A very amusing, and erudite, look at different aspects of literature high and low. Davies was a brilliant book expert and a discerning, kind critic.

The author discusses everything from earnest middlebrow novels to pornography. While Davies is very serious in his desire to get people reading, his touch is so light that the book is a lot of fun to read.

Designed in discrete sections, the book can be read from time to time or pored over from page one till the end.

Highly recommended for any book lover. ( )

Reading this book is to sit in a dusty, sunlit study with Robertson Davies while he reads books (many of them obscure or otherwise unexpected), smokes his pipe and occasionally gives a little chuckle. It's a literary treat - scholarly, very readable, and highly intelligent. Davies discusses literature of various types, encompassing a diversity of genres from self help books to Victorian theatre to pornography to 15th century joke books. But though this is a type of literary criticism, he is not setting out to be critical in the sense that your average literary critic might be. He never wants to be scathing (though he can achieve it sometimes) and is genuinely looking for the worth in everything he reads. The insights he brings out as a result are deeply thought out and fascinating.

On reading Davies one has the sense of being in the presence of a genuine scholar - someone very widely read, deeply thoughtful. Davies is a gentleman who uses his mind and his wit for something far more real than the sensation and ego so often found in so-called literary criticism these days. He also gives a sense, most unusual, of having nothing to prove. He has read a lot, thought a lot, and is sharing the fruits of it with the intelligent reader. And there’s the end of it. I found that particularly refreshing.

Davies reinvents an otherwise disused word, the clerisy. The clerisy are those who read for pleasure, but not for idleness; who read for pastime but not to kill time; who love books, but do not live by books. If you are of the clerisy, you will probably love A Voice from the Attic. ( )

I love it when in the first chapter of this book, Robertson Davies starts by reviewing self-help books. Before the first chapter, he had not given a complete hint about what type of literature he would be discussing. Just because of what I knew about him, I had assumed he would go straight to Dickens, or Jane Austen, or James Joyce, or some exalted string of authors. But no, he goes straight to self-help books. I guess I might have missed the clue that he was going to go to what sells the most in book stores. I think he had given some statistics. I imagine statistics that would have made him choose the way he did to be something like:

Percentage of books sold in bookstores that are really good classics like Dickens, Austen, Joyce and others: 4%.
Cookbooks: 30%.
Self-help books: 20%.
Trashy beach novels: 15% and ... you get the idea.

But the good thing is that he never eliminates any book from consideration without actually reading it and analyzing and finding out if there is something good or notable in it. Good job, Robertson.

I started reading his novels in about 1980 and worked backwards to beginning of his oeuvre. Next I began reading each new one that was released until his death a few years later. I have missed him.

This guy is really really smart. Please read this book if you get a chance.

I've been reading RD for almost 40 yrs. now. Reading his essays has added greatly to my fund of knowlege. He introduced me to among others: JC Powys, Mervyn Peake, Gwyn Thomas, Cothburn O'neal, I simply cannot put a value on this. One of my treasured possessions is a letter from Davies. I owe him a debt, alas, i can never pay. ( )