The Deptford Trilogy: Fifth Business, The Manticore, and World of Wonders [Paperback]

Fifth Business is a marvelous book, and while it doesn't have quite the same mystery or horror of Carroll, it does have an excellent style, and there is indeed a twist or two along the way to keep most any reader sated. Basically the autobiography of Dunstable Ramsay, born around the turn of the century in the small Canadian town of Deptford, Fifth Business details not only Ramsay's life, but also the life of his oldest friend, Percy "Boy" Staunton. What makes this novel so remarkable is how realistic the portrayal is, without bogging down in pages of mundane description. Over the course of the novel, one's understanding for Dunstable grows, both in positive and negative turns, and by the end, he is as an old friend of one's own.

Based on some of the cover blurbs, I had expected a little more magic realism, or at least an edge of the fantastic, to this book, and while it may be there, it is consistently down-played. Normally I am not one to go in for fiction without at least a feeling of the extraordinary, but Davies writing style kept me glued to the page, reading longer into the night than I would ordinarily wish during the work week. And I learned many things, including what the term hagiography refers to, and some feeling for Canada and their strange ties to Britain and the world.

But it is the aspect of Fifth Business itself where this book receives full credit for its recommendation. "Fifth Business" refers to, as related in the novel:

"You don't know what this is? Well, in opera in a permanent company of the kind we keep up in Europe you must have a prima donna--always a soprano, always the heroine, often a fool; and a tenor who always plays the lover to her; and then you must have a contralto, who is a rival to the soprano, or a sorceress or something; and a basso, who is the villain or the rival or whatever threatens the tenor.

So far, so good. But you cannot make a plot work without another man, and he is usually a baritone, and he is called in the profession Fifth Business, because he is the odd man out, the person who has no opposite of the other sex. And you must have Fifth Business because he is the one who knows the secret of the hero's birth, or comes to the assistance of the heroine when she thinks all is lost, or keeps the hermitess in her cell, or may even be the cause of somebody's death if that is part of the plot."

Dunstable is indeed Fifth Business, for he does know the secret of the hero's birth, and does come to the assistance of the heroine, and keeps a woman in her cell, and may even be the cause of Boy Staunton's murder. The trick is discovering who exactly is the hero, and the assistance only lasts for a short time, and being locked in a cell is not always advantageous, and who exactly did murder Boy Staunton? These and more questions are brought up in Fifth Business, some of which are answered.

The Manticore picks up almost where Fifth Business lets off, but quickly reverts to flashback to tell some of the same story from the point of view of Boy Staunton's son, David. David's recollection of some of the events as told by Ramsay are colored by his own life, including the fear introduced by his sister that David is not actually Boy's son, but Ramsay's. Whereas Ramsey was fifth business to Boy Staunton, David is a star in his own story, which is told by a journal that he writes to discuss with his psychotherapist.

It sounds dull, and at times it slows due to the conceit, but Davies has a way of interjecting interest right as you are about to put away the novel. Two-thirds into the novel and it breaks away from the psychotherapy, returns to the "present" of the trilogy, and reunites us with Ramsay and some of the other characters from Fifth Business. The problem with The Manticore is that it is the middle novel, without the refreshing newness of the opening and lacking the rush towards the climax of the concluding novel.

And what a rush World of Wonders is--once again, it covers some of the same ground of the two previous novels, filling in detail about magician Magnus Eisingrim (nee Paul Dempster of Deptford) that also provides additional insight into Ramsey and, in the end, Boy Staunton. Of the three novels, World of Wonders is closest to Carroll. Rather than tell the story from Magnus viewpoint, Davies switches back to Ramsay. However, the story Ramsay tells is of the biographical confessions of Magnus. This way Davies can tell the story from a new viewpoint while retaining the mysterious nature of Magnus (who is the closest to the unreliable narrator used by Carroll) to keep the secret of Boy Staunton's death until the closing minutes. Magnus' history isn't pretty, and the World of Wonders is as a carnival sideshow, full of flash but hiding a seedy underbelly. However, Magnus is not unhappy with his lot, looking back over his life, which is one of the aspects of the story that haunts Ramsay, who feels somewhat responsible (along with Staunton) for Paul Dempster's early life. The philosophical aspect of this is interesting--Davies implies that, while taking responsibility of one's actions is important, there is a statute of limitations on guilt.

The Deptford Trilogy is a strong suite of novels, cunningly wrought and well worth your time. I regret that I had waited this long to discover them.

When you begin Fifth Business, you'll be fooled into thinking it's another standard coming-of-age narrative. You'll soon realize how wrong you are. Sadly, World of Wonders is the weakest, seeming rather unnecessary, and exposing the story of a mysterious character perhaps better left mysterious, but it's still a good read. Fifth Business and Manticore, however, are stunning works of literary fiction.

Some of the reviews here may go into a little too much detail about the plots and subplots. It may be more enjoyable to read these books cold. The plots diverge and wind around, and you sometimes wonder where everything is going, but there is a definite pleasure in being surprised to see how everything fits together in the end. You can trust Robertson Davies' craft to make sure things do fit together soundly in the end.

One character in Fifth Business descibes his ideal in scholarly pursuits as to approach a subject "with a critical but not a cruel mind." I think that approach characterizes Davies' style. I can understand that he may seem pendantic and opiniated to some readers. I personally would not agree with many of his opinions, but in reading him I realized how much of our modern discourse on moral issues has lost the elements of wit and charm - and a benevolent humor - that characterize this writing. How often can you say that you thoroughly enjoyed reading something by someone even though you disagreed with half the ideas that person expressed?

As a reader in from the U.S., I also felt that I learned a bit about Canadian history and Canadians' perspective on the world. This will certainly not do us any harm. So when we Americans read the Deptford Trilogy, in addition to enjoying great literature, we can learn who Mackenzie King was and find out about the Prince of Wales' tour of Canada in the thirties.

Of the three novels, I thought Davies' best writing was in the "World of Wonders." I sense a definite tone of nineteenth century fiction in Davies' writing, something of Trollope, Dickens, and Balzac, and that style emerges most warmly from these two novels. This is a cheerful, humane style in them, and it kept my attention throughout. If people are still enjoying decent literature at the end of the twenty-first century, I think it will be because novels like these endure. I hope they will.