Rating: 
Summary: A lovely read
Review: This is usually considered Robertson Davies' masterpiece; I once heard Atom Egoyan (in an interview with NPR) describe "Fifth Business" as the Canadian Bible, "a holy book, and sacrilege to criticize." I for one don't actually get all the hype; and its ur-Jungian underpinnings utterly lose me. I do find "Fifth Business" enthralling as a story, though its philosophical and mythic resonances slip right past me. (Compare this to John Irving's "A Prayer For Owen Meaney," which it shares some resemblances.) "The Manticore" and "World of Wonders" similarly lose me, but I did appreciate Davies' flirtations with the fantastic, while remaining grounded in the entirely real.
Rating:
Summary: wonderful tale of growth
Review: This trilogy allows the reader to enter a fascinating world of personal pathologies, individual growth, and faith. While each charcter is limited in their own way, they come together late in life and make surprizing discoveries about themselves and about love. It is a peculiar mix of cynicism and a sincere tract in favor of psyhotherapy, with one of the best descriptions of a Jungian analysis available in fiction. But you also see the world of staged magic, grammar schools, and provincial Canada. Highly recommended, if a somewhat quirky world with unusual characters. And beautifully written.
Rating: 
Summary: Great story, and interesting novel of ideas
Review: This trilogy tells the story of three men, from a small village in Canada. One is a schoolmaster from an exclusive Canadian private school, another is a prominent Canadian politician, and the third is a famous magician. The first book is the schoolmaster's story, the second is the politician's as told by his son to a Jungian analyst, and the third is the story of the magician.There's a lot more here than just the story. You will learn a lot about Canada, saints, WWII, magic, theatre, heraldry, and Jungian pyschology. This book is densely and exquisitely woven. Be warned that you get to learn about all these things through Davies's eyes, and he is not an especially progressive or politically correct thinker. There's a wonderful moment, when he describes a character as being schooled in Canada, and educated in Oxford. I have re-read this book, and will do so again. The characters are fascinating, and all reflect various prejudices of Davies'. Paul, the magician, acquires a wonderful sidekick, called Liesl, who is a unique character. The magic world, and the world of magic, keeps on drawing me back in. This book tackles some big themes, like religion, theatre and people's desire to be deceived. Lots of food for thought. I think this is a great book, and better than the Salterton trilogy. It is very well rounded off, and the interplay between the themes, the actions, and the characters is more satisfying. I think that Davies does a better job of letting the characters be themselves, rather than reflections of his ideas. This book will take you into worlds which you never imagined you would want to know about, and will show you a mystery that is not clear until the last page. Highly recommended.
Rating: 
Summary: Papa don't preach
Review: Three books that should've stopped at one. Fifth Business deserves five stars, for telling us everything we need to know about some unusual and brilliantly-conceived characters from the small town of Deptford, with a maturity and sensitivity sorely lacking in modern prose, and from the perspective of an author who fully understand the subtlety and power of myth in everyday life. Things however take a turn for the worse in The Manticore, where Davies transforms the occasionally preachy and stilted dialogue of the first book into a full-blown lecture series on a variety of subjects dear to his heart. Like Oscar Wilde, he cannot seem to resist the opportunity to put pedantic little speeches into his characters' mouths, with the result that the second and third novels pale in comparison to the first. This tendency emerges at its worst in the female characters , who rather than being human beings of any real substance are either saints (Mary Dempster) or know-it-all windbags presented as Wise Women (Dr. Von Haller and the intolerably pompous ueber-hag Liesl). After their third or fourth usage of the formula "Silly people think that..." to introduce an opinion with which Davies takes issue, you get the sense of a writer on autopilot. World of Wonders improves things a good deal, harking back to the pre-War small-town world of Fifth Business, this time from the perspective of a traveling side show. But again, Davies makes the supposedly "uneducated" Magnus Eisingrim talk like a celebrated literary wit; instead of altering his words slightly to convey the mindset of a brilliant but unlettered individual, Davies employs the rather clumsy and obvious device of having another character question him outright about what he knows. Do yourself a favor: read Fifth Business, and then move onto something else. Try Cormac McCarthy, who can write biblically of Bible-sized themes, without making his dialogue sounds like a clever sermon.
Rating:
Summary: Definitely worth buying
Review: Undeniably, this and J.R.R. Tolkien's THE LORD OF THE RINGS constitute the best trilogies in all fiction (even though they bear little resemblance to each other). FIFTH BUSINESS was my favorite, probably because I liked the erudite yet odd protagonist Dunston Ramsay, a man with an idiosyncratic penchant for hagiography (study of saints). WORLD OF WONDERS was a close second (how did Davies pick up so much information about circuses without ever being in one himself?) with THE MANTICORE (a fictitious beast with the face of a man, body of a lion, and a stinging tail like a scorpion) third. Davies himself later said that he had pondered for years the questions: To what extent is a man responsible for the outcome of his actions, and how early in life does the responsibility begin? After long reflection and debate, Davies concluded that responsibility begins with life itself, and his trilogy delves into this question, showing how the mere throwing of a stone laden snowball by Boy Staunton continues to have consequences for the next sixty years. Davies writing appeals to both 'high brow' and 'low brow' tastes, and this trilogy is a delight to read and re-read
Rating:
Summary: Enthralling
Review: What a marvellous trilogy. It's hard to read quickly because each page gives so much to ponder and contemplate. Davies obviously thoroughly researches for his writing and the reader benefits enormously. Not one character is truly likeable and yet somehow Davies makes you care about each one. I preferred The Manticore because of the wonderful interactions with the psychologist but really all three books have their features. This trilogy should be appreciated by all manner of readers as it has so much to offer and is so easy to read.
Rating: 
Summary: In Contempt
Review: When Fifth Business was published in 1970 it was very different from the ordinary English-Canadian novel (or the ordinary French-Canadian one). Canada was one of the last countries on earth to develop a literary modernism. The first modernist novel is dated to 1959, long after major achievements from Guatemala, Poland, Australia or Japan. The strange story behind Fifth Business differs it remarkably from the conventional, conservative and quite frankly unimiginative works such as Hugh MacLennan. Starting out at the turn of the century in the small Ontario town of Deptford, it tells of two young boys, Dunstan Ramsay and Percy "Piggy-Boy" Staunton. The two get into an argument and Staunton throws a snowball with a stone in it at Ramsey. Instead it hits Mrs. Dempster, the Baptist Minister's wife and she gives birth prematurely to Paul Dempster. Later Paul will vanish, supposedly running away to join the circus, only to reappear as the great magician Magnus Eisengrim. Ramsey becomes a leading scholar on saints and becomes obsessed with the idea that Mrs. Dempster is one. Staunton becomes increasingly powerful and is on the verge of becoming lieutenant governor of Ontario, when he dies in a car crash. At the end of the first novel Eisengrim's bearded lady assistant gives a cryptic message on who was responsible for Staunton's death (Ramsey is the in the role of "fifth Business.") So far, the story is very intersting and the reader will undoubtedly wish to read, The Manticore, in which Staunton's son undergoes Jungian analysis, and the World of Wonders, in which Eisengrim tells the stroy of his life. Unfortunately, not only does the trilogy not mantain this interest, its increasingly repulsive nature becomes more and more evident. One problem, and it is a very serious problem, is Davies' fascination with Jung. This dates the novel badly, since in the intereceding three decades while Freud's reputation has declined, Jung's reputation has completely disintergrated. Jung's supposedly asexual and anti-sexual theory is in striking contrast to his contemptible and caddish sexual exploitation of some of his patients. His invocation of deep mythology and the mysteries of Asia now appears fashionable and shallow. And one cannot forgive his anti-semitic sneers against Freud and his flattering of the Third Reich from the safety of neutral Switzerland. Davies has taken from Jung two things. First, he takes a fashionable mysticism which appears striking in Fifth Business but means less and less as the trilogy proceeds. Secondly, and far more damaging, Davies takes from Jung a contempt for sexuality, that turns into a contempt from sexual love and for love itself. It's not simply that the solution to Staunton's death is one that causes the other character the absolute minimum in guilt and moral discomfort. Sexual Desire is shown up only to be mocked. Ramsay is momentarily infatuated by a circus girl only to find out that she is a lesbian. One of the journalists who interview Eisengrim is later revealed to have made a fool of himself in a sexual escapade. Staunton's son only has one sexual experience, not with the attractive and intelligent Jewish girl who might make him a good wife, but with a much older woman his insenstive father asks to relieve him of his virginity. The pedophile who initiates Dempsey/Eisengrim into the circus become a pathetic defenerate. And one should note how the trilogy treats the protagonists' parents. Several of them die in the post-war influenza epidemic, and without the characters showing any grief. Not to give too much about the Mrs. Dempsey subplot, not only is Mrs. Dempsey not a saint, but her son shows no concern for her once he learns she is dead. It is striking that Saul Bellow should admire Davies so much, since the compassion of such works as Seize the Day, is clearly lacking on Davies part. As the novel ends, the real story of the Deptford Trilogy is that the only two characters who show the capacity for sexual love end up condemned, destroyed and constantly belittled and despised throughout the novel.
Rating:
Summary: In Contempt
Review: When Fifth Business was published in 1970 it was very different from the ordinary English-Canadian novel (or the ordinary French-Canadian one). Canada was one of the last countries on earth to develop a literary modernism. The first modernist novel is dated to 1959, long after major achievements from Guatemala, Poland, Australia or Japan. The strange story behind Fifth Business differs it remarkably from the conventional, conservative and quite frankly unimiginative works such as Hugh MacLennan. Starting out at the turn of the century in the small Ontario town of Deptford, it tells of two young boys, Dunstan Ramsay and Percy "Piggy-Boy" Staunton. The two get into an argument and Staunton throws a snowball with a stone in it at Ramsey. Instead it hits Mrs. Dempster, the Baptist Minister's wife and she gives birth prematurely to Paul Dempster. Later Paul will vanish, supposedly running away to join the circus, only to reappear as the great magician Magnus Eisengrim. Ramsey becomes a leading scholar on saints and becomes obsessed with the idea that Mrs. Dempster is one. Staunton becomes increasingly powerful and is on the verge of becoming lieutenant governor of Ontario, when he dies in a car crash. At the end of the first novel Eisengrim's bearded lady assistant gives a cryptic message on who was responsible for Staunton's death (Ramsey is the in the role of "fifth Business.") So far, the story is very intersting and the reader will undoubtedly wish to read, The Manticore, in which Staunton's son undergoes Jungian analysis, and the World of Wonders, in which Eisengrim tells the stroy of his life. Unfortunately, not only does the trilogy not mantain this interest, its increasingly repulsive nature becomes more and more evident. One problem, and it is a very serious problem, is Davies' fascination with Jung. This dates the novel badly, since in the intereceding three decades while Freud's reputation has declined, Jung's reputation has completely disintergrated. Jung's supposedly asexual and anti-sexual theory is in striking contrast to his contemptible and caddish sexual exploitation of some of his patients. His invocation of deep mythology and the mysteries of Asia now appears fashionable and shallow. And one cannot forgive his anti-semitic sneers against Freud and his flattering of the Third Reich from the safety of neutral Switzerland. Davies has taken from Jung two things. First, he takes a fashionable mysticism which appears striking in Fifth Business but means less and less as the trilogy proceeds. Secondly, and far more damaging, Davies takes from Jung a contempt for sexuality, that turns into a contempt from sexual love and for love itself. It's not simply that the solution to Staunton's death is one that causes the other character the absolute minimum in guilt and moral discomfort. Sexual Desire is shown up only to be mocked. Ramsay is momentarily infatuated by a circus girl only to find out that she is a lesbian. One of the journalists who interview Eisengrim is later revealed to have made a fool of himself in a sexual escapade. Staunton's son only has one sexual experience, not with the attractive and intelligent Jewish girl who might make him a good wife, but with a much older woman his insenstive father asks to relieve him of his virginity. The pedophile who initiates Dempsey/Eisengrim into the circus become a pathetic defenerate. And one should note how the trilogy treats the protagonists' parents. Several of them die in the post-war influenza epidemic, and without the characters showing any grief. Not to give too much about the Mrs. Dempsey subplot, not only is Mrs. Dempsey not a saint, but her son shows no concern for her once he learns she is dead. It is striking that Saul Bellow should admire Davies so much, since the compassion of such works as Seize the Day, is clearly lacking on Davies part. As the novel ends, the real story of the Deptford Trilogy is that the only two characters who show the capacity for sexual love end up condemned, destroyed and constantly belittled and despised throughout the novel.
Rating:
Summary: The trilogy as an object of contemplation...
Review: When I lived in London, a friend stongly urged me to read Davies. "Which trilogy? Cornish or Deptford?" I had heard those were his best novels. "Cornish" she replied. I finished the Cornish trilogy, loved it, and moved into Deptford. I finished World of Wonders last night, and have some thoughts. I enjoy each of Davies' novels as I read them, but their full impact seems to hit me several days after finishing them. After reading the Cornish trilogy, with it's baroque styles and encyclopedic references, Deptford seemed a little...thin. Almost minimalist in it's scope. ["Minimalist" is a relative term here--we are talking about Robertson Davies, after all.] But now that I have finished World of Wonders, I find that I prefer its mystery, its sense of what is not said. The sense of myth that runs through the characters' lives. In a word, haunting. The Cornish trilogy is a wonderful series of yarns. Highly entertaining, as is seems few books are. But Deptford forces the reader to do more work: to think, investigate, contemplate what has happened in the novels. Both trilogies are stunning achievements, but I prefer doing investigative work rather than being entertained (although what an entertainment!). Final thought: Unlike the overrated Umberto Eco, who writes fiction like an academic, Davies is able to create erudite, learned characters who are interesting people, rather than mouthpieces that demonstrate their author's wide field of knowledge. Davies' erudition serves the characters, the story and the reader. Eco's expositions only serve his ego.
Rating:
Summary: The Best Unknown Writer in North America
Review: Why don't more people know Robertson Davies? He's not just Canada's best writer, he's one of the best English speaking writers, period. Reading Davies is like reading the great writers of the Nineteeth Century, like Trollop or Thackery, but with 20th Century sensibilities and settings. The writing is rich and detailed, the characters alive and real. Davies paints every last deatil, every stroke, every hair. I first read The Trilogy as an undergraduate in the 1970s, and I've returned to it every few years. In a world overrun with sparse, affected postmodern writers repeating the same tales of alienation and angst, Davies stands out for his style, his detailed plot lines, his moving stories and his wit.
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