C O U N T E R T E N O R S

Countertenors are the ones who are noteworthy for their inability to sound anything like castrati. Their efforts always have a strained quality and are a source of embarrassment to many people. It is supposed to be done naturally and without any hint of falsetto, but seldom is. It was a popular range of voice up to the 18th century and was commercially revived in recent times by Alf Deller. These singing shop assistants (as they are laughingly known in the trade) have now become quite popular again; in fact there were so many of them around that a lot of them have had to go into pop groups and the King's Singers.
SOURCE: Peter Gammond, The Bluffer's Guide to Opera (London: Oval Books - Copyright © Oval Projects 1985)

Countertenors and male altos can be frightfully refined singers but they are milk-and-water stuff in comparison to a real tenor, and however skilfully they pipe away in their head-voices or falsettos, it is generally much better to transpose the castrato part down one octave and give it to a tenor with balls and to hell with the purists. To give the part to a female is not a good option either, for who can believe in a female Roman emperor, general, or brigand? Also the sexual chemistry of the piece is destroyed by having two women who are clearly not lesbians making love to each other. Or if it seems they are lesbians, then it's even more confusing.
SOURCE: Sir Denis Forman: The Good Opera Guide (London: Wiedenfeld & Nicolson, 1994 - Copyright © 1994 by Denis Forman)

The man who had charge of us boys was one of the counter-tenors, a dear little chap name Thickpenny - Roland Thickpenny. You know what a counter-tenor is? No, I thought not. You've lived a dreadfully meagre life, Mackilwraith. A counter-tenor is a male alto. He is a tenor who has trained and enriched his falsetto register so that he can sing in a lovely, clear voice, and fill in the alto part in the male choir in a cathedral. You can't have women in Church choirs; they sour the Communion wine, or something. They're damned nuisances, anyhow. Well, Thickpenny was a dear - a chubby, red-raced little fellow, with a lovely voice. Women in the States went wild over him. Wanted to see what made him sing like that. Thought he was a eunuch, or something.
SOURCE: Robertson Davies: Tempest-Tost

"What would you say to a haute-contre - you know, one of those high, unearthly voices?"
"A counter-tenor, you mean? What could be better? Makes him unlike any of the others."
"Yes, and very useful in ensembles. Those male altos are like trumpets, only strange -"
"The horns of elfland faintly blowing," said Powell.
SOURCE: Robertson Davies: The Lyre of Orpheus

Lady P. (crossing to him). And are you really Nisnardi?
Wood. (aside). I must brazen it out. (Aloud.) I am!
Lady P. Incomparable falsettist!
Wood. (aside). Good heavens, I'm a singer - a falsettist! Why, I'm a bad baritone!
SOURCE: W. S. Gilbert: Haste to the Wedding