In this final book of the trilogy, Dunstan Ramsay is once again the narrator, but he is just a platform for Magnus Eisengrim (aka Paul Dempster) to narrate his entire life. Basically it’s another book built almost entirely on someone making interminable speeches. Most characters, both those Eisengrim talks about and those who are physically there, are bland at best, despicable at worst, and you don’t feel attached to any of them.
And do we finally get the answer to the “who killed Boy Staunton?” question, you ask? We do, in the last chapter. Honestly, for a trilogy literally advertised as “built around this mystery,” we spend remarkably little time actually speaking of it... And the answer doesn’t make the 800 pages we have to get through to get it anything close to worth it, by the way.
Yet once again, like in the first books, on paper this book had nothing for it, and yet I didn’t hate it? Something positive to say about the author and his style, I guess.
In conclusion, I’m giving this book (and the series as a whole) three stars, because it pretty much left me indifferent. Didn’t hate it, don’t regret having read it, glad it’s over, will never read anything by Robertson Davies ever again.
And do we finally get the answer to the “who killed Boy Staunton?” question, you ask? We do, in the last chapter. Honestly, for a trilogy literally advertised as “built around this mystery,” we spend remarkably little time actually speaking of it... And the answer doesn’t make the 800 pages we have to get through to get it anything close to worth it, by the way.
Yet once again, like in the first books, on paper this book had nothing for it, and yet I didn’t hate it? Something positive to say about the author and his style, I guess.
In conclusion, I’m giving this book (and the series as a whole) three stars, because it pretty much left me indifferent. Didn’t hate it, don’t regret having read it, glad it’s over, will never read anything by Robertson Davies ever again.