The Name of the Rose

By page 30, I was all ready to name the rose Barry and be done with it, but for some reason I pushed on through to the end. This is less a novel than a smug and rambling treatise by a self-worshipping author desperate to show the world how clever he is. Utter garbage, but two stars because it was still much better than Shantaram.

“Huye, Adso, de los profetas y de los que están dispuestos a morir por la verdad, porque suelen provocar también la muerte de muchos otros, a menudo antes que la propia, y a veces en lugar de la propia.”

A veces me pregunto por qué razón tardo tanto en leer ciertos clásicos, por qué pasa el tiempo y tomo la decisión de comenzarlos. No es la primera vez que sucede. Con esta novela casi perfecta de Umberto Eco me ha pasado lo mismo. Cuando finalizo uno de estos libros, me doy cuenta de mi error, omisión o torpeza.
Nunca había leído a Eco, con excepción de un libro a modo de entrevista (muy lindo por cierto que se llama "Nadie acabará con los libros) aunque conocía perfectamente de quién se trataba.
Como con otros autores, me asombro del enorme nivel de erudición y conocimientos que tenía este profesor italiano, ensayista, experto en semiótica ocupando la cátedra de la Universidad de Bolonia, filósofo, novelista, traductor y crítico literario, en fin, un genio...
Su legado es vasto, enorme y seguramente seguiré leyendo algunos libros más de su autoría como "El péndulo de Foucault" o "El cementerio de Praga".
Poco más puedo agregar que no se haya dicho de esta, su mejor novela de todos los tiempos, publicada en 1980 y aclamada por todo el mundo, que originariamente había llamado " La abadía del delito" y la que luego, cambió por "El nombre de la rosa".
En sus "Apostillas", Eco nos dice que optó por este título lleno de significados y propenso a la confusión por parte de quien lee en sus "Apostillas": «Ya casi los ha perdido todos: rosa mística, y como rosa ha vivido lo que viven las rosas, la guerra de las dos rosas, una rosa es una rosa, los rosacruces, gracias por las espléndidas rosas, rosa fresca toda fragancia», que se relaciona a la trama de la novela, tan desconcertante por momentos y en donde se trata de llegar a una solución final que está oculta.
Los hechos son narrados por Adso de Melk, quien, cuando joven es asistente de Fray Guillermo de Baskerville, una especie de monje mezclado con Sherlock Holmes, de una brillante capacidad de raciocinio altamente deductivo, a quien le encargan averiguar un asesinato u homicidio sucedido en una abadía benedictina.
Con Guillermo y Adso como personajes principales, iremos conociendo a otros que serán muy importantes durante todo el desarrollo de la novela como el Abad Abone (pieza clave de todo este asunto), el monje Ubertino, el Inquisidor Bernardo de Guidi, Malaquías de Hildesheim y luego los demás monje de la orden que completan parte de la primera línea de personajes secundarios como Adelmo da Otranto, Berengario de Arundel, Venancio de Salvemec, Bencio de Upsala, Remigio da Varagine, Severino da Saint'Emmerano, Alinardo de Grottaferrata (con sus épicas trompetas proféticas) y varios más.
Todos ellos crean un conjunto de posibles sospechosos o víctimas, según el lector lo considere, ya que a partir de la primera muerte los hechos comenzarán a tornarse muy intricados y el suspenso irá en aumento.
Lo notable de "El nombre de la rosa" es la diversidad de características que posee, ya que es una novela de neto corte policial, es una impresionante reconstrucción de la época medieval, dado que la acción transcurre en el año 1327, es un compendio de latín,porque las frases en este idioma aparecen prácticamente cada párrafo por medio y obviamente se relacionan con lo religioso, es un tratado de Teología y de historia de la fe católica, es un acercamiento al mundo de los libros llamados incunables, o sea, aquellos que fueron impresos desde la aparición de la imprenta hasta el año 1500 (Eco poseía en su biblioteca personal una gran cantidad de ellos, obviamente invalorables), posee también la inclusión de un sinnúmero de referencias a la Biblia (lo que demuestra el conocimiento total que Eco poseía de ella), es en cierto modo una gran crítica al sistema sacerdotal y a la supuesta mezcla de conspiraciones, decadencia y corrupción que este encierra, ya que a modo de crítica, Eco remarca cómo a lo largo de la historia, Papas, sacerdotes y obispos han estado (y aún sigue estando) involucrados en hechos de corrupción, blasfemia, sodomía y abusos de todo orden y todo nivel y es uno de los puntos principales de los que trata "El nombre de la rosa", el del intento de desenmascarar a los verdaderos culpables no sólo de los crímenes que se comenten en la abadía, sino también de demostrar que no todo es santo en este ámbito, que está impregnado de decadencia, corrompido por los mismos hombres que fomentan el bien cuando en realidad son justamente lo contrario.
A partir de cada muerto que va apareciendo, la novela se va asemejando a esos thrillers del estilo de la película "Siete pecados capitales", logrando que todos desconfíen de todos y en medio de semejante desconcierto, Guillermo de Baskerville trata de no perder el foco de su investigación, mientras que también Adso es arrastrado por la vorágine de perversión y muerte.
En la novela nos encontramos también con verdaderas clases de latín, una acalorada discusión acerca de la risa, una conexión con la carnavalización bajtiniana, una acercamiento al misterio del Apocalipsis, libros apócrifos, compendios árabes, textos en griego, lecciones de botánica que abarca plantas, flores y venenos, la filosofía de Roger Bacon, la corrupción de los valores, la caída del hombre hacia la corrupción de la carne, las alianzas y traiciones entre los monjes, (al fin y al cabo son humanos) y un sinfín de perversiones, deseos, alucinaciones, suicidios, crímenes, accidentes y tragedias.
Párrafo aparte para el homenaje de Umberto Eco hacia Jorge Luis Borges, en la figura del bibliotecario ciego, Jorge de Burgos, uno de los personajes más importantes de esta novela, que resume toda la sabiduría que el gran escritor argentino poseía.
En la biblioteca del piso más alto de la abadía está la clave para desentrañar el misterio de todo lo que sucede, pero ya en las primeras páginas, el Abad se lo prohíbe a Guillermo (y a nosotros los lectores), y para complicar inclusive mucho más la investigación de Guillermo, está construida como un auténtico laberinto (otro guiño a Borges y a su cuento "La biblioteca de Babel" del libro "Ficciones"), entonces, el único recurso que nos queda es acompañar a Guillermo y a Adso a descubrir la verdad, si es que esto puede lograrse ya que el camino hacia la verdad es tortuoso y en medio de él están los hombres y es justamente por esa razón que tal vez, sea inalcanzable...

If I had to spend a year on a desert island and was only allowed to take one book, this would be it.

At the time of its publication, one reviewer described `The Name of the Rose' as "a book about everything". At first glance, it may seem to be a book largely about obscure Fourteenth Century religious controversies, heresies and sects, with a murder mystery mixed in. But this is a book that rewards repeat readings (I've just finished it for the seventh time), and the heart of the novel is in its exposition of semiotics - the world as a blizzard of signs and life and thought as their constant interpretation. Just as Brother William of Baskerville guides the naïve Adso through the world of the monastery and the wider world of knowledge and reason, so Eco guides the reader through a story where few things are what they seem and everything can be read several ways.

Even the `obscure Fourteenth Century sects', which many readers find bewildering, dull or both, represent far more than they seem at first glance. The long controversy over the poverty of Christ and its application in the medieval Church forms the focus for a wide-ranging analysis of how ideals can motivate and inspire different people in different ways. In this novel we find skeptics (like William), mystical non-conformists (like Umbertino de Casale), terrorists and revolutionaries (like the Dolcinite heretics) and rigid fundamentalists (like Jorge and Bernard Gui). At the time of its first publication, the parallels between the book's religious politics and modern manifestations of the same ways of thinking, including Cold War political expediency and terrorists like the Red Brigades, would have been obvious to Italian readers. These days, in the wake of 9/11 and the Iraq War, Eco's analysis has not lost any of its resonance.

Some warnings for new readers - if you think (the truly appalling) `The Da Vinci Code' was "masterful writing", you probably want to save yourself time and effort and read something else. It's not as daunting as many make out, but "Rose" is far from a light read. Eco also deliberately made the first 100 pages a difficult read, but stick with it. All those obscure politics and odd names do make some sense after a while.

Secondly, many reviewers have complained about the untranslated Latin passages. Despite what some of them have said, these are rarely more than a line or two and usually short lines at that. Medievalists will recognise most of them anyway (they are quotes from the Vulgate, Occam and Aquinas and so on, and usually famous ones), but non-specialists will usually get the essence of them from their contexts. In almost all cases they are roughly translated or paraphrased in the dialogue that precedes or follows them anyway, so they aren't actually `untranslated' at all - they just look that way.

Thirdly, people who approach this novel merely as a medieval whodunit a la the Brother Caedfel mysteries are likely to find `Rose' a strain. While the mystery story forms the basis of the plot, there is a lot more to this novel than plot. Some have said they found the mystery clichéd and derivative of other mysteries. Ummm ... yes - Eco is a postmodernist. It's *meant* to be derivative.

The real joy of this novel is its layers of meaning, which is why it's one that can be read and re-read with new discoveries every time. It's a delight to read and great exercise for the mind and spirit, as well as a counter to those who think the Middle Ages was simply a period of superstition and ignorance. Far from being an anachronism or a prefigurement of more `enlightened' times, William of Baskerville represents the medieval voices of reason, innovation and logic that are ignored by most popular representations of this badly misunderstood period.

A must read - but with your brain well and truly in high gear.

"The Name of the Rose" is not a book to be picked up lightly with the expectation that you, the reader, are about to embark on a traditional work of historical fiction. Umberto Eco expects much from the reader of this book. Almost immediately the unsuspecting reader will find himself dropped into the midst of the High Middle Ages, a society completely foreign for the majority of modern readers.

In historical context, the story occurs during the time the Papacy had moved from its traditional location in Italy to Avignon. John XXII is a Pope brought to the head of the Holy Roman Church by the King of France. John is not the first Pope to leave the Church's Italian home.

However, it is 1327, and great dissatisfaction pervades Europe that a French King should have political influence over the Church. Traditionally, following the division of the Roman Empire between West and East, the secular protection of the Church had fallen to the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, a title held by members of the royal families of Germany. In that year, Louis IV would declare himself the King of Italy and in 1328 he would crown himself the next Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire.

Louis' entrance into Italy was inevitable, as King Phillip of France had encouraged an alliance with the "French" Pope through his connection with the King of Naples. Louis' sympathies, or perhaps his political acumen, led him to support the Franciscan Order, committed to the life of poverty. This was in direct contradiction to the Papal Bulls issued by John XXII, who saw the Franciscan Orders as a disruptive force among the common people. Off shoots of the Fransiscan's, particularly the Psuedo-Apostles, led by Fra Dolcino, had led to absolute chaos in Italy. Dolcino's common followers attacked the wealthy to bring about a universal state of poverty. There should be no rich. There should be no poor. The ultimate goal of Dolcino was to abolish the need of the Church and place it under the authority of the people. Under this theory, there was no need for Popes, Cardinals, Bishops, or ecclesiastical offices of any type.

William of Baskerville's purpose in going to the Abbey of Melko is as an emissary of the Imperial Theologians to negotiate a meeting between legations appointed by the Pope and Louis to resolve the conflict between the Papacy, the Minorite or Franciscan orders, and Louis. What is at stake is a reinterpretation between Church and State. That the underlying issue concerns who will wield true power in Europe is obvious.

However, William's true mission is delayed. For, upon his arrival, he discovers that a young Illuminator in the Abbey's Scriptorium has met an untimely death. Was it murder or suicide? The death of a second monk, clearly indicates that someone in the closed society of the Abbey of Melk is a murderer.

Accompanied by his scribe, Adso, William sets out to investigate the deaths of the two monks. The mystery only deepens as more deaths occur. The circumstances seem to follow the sounding of the trumpets as revealed in the Revelation of John.

Eco continues to complicate the facts of William's case by revealing that the Abbey contains one of the finest libraries known in the contemporary world. Interestingly, no one but the Librarian, his assistant, or someone with the permission of the Abbot himself can gain entry to the library, which is protected by a labyrinth seemingly incapable of being navigated.

William of Baskerville is the equivalent of a Medieval Sherlock Holmes. Adso, whose French name happens to be Adson, conveniently rhyming with Watson. William is a man committed to logic. He is a student of Roger Bacon. He is a contemporary of William of Occam. It should come as no surprise that he is capable of the art of deduction through that logic, nor that he should be in possession of a pair of optical lenses, serving him as eyeglasses enabling him to read the tiny writing of a murdered monk, barely perceptible to the naked eye. The monk's almost invisible writing lead William and Adso to discover the secrets of the labyrinth and to search for a book that seems to hold the motive for the accumulating bodies, day by day.

The Abbot pointedly tells William that the matter of these deaths must be resolved prior to the arrival of the two legations. The Papal legation is headed by Bernard of Gui, an infamous inquisitor who has burned many a heretic in his long history as a defender of the faith. Surely Bernard will take over the question of the deaths at the Abbey and use them to strengthen the Pope's position that the Franciscan's philosophy of the poverty of Christ be eliminated by the Pope.

William and Adso's exploration of the labyrinth to discover a missing book, the seeming motive for the murders, intensify. And they succeed in discovering their way through the labyrinth. However, they are unsuccessful in unraveling an endless thread of textual clues leading from one manuscript to the next prior to the arrival of the two opposed legations.

As feared, the discovery of yet another body, the herbalist Severinus, leads Bernard Gui to take over the inquisition to root out the evil present in the abbey. Bernard is ruthless. Torture is an accepted practice to disclose the works of the devil. As expected, Bernard announces he intends to inform the Pope that the Franciscan orders of Poverty should be prohibited.

Nevertheless, William and Adso will solve the mystery of the labyrinth, the secret manuscript it contains, and the identity of the murderer. In keeping with my practice not to reveal any spoilers of plot, I will not address the identity of the murderer, nor the motive for the crimes.

But, I will say this. "The Name of the Rose" is a labyrinth complete within itself. While a labyrinth may contain a solution, and one may escape its twists and turns, it is not always possible to end up with an answer that leaves no ambiguity. There is more than one labyrinth present in Eco's wonderful work. One question relates to the interpretation of knowledge itself. Is knowledge finite? Are there universal truths? Or is it a matter of what appears to be the truth only subject to interpretation by individuals?

To the librarians of the Abbey Melko, knowledge was something to be protected from disclosure. As I mentioned to one friend, the library took on the connotation of Eden's Tree of Life, from which man and woman were forbidden to eat. It was knowledge gained from eating the forbidden fruit that led to the loss of innocence. Considering that the library contained many works considered by the librarians to be the work of infidels, it would be their purpose to hide those works from the innocent. Yet, the mere possession of that knowledge also led to its misinterpretation and the accusation of heresy.

Clearly, during the heated debate between the Papal and Imperial Legations, knowledge did not exist independent of the thinker's perception. One postulation of a particular theological theorem was subject to debate on the most minute detail out of political motivation.

But, Adso may well have had the most significant statement to make regarding books and their contents. It will be one of my favorite passages:

n  "Until then I had thought each book spoke of the things, human or divine, that lie outside books. Now I realized that not infrequently books speak of books: it is as if they spoke among themselves. In the light of this reflection, the library seemed all the more disturbing to me. It was then the place of long, centuries-old murmuring, an imperceptible dialogue between one parchment and another, a living thing, a receptacle of powers not to ruled by a human mind, a treasure of secrets emanated by many minds, surviving the death of those who had produced them or had been their conveyors.”n

Even William was subject to hearing words so familiar, he knew he had read them before, but could not remember the name of the book. “It seemed to me, as I read this page, that I had read some of these words before, and some phrases that are almost the same, which I have seen elsewhere, return to my mind?”

Books find themselves the creator of other books,when they become so deeply planted in our subconscious. A famous contemporary example is found in Nabokov's "Lolita." Nabokov's character first appeared in a short story "Lolita," written in 1916 by Heinz von Eschwege. The story lines are quite similar. Nabokov has been said to have created artistic improprieties, or been subject to a phenomenon known as "cryptomnesia," a hidden memory of a story he had once read. Michael Marr, author of "The Two Lolitas," wrote, "Literature has always been a huge crucible in which familiar themes are continually recast..."

Perhaps James Baldwin said it best. "It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, or who had ever been alive."

As "The Name of the Rose" contains a multitude of Latin phrases, I think it fitting to add one more, not included in the book itself. That is "sub rosa." The concept first appears in Egyptian culture. The rose was the symbol of the Egyptian God Horus, most often represented by a child holding his finger to his mouth as if he were saying, "Shhhh." It became symbolic of silence. It reappears in Greek and Roman mythology. Venus/Aphrodite gave a rose to Cupid which served as a symbol of silence regarding her many indiscretions in love.

By the Middle Ages, the rose had a definite meaning. In those times, when a party of individuals met in a council hall, a rose was hung over the table. Whatever was discussed "under the rose" was secret and all parties meeting under the rose agreed that the subject of their discussions was confidential. Much lies under the surface of this novel. It was deemed by the characters to be secret. And so, I believe Eco would have us treat this novel in modo sub rosa, leaving each reader to discover its secrets in their own manner. The further one delves, the more secrets remain to be discovered.

I had wanted to read The Name of the Rose for a long time, mostly because I enjoy both fiction and non-fiction about the Middle Ages, and also because of its importance as a piece of modern Italian literature. Although I liked it for the most part, I have to admit that it disappointed me in many ways. As a mystery novel, I was expecting it to be a fast-paced page-turner, whereas in reality The Name of the Rose is very slow and ponderous. I appreciate the attention to detail and the minute and accurate descriptions of real historical events, but I feel that the narrators voice often became mired in these details, to the detriment of the plot. When the narrator, Adso, slipped into these trains of thought that were only tangential to the story, I frequently forgot what was going on by the time he emerged. In addition, much of the historical background read like a text-book, and not a novel. There were too many dates and names to keep track of, and while these elements may have been central to the story, who/what they were was never fully explained.
On the positive side, the translation is done beautifully, and I can only imagine that the original Italian is even more agile and lyrical. For those who want to stick with a 500 page novel, The Name of the Rose can be quite rewarding. I feel that I learned a lot about life in a medieval Italian monastery, and about the most important philosophical and religious concerns of the time. I just would have preferred it if Eco had focused more on writing a cohesive, engaging novel, rather than a history lesson surrounded by the vague framework of a plot.

5 ⭐ to the author but 1 ⭐ for the story.
It doesn't make any sense. I know. Although I appreciate all that intricate work Umberto Eco has done, the story itself was repulsive.
So, it's practically linguistic porn - the pompous cleric dialogues, rich descriptions, theological battles and detailed historical context make the book quite interesting. But the topics are horrible. I grew tired very quickly reading about sexually frustrated men, obsessed with antichrist, end of days and vessel of evil i.e. women. I'm aware that it was probably author intention to show the inside of monks, church and inquisition and these things hardly ever positive, but the reading wasn't pleasant anyway.
As for a murder investigation part, it's interesting but doesn't play any significant role.
In general, engaging but disgusting.

La elaboración de este libro es impresionante.

Esperaba un buen libro y eso es lo que he encontrado. Puede que no sea perfecto, y que algunos detalles no me gusten, pero es innegable que el autor ha realizado un excelente trabajo. Y no solo lo digo por la trama principal, sino por la investigación exhaustiva que ha realizado para que su historia tenga concordancia. En verdad es digna de admirar.

Sin embargo, desafortunadamente esta obra no es para cualquier lector; no porque el argumento sea aburrido, sino porque el autor hace denso su libro a propósito para «alejar» ciertos tipos de lectores. Eso no me ha gustado en absoluto. Como esta es una reseña temporal no me explayaré con la explicación de mi punto de vista sobre este tema, pero en la reseña completa sí que me desahogaré.

A pesar de todo finalizo satisfecho con el contenido, especialmente por ese final tan increíble: Un desenlace de seis estrellas. Las trampas y secretos de aquella abadía también ha sido especial conocerlas. En ese aspecto el autor me atrapó completamente.

Por cierto, sigo sin entender la razón del título. No sé si soy muy ignorante, o el autor es muy culto, pero de su explicación sobre el título no le entendí prácticamente nada...

En fin, reseña completa más adelante.

Ούτε υπάρχουν, ούτε και χρειάζονται μεγάλα λόγια, για να αποδώσεις σε δυο-τρεις γραμμές το δέος που ένιωσες διαβάζοντας, μερικές δεκαετίες πριν (ήμουν δεν ήμουν δεκαπέντε ετών), για τα τρομερά μυστικά και τα ασίγαστα πάθη κάποιων Βενεδικτίνων μοναχών στο ζοφερό περιβάλλον ενός ιταλικού μοναστηριού του δεκάτου τετάρτου αιώνα.

Κι ενώ, γενικώς, η θαμπάδα του χρόνου που κύλησε έκτοτε δεν άφησε πίσω της παρά θολές αναμνήσεις, τίποτε δεν είναι πιο ξεκάθαρο μέσα μου από εκείνη την αίσθηση, που με συντρόφευε όλο το διάστημα που κρατούσα στα χέρια μου το μνημειώδες αυτό έργο του  Umberto Eco, και την οποία σήμερα με ευκολία ανακαλώ, ότι, "φίλε μου, αυτό δεν είναι ένα ακόμη βιβλίο που διάβασες, αλλά το πρώτο από τα αληθινά σπουδαία βιβλία που θα διαβάσεις ποτέ".