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The opera is not the only unfinished business in The Lyre of Orpheus. Darcourt is struggling to complete his biography of his friend Francis Cornish and trying to fill a mysterious gap in his subject's life between 1937 and 1945; readers who remember What's Bred in the Bone already know the bizarre information Darcourt will discover, including the existence of a 16th century triptych with unmistakable ties to the 20th. And a potential blackmailer turns up, hoping to hold several characters responsible for deeds that occurred way back in The Rebel Angels.
Davies juggles these plots with consistent good humor and remarkable insider erudition. The latter should come as no surprise, given the author's extensive background in the theater and academe; as a young man he was an actor in Britain's Old Vic Company, and he later served 20 years as the master of Massey College at the University of Toronto. The novel is crammed with funny renditions of wheezy professorial badinage and flamboyant dramatic monologues. But it is Davies' own voice that seems most memorable: confident, unhurried, interested and amused. Late in the novel, on the brink of the opera's opening night, the narrative pauses briefly to consider Oliver Twentyman, a trouper in his 80s who will sing the role of Merlin the magician: "He liked being old -- and still a great artist. Age, linked with achievement, was a splendid crown to life." So it is, as this novel and Davies' remarkable career munificently demonstrate.