means to make an authentic work.
As hard as these things are to say with certainty, I've thought for a while that What's Bred in the Bone could be my favorite book. This recent rereading confirms that it's certainly in play. As I read, I tried to reflect why, of all books, I like this one so much. In addition to what I've said below, I believe it's because Davies, more than most, understands the value of non-intellectual experience in life: fate, luck, intuition, emotion, and maybe even divine intervention are the touchtones of the world he's created.
Also worth noting for this reading: This was the first time I'd read What's Bred in the Bone coming right off of the first book in the Cornish Trilogy, The Rebel Angels. There were some shared themes that gave a little texture to the story, but on the whole, book one was much weaker and didn't enhance my experience significantly. I'd recommend What's Bred in the Bone as a standalone novel to anyone without reservation.
*******************
October, 2018:
Robertson Davies has the uncanny ability to convince you that not only does he understand the deepest mysteries of human existence, but that you might understand them a little bit too. I came back to this book particularly because I wanted to regain a little bit of that feeling in relation to art, particularly Renaissance painting. The novel works on a practical level, describing techniques and motifs, but also a spiritual level, delving into the ways that religion can have meaning through art, without getting bogged down by dogma or literalism. Not to mention it's simply a great book in every way: well-plotted, funny, wise, vivid -- sheer perfection!
*******************
May, 2014:
What's Bred in the Bone is the most focused and the best book in this trilogy. In telling the story of Francis Cornish, Davies revisits one of his favorite themes -- the way childhood experiences can shape a life. Davies captures the exhilaration of formative experiences, but also vividly brings out how childhood can be confusing and even terrifying. And he makes the excellent point that adults don't necessary make things better by trying to shield a child from life's realities. There's also some great exploration here of the philosophy of art and what it means to make an authentic work.
October 13, 2017
La primera novela de la Trilogía de Cornish, 'Ángeles rebeldes', giraba en torno a la figura de Francis Cornish, millonario y benefactor de artistas, o más bien a su legado y todas las batallas por hacerse con él. 'Lo que arraiga en el hueso', segunda novela de dicha trilogía, trata justamente de la vida y milagros de tan enigmático personaje, desde su gestación hasta su muerte, pasando por su infancia, muy significativa para él y parte importante dentro del libro (de ahí el título, ya que "Lo que arraiga en el hueso aflora en la carne"), como pasando también por toda su vida adulta, en la que fue desde falsificador hasta espía.
El libro está magníficamente escrito, como es habitual en tan gran escritor como fue Robertson Davies, pero no me ha gustado tanto como 'Ángeles rebeldes', he echado en falta ese humor que caracterizaba este último. Eso sí, sigue habiendo momentos de gran ironía y sutileza. Tal vez no me ha llegado tanto porque no aparecen, salvo en el primer capítulo, los personajes que me atrajeron en la primera novela. Aun así, es un libro magnífico y muy recomendable.
El libro está magníficamente escrito, como es habitual en tan gran escritor como fue Robertson Davies, pero no me ha gustado tanto como 'Ángeles rebeldes', he echado en falta ese humor que caracterizaba este último. Eso sí, sigue habiendo momentos de gran ironía y sutileza. Tal vez no me ha llegado tanto porque no aparecen, salvo en el primer capítulo, los personajes que me atrajeron en la primera novela. Aun así, es un libro magnífico y muy recomendable.
November 16, 2020
Robertson Davies es un escritor canadiense, cuyas novelas generalmente son parte de una trilogía, este libro es parte de la llamada trilogía Cornish, y se puede leer sin haber leído los otros dos. Es un escritor que se encuentra entre mis favoritos por ese talento que le permite crear ambientes únicos.
Se habla de Francis Cornish, un mecenas de arte que acaba de morir y dejó una estela de obras, dinero y misterio alrededor de su persona. A lo,largo del libro se revela todo, a través de un relato hecho por un narrador extraordinario, el Daimon de Francis.
La historia te atrapa desde un inicio, empezamos conociendo a los abuelos de Francis, y de ahí de manera detallada, lenta pero persistente se va construyendo todo esos acontecimientos que forjan a una persona para bien o para mal.
Las referencias a la religión son imprescindibles en un libro que gira en torno a la pintura, se logra construir un ambiente académico - artístico, lleno de intrigas, vanidades, dinero y trabajo.
Logra trasmitir esa interrogante constante, ¿somos libres de crear nuestro propio camino o el destino ya está trazado?, y como la pregunta no es fácil, la respuesta tampoco lo es.
Aunque este ámbito artístico es bastante interesante y lleno de referencias, no llega a pecar de aburrido, sino al contrario, los personajes que se presentan alrededor del protagonista son tan únicos, que crean un interés que no decae, inclusive existen notas de humor, sobre todo al hecho de que Francis es heredero de un patrimonio que lo hace ser rico, y en todos los trabajos que le ofrecen, pregunta si le van a pagar, y todos le dicen que no, pues no necesita un sueldo.
Un libro que recomiendo mucho, y que me motiva a terminar la trilogía.
Se habla de Francis Cornish, un mecenas de arte que acaba de morir y dejó una estela de obras, dinero y misterio alrededor de su persona. A lo,largo del libro se revela todo, a través de un relato hecho por un narrador extraordinario, el Daimon de Francis.
La historia te atrapa desde un inicio, empezamos conociendo a los abuelos de Francis, y de ahí de manera detallada, lenta pero persistente se va construyendo todo esos acontecimientos que forjan a una persona para bien o para mal.
Las referencias a la religión son imprescindibles en un libro que gira en torno a la pintura, se logra construir un ambiente académico - artístico, lleno de intrigas, vanidades, dinero y trabajo.
Logra trasmitir esa interrogante constante, ¿somos libres de crear nuestro propio camino o el destino ya está trazado?, y como la pregunta no es fácil, la respuesta tampoco lo es.
Aunque este ámbito artístico es bastante interesante y lleno de referencias, no llega a pecar de aburrido, sino al contrario, los personajes que se presentan alrededor del protagonista son tan únicos, que crean un interés que no decae, inclusive existen notas de humor, sobre todo al hecho de que Francis es heredero de un patrimonio que lo hace ser rico, y en todos los trabajos que le ofrecen, pregunta si le van a pagar, y todos le dicen que no, pues no necesita un sueldo.
Un libro que recomiendo mucho, y que me motiva a terminar la trilogía.
November 18, 2014
The other Robertson Davies I tried to read was The Cunning Man and I had to abort. It just wasn't serving my needs. This one was better. In fact, at the end of the book I liked it better, much better, than at the beginning. The novel began to get interesting for me at about the three-quarters mark. Up to that point there was too much quirk, and meandering, for my taste. Quirky books should bear a sticker, like the Oprah book club sticker but for quirk, so I know to stay away from them.
At the end, everything came together nicely with the description of Francis' painting The Marriage at Cana. So, points to the author for that. But in the sense that this is a biography, which it is, it was kind of odd that on one page Francis was 33, and then a few pages later he was in his 70s or 80s and dying.
In tone and/or style and/or genre, this book reminds me of:
Freddy and Fredericka
Anglo-Saxon Attitudes
Quinn's Book
April 12, 2017
L'érudit auteur canadien Robertson Davies nous raconte la vie imprévisible de Francis Cornish. Un canadien né dans un petit village perdu à 100 km d'Ottawa qui, après plusieurs rebondissements, va parfaire ses études à Oxford. Le déménagement en Angleterre, avant la deuxième guerre mondiale, de ce passionné pour les arts visuels l'amènera lentement au cours de sa vie dans une série de situations et de contextes que le lecteur ne pouvait prévoir. Sans en dire plus, pour ne pas diminuer l'intérêt et voler le "punch", cette fiction-biographie nous amène, en début de roman, à réfléchir sur l'obscurantisme du début des années 1900 volontairement imposé par cette Église catholique subjective et possessive. Plus tard au cours du récit, c'est l'art qui prend toute sa place et qui nous met à réfléchir sur son principe de création, sous l'origine de sa pulsion, de son inspiration et de tout le marché qui gravite autour. Un peu comme avait provoqué chez moi la lecture de "Portrait de Dorian Gray". Tout ça en suivant une trame solide qui se tient tout d'un bout, de l'espion, au faussaire, au millionnaire, collectionneur, mécène et aux mésaventures amoureuses. Rôles et vie de Francis Cornish. Davies a le don de nous amener partout où il veut, de nous garder en haleine, même si ce n'est pas un auteur de thriller. À découvrir.
December 21, 2009
A perfectly nice and entertaining literary work, but definitely not Canadian the way I understand it. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he is British, and very much imperial British. He represents everything one associates with colonial times in Canada: white, male, comfortably well-off, elitist, and monarchist. His writing is very accessible, definitely not post-modern, much more in the "by-gone" 19th century style. He draws exclusively on European tradition and good solid knowledge of Classics: Greek, Celtic myths, Jung and Freud, the Bible, great works of English poetry. Great discussions on art, but …the only really Canadian piece of art he mentions is the painter Lawren Harris, who really captures the “Canadianess”, and to whom and “The Group of Seven” Robertson ironically refers to on page 331:“Cornish, you can go back to your frozen country, with its frozen art and paint winter lakes and wind-blown pine trees.” Well defined, by the way. Anyway, a nice piece of English literature, but definitely not something I expected.
September 18, 2021
I read this ages ago, before goodreads. I don't remember much, but I loved it at the time. Imaginative, unusual, weird.
Read
March 1, 2018Many of the same concerns as The Recognitions, but with a distinctly Canadian flavour. What is “genuine”? What is “forged”?
August 11, 2014
I first read What's Bred In the Bone 25 or so years ago and the only things that I remembered from it were: Francis Cornish sketching at the autopsy of the dwarf tailor; the Drollig Hansel; and the huge triptych of The Marriage at Cana. I only remembered the art: and while this book is certainly about art, it is more about those lucky few who are able to access the deep well of common experience -- the Collective Unconscious -- and drag forth images to interpret and present as their own; it's about artists, whether painters or writers, and their efforts to grasp and personalise the universal.
What's Bred In the Bone picks up a few years after the timeframe of The Rebel Angels : Simon Darcourt is explaining to Arthur and Maria Cornish that he has hit a roadblock in his efforts to write a biography of Arthur's late uncle, Francis. There is very little information to be found on the great man, and what there is has a whiff of scandal (Perhaps some art forgery? Perhaps some homosexuality?). As the three debate whether or not the biography should be pursued, the point of view shifts to that of two mythological creatures with an interest in the matter: the Lesser Zadkiel ( the angel who interfered when Abraham was about to sacrifice Isaac, so he is an angel of mercy, though a lot of biographers aren't), who has recorded all of the events of Francis Cornish's life, and the Daimon Maimas (a type of creative spirit assigned to very few humans who, in this case, presented his charge with many difficulties because A happy childhood has spoiled many a promising life). These two then review Francis' life, starting with the histories of his grandparents and then parents because, after all, what's bred in the bone will not out of the flesh.
After reading Robertson Davies A Portrait in Mosaic, I could recognise that Davies gave Cornish a biography similar to his own. Both were raised in wealthy homes set in coarse, remote Ontario towns ("Jumping-Off" places where the residents are sewn into their longjohns for the winter, presumably not bathing again 'til Spring), were sent to a snooty boys' boarding school, attended a respectable Toronto University, and then took a degree at Oxford. But while Davies retreated back home as WWII loomed, Cornish pursued his art studies in Bavaria (and spent his evenings counting the cattle cars that made their way to the local concentration camp). Through Cornish's failed efforts to adapt his outmoded artistic tastes for modern audiences, I got the sense that Davies was describing his own literary efforts. In a way, this is an old-fashioned book and a lament for an earlier time; one richer in myth and legend.
Like The Rebels Angels, this was a book of dichotomies: Cornish attempted to reconcile the male with the female; the "normal" with the "grotesque"; New Money and Old Money; the New World and the Old World; Old Masters and New Masters; Catholics with Protestants; and wanting to be a benefactor but loving his money a bit too much. There are layers of symbols -- from the obvious iconography of paintings new and old to the quest for the three aspects of womanhood -- and the occult looms large through astrology and alchemy. Once again, it is always amazing to me to read a Davies book that is crammed full of unfamiliar information and situations, yet never feel confused or patronised. And, of course, I love the Canadian bits:
I watched the movie Pan's Labyrinth the other day and it was a good companion piece for this book: aside from the Communists fighting the Fascists in Franco's Spain (which two characters in this book run off to do), it's a movie rich in allegory; a deep meditation on the protective power of myth and storytelling. Of course, it also reminded me of The Monuments Men and could just see Cornish taking his place beside George Clooney in the repatriation of looted art.
What's Bred In the Bone picks up a few years after the timeframe of The Rebel Angels : Simon Darcourt is explaining to Arthur and Maria Cornish that he has hit a roadblock in his efforts to write a biography of Arthur's late uncle, Francis. There is very little information to be found on the great man, and what there is has a whiff of scandal (Perhaps some art forgery? Perhaps some homosexuality?). As the three debate whether or not the biography should be pursued, the point of view shifts to that of two mythological creatures with an interest in the matter: the Lesser Zadkiel ( the angel who interfered when Abraham was about to sacrifice Isaac, so he is an angel of mercy, though a lot of biographers aren't), who has recorded all of the events of Francis Cornish's life, and the Daimon Maimas (a type of creative spirit assigned to very few humans who, in this case, presented his charge with many difficulties because A happy childhood has spoiled many a promising life). These two then review Francis' life, starting with the histories of his grandparents and then parents because, after all, what's bred in the bone will not out of the flesh.
After reading Robertson Davies A Portrait in Mosaic, I could recognise that Davies gave Cornish a biography similar to his own. Both were raised in wealthy homes set in coarse, remote Ontario towns ("Jumping-Off" places where the residents are sewn into their longjohns for the winter, presumably not bathing again 'til Spring), were sent to a snooty boys' boarding school, attended a respectable Toronto University, and then took a degree at Oxford. But while Davies retreated back home as WWII loomed, Cornish pursued his art studies in Bavaria (and spent his evenings counting the cattle cars that made their way to the local concentration camp). Through Cornish's failed efforts to adapt his outmoded artistic tastes for modern audiences, I got the sense that Davies was describing his own literary efforts. In a way, this is an old-fashioned book and a lament for an earlier time; one richer in myth and legend.
Science is the theology of our time, and like the old theology it's a muddle of conflicting assertions… It's the most overweening, pompous priesthood mankind has ever endured in all its recorded history, and its lack of symbol and metaphor and its zeal for abstraction drive mankind to a barren land of starved imagination.
Like The Rebels Angels, this was a book of dichotomies: Cornish attempted to reconcile the male with the female; the "normal" with the "grotesque"; New Money and Old Money; the New World and the Old World; Old Masters and New Masters; Catholics with Protestants; and wanting to be a benefactor but loving his money a bit too much. There are layers of symbols -- from the obvious iconography of paintings new and old to the quest for the three aspects of womanhood -- and the occult looms large through astrology and alchemy. Once again, it is always amazing to me to read a Davies book that is crammed full of unfamiliar information and situations, yet never feel confused or patronised. And, of course, I love the Canadian bits:
Sorry, sorry, sorry! Of course you're a Canadian. Do you know what that is? A psychological mess. For a lot of good reasons, including some planetary influences, Canada is an introverted country straining like hell to behave like an extravert. Wake up! Be yourself, not a bad copy of something else!
I watched the movie Pan's Labyrinth the other day and it was a good companion piece for this book: aside from the Communists fighting the Fascists in Franco's Spain (which two characters in this book run off to do), it's a movie rich in allegory; a deep meditation on the protective power of myth and storytelling. Of course, it also reminded me of The Monuments Men and could just see Cornish taking his place beside George Clooney in the repatriation of looted art.
May 18, 2021
I'm not usually one for sweeping life stories, but boy was this good. Funny and satisfying with a good balance between plot and discussions of art/religion/philosophy/history. The passages between the Lesser Angel Zadkiel and the Daimon Maimas were my favourite to read, and I would sometimes read them twice just for the fun of it. And best of all was hearing what Robertson Davies thought of Canada and its (small and out-of-place yet interesting) role in the twentieth century. There was truly never a dull moment, I loved it.
January 2, 2022
Segunda parte de la trilogia Cornish (que se puede leerle independientemente), narra la vida de Francis Cornish y además es un auténtico ensayo de arte y es una maravilla, tanto como está tejida la historia por como está contada. Un auténtico deleite
August 12, 2015
La primera de las novelas que componen la trilogía de Cornish, Ángeles Rebeldes, dejó el listón de la excelencia literaria a una altura considerable. La lectura de Lo que arraiga en el hueso, arranca con tal expectativa que inevitablemente conduce a una cierta decepción, sobre todo si funcionan los mecanismos de la comparación.
El planteamiento resulta atractivo: la historia de Francis Cornish contada por sus dos Ángeles o Daimones particulares, Zadkiel y Maimas, encargados de guiar sus pasos desde su nacimiento. La historia de la llegada al mundo del pequeño Francis, su infancia, adolescencia y juventud está llena de pequeños hechos decisivos y personajes tan bien construidos como suele hacer Davies, especialmente el cochero Zadok, que ejerce más influencia en el Francis adolescente y aprendiz de pintor, que su padre auténtico. Con la llegada a la madurez del joven Cornish, la novela lo hace también en la misma medida y adquiere grosor de gran obra. A destacar también el personaje de Saraceni, que en sus brillantes diálogos con Francis otorga a la obra una valiosa visión sobre el mundo del arte y los conceptos de autenticidad o falsificación que con el se relacionan. Igualmente valiosos los planteamientos que encontramos sobre el proceso creativo y la búsqueda de la verdad en el arte.
En la parte menos atractractiva, por innecesaria, los extrañas motivaciones que convierten al protagonista en un espía del MI5 (cual trama de James Bond), o bién algunos pasajes excesivamente extensos sobre el entorno del protagonista en su infáncia y adolescencia. Finalmente, se observa cierta precipitación en la forma en que se cierra la novela y se enlaza con Ángeles Rebeldes (primera novela de la trilogía de Cornish), ya que no debe olvidarse que Lo que arraiga en el hueso (segunda novela de la trilogía) es una precuela de aquella.
El planteamiento resulta atractivo: la historia de Francis Cornish contada por sus dos Ángeles o Daimones particulares, Zadkiel y Maimas, encargados de guiar sus pasos desde su nacimiento. La historia de la llegada al mundo del pequeño Francis, su infancia, adolescencia y juventud está llena de pequeños hechos decisivos y personajes tan bien construidos como suele hacer Davies, especialmente el cochero Zadok, que ejerce más influencia en el Francis adolescente y aprendiz de pintor, que su padre auténtico. Con la llegada a la madurez del joven Cornish, la novela lo hace también en la misma medida y adquiere grosor de gran obra. A destacar también el personaje de Saraceni, que en sus brillantes diálogos con Francis otorga a la obra una valiosa visión sobre el mundo del arte y los conceptos de autenticidad o falsificación que con el se relacionan. Igualmente valiosos los planteamientos que encontramos sobre el proceso creativo y la búsqueda de la verdad en el arte.
En la parte menos atractractiva, por innecesaria, los extrañas motivaciones que convierten al protagonista en un espía del MI5 (cual trama de James Bond), o bién algunos pasajes excesivamente extensos sobre el entorno del protagonista en su infáncia y adolescencia. Finalmente, se observa cierta precipitación en la forma en que se cierra la novela y se enlaza con Ángeles Rebeldes (primera novela de la trilogía de Cornish), ya que no debe olvidarse que Lo que arraiga en el hueso (segunda novela de la trilogía) es una precuela de aquella.
June 28, 2020
The story of a man's life as told by the Recording Angel and the daimon who were put in charge of shaping his life and his character. An interesting plot device that Robertson Davies used to full effect. The daimon believes that adversity is what makes us who we are and has no problem confronting the protagonist with one character building episode after another. The Recording Angel provides him with the occasional and necessary relief that we all need to carry on.
This book had me hooked early on. The author describes a minor character as "untroubled by intelligence". Such a classic Robertson Davies put-down.
Written in the mid eighties, there are some interesting ideas being explored here for that time. The main character's childhood desire to explore both his male and female sides, a concept that appears repeatedly throughout the book. His parents' open marriage, the value of money and its effect on relationships. The difficulty of relationships in general. Many fascinating topics are explored at length. My one criticism is that it might have been a shade long-winded. I felt that things could've been wrapped up at least 50 pages earlier, but I often think that about books.
Davies had a fascinating career. First, as a stage actor, then as a journalist and a publisher and a lecturer. Finally, and most important of all, as a novelist. He seemed to go from one strength to another and the main character in this novel can't help but remind me of him.
A four star read.
This book had me hooked early on. The author describes a minor character as "untroubled by intelligence". Such a classic Robertson Davies put-down.
Written in the mid eighties, there are some interesting ideas being explored here for that time. The main character's childhood desire to explore both his male and female sides, a concept that appears repeatedly throughout the book. His parents' open marriage, the value of money and its effect on relationships. The difficulty of relationships in general. Many fascinating topics are explored at length. My one criticism is that it might have been a shade long-winded. I felt that things could've been wrapped up at least 50 pages earlier, but I often think that about books.
Davies had a fascinating career. First, as a stage actor, then as a journalist and a publisher and a lecturer. Finally, and most important of all, as a novelist. He seemed to go from one strength to another and the main character in this novel can't help but remind me of him.
A four star read.
February 2, 2017
A reminder of the pleasures (and limitations) of Davies at his best. A light novel of ideas, with perhaps somewhat schematic characters, an un-convoluted and engaging plot, and a generous helping of authorial aperçus that do not attempt to hide their provenance (i.e., they aren't clanging and unconvincing ventriloquisms from the mouths of characters).
I say "light novel of ideas" rather than "novel of light ideas" because the themes at the heart of the book (belief and the construction of the self in modernity; the significance of art; the ambiguity separating truth, fraud, and interpretation) are not light, but are handled with a light touch.
There is of course occasion for some pronouncements of Davies' grumpy but avuncular conservatism, but these are always expressed with a certain knowing humility and humor (as opposed, e.g., to Kingsley Amis' more strident tone). In any case, these did not diminish my enjoyment of the novel, despite my location far to Davies' political left. Indeed, these observations invite a calm consideration of the wisdom of some conservative beliefs and an appreciation for the impulses behind them. Oh the quiet glory of a non-American conservative voice, freed from the lunacy of its benighted Yankee cousins.
This novel reminded me why I liked the other Davies novel I read, many years ago (Murther & Walking Spirits), and I'll be on the lookout for copies of others next time I'm in the used bookstore.
I say "light novel of ideas" rather than "novel of light ideas" because the themes at the heart of the book (belief and the construction of the self in modernity; the significance of art; the ambiguity separating truth, fraud, and interpretation) are not light, but are handled with a light touch.
There is of course occasion for some pronouncements of Davies' grumpy but avuncular conservatism, but these are always expressed with a certain knowing humility and humor (as opposed, e.g., to Kingsley Amis' more strident tone). In any case, these did not diminish my enjoyment of the novel, despite my location far to Davies' political left. Indeed, these observations invite a calm consideration of the wisdom of some conservative beliefs and an appreciation for the impulses behind them. Oh the quiet glory of a non-American conservative voice, freed from the lunacy of its benighted Yankee cousins.
This novel reminded me why I liked the other Davies novel I read, many years ago (Murther & Walking Spirits), and I'll be on the lookout for copies of others next time I'm in the used bookstore.
April 11, 2011
This was the first Davies book I ever read, during the Canadian Studies student phase of my life when all books were acquired by picking at random from the CanLit shelf at the used bookstore. I've since gone back and read the whole Cornish trilogy, and much as I love the rest of it I really never felt it was necessary for my development as a person to have read more than this book. Possibly because it's so structurally different from the other two, Bred in the Bone sticks out. Its focus holds together the two whirling, multi-character tales of (more than occasional) madness stacked on either side.
The thing I sometimes find off-putting about Davies is the occasional, none-to-subtle moralizing his characters like to indulge in. What's most refreshing about Bred in the Bone is here it's almost completely absent. It's biography with no apologies, with all of the rough edges celebrated.
Also, sometimes it makes me want to go to the National Gallery and try to forge paintings. I feel like that's really the best recommendation I can give it.
The thing I sometimes find off-putting about Davies is the occasional, none-to-subtle moralizing his characters like to indulge in. What's most refreshing about Bred in the Bone is here it's almost completely absent. It's biography with no apologies, with all of the rough edges celebrated.
Also, sometimes it makes me want to go to the National Gallery and try to forge paintings. I feel like that's really the best recommendation I can give it.
August 19, 2013
Gran novela de Davies, con su estilo lleno de humor y profundidad filosófica, nos introduce en el mundo de la restauración de cuadros, en la lucha encubierta dentro de la Segunda Guerra Mundial por el prestigio cultural al sevicio de la propaganda política, en la duplicidad moral y miserias intelectuales de los expertos de pintura, etc. Todo un mundo soterrado dentro de la gran cultura occidental, como nos tiene acostumbrados el autor en otras novelas, a la vez que ilustra al lector sobre la tensión entre la pintura moderna frente a la anterior al siglo XX. El personaje principal, un antihéroe de una pieza, parece que va dando tumbos por la vida, sin ser capaz de recapacitar sobre las consiecuencias de sus actos hasta casi el final de la misma. El relato de la infancia y adolescencia del personaje Francis Cornish y de las personas que poblaban su vida es magistral, de lo mejor que he leído.
August 23, 2012
Much as it pains me to rate this only 2 stars, especially when I love Robertson Davies so much and when most other people seem to really like this one, I just...well. This book bored the pants off of me. I didn't like the angels snickering in the sidelines about everything, and I didn't really much like the story-within-a-story framework of the novel. And I didn't find it anywhere near as humorous as Davies' other stuff. It just didn't work for me. But I hear the third book in the series is fantastic, so I'm still looking forward to reading that. I'm going to give myself a break first though, just to make sure the taste of this one is gone.
I'll probably give this another try someday though, because really? I'm mostly disappointed in myself. :(
I'll probably give this another try someday though, because really? I'm mostly disappointed in myself. :(
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