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Murder mystery/philosophical and theological debate set in a labyrinthine library? Yes please!
A cursory glance at the reviews for Eco’s most famous work shows that people seem to either love or hate “The Name of the Rose”. I can definitely see how it’s not a book for everyone: the writing can feel pompous, with Eco working his best to emulate the medieval writing style such a manuscript would have been written in, the sometimes confusing time markers, the random Latin or French bits, the long monologues about Christian philosophy and the endless theological lectures. But I am a huge nerd and I liked all that weird stuff! I’ll admit that I rolled my eyes at the John XXII bashing (he tricked the conclave into electing him pope by pretending to be dying and then made their lives a living hell for over twenty years, he’s my hero!) but I did not find the writing particularly heavy and I simply loved the way William of Baskerville uses his rather modern methods and ideas to argue with the monks of the nameless abbey where he was sent to investigate. I’m also very interested in that historical period, having devoured the “Accursed Kings” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) series many times. My enjoyment was further amplified by the obvious but delightful references/homage to my original man-crush, the one and only Sherlock Holmes.
Eco introduces his story with the device of the found manuscript: the narrator, Adso, was just a novice monk when the events he put on the page took place, but now, in his old age, he feels the need to tell the story of how his master, an unusual monk by the name of William of Baskerville, solved the strange deaths that plagued a Tuscan monastery over the course of a very strange week. Called at first to shed light on how a body could have been pushed out of the monastery’s famous library, Baskerville and his scribe are soon caught up in a mystery involving many dead bodies and a debate about the poverty of Christ.
If I tell you that this book is stuffed with symbolism, I don’t think that it will come as a shock, but hot damn, any author who wants to play around with symbolism better heed this masterwork (i.e. Dan Brown can eat Eco’s shorts)! But it is truly amazing to find a book that blends the mystery so well with the historical description of every detail of life encountered by Adso, deep reflections on the nature of language and human behavior, and the theological reasons behind schisms between the various religious communities of the 14th century. Yes, it would have made for a more reader-friendly novel if only some damn footnotes had been inserted here and there, but I actually thought that there were more than enough context clues to make sense of everything that was going on.
And despite the rather heavy subject matter, it is a very readable book! My biggest worry was that I would have to be very caffeinated to enjoy it, but really, the pacing is perfect and Adso’s narrative blends the 14th-century ideas with William’s logic and strong perspective in a way that keeps the reader engaged – if only so that they can sigh about how little things have changed in eight hundred years. Also, it is surprisingly funny! Not in a slapstick kind of way, but more in an absurdist way, because of the cyclical nature of history, the spiritual struggles that haven’t changed a bit since then, and the way some of the symbols we hold sacred can actually be really weird! There is a lot to unwrap in “The Name of the Rose”, but the themes explored by Eco that really stuck me were, among others, the idea that people who share a basic philosophy can allow themselves to be divided by tiny details (the poverty of Christ, whether or not he laughed), that those who often look most holy are also the most dangerous, fuelled as they are by their own rigid righteousness, the censorship and restriction of knowledge for fear that it would change people’s minds, or encourage them to think for themselves. Those themes are also strikingly contemporary and relevant. And of course, the love of books! Eco was obviously book-mad, in the best possible way, and his love of books of all kinds is palpable in his descriptions of the library and its content, the loving ways monks talk about their work, and the passionate speeches Baskerville makes about their meaning.
Sure, it’s an intimidating book, but I found it a deeply satisfying one, a richly constructed and technically almost perfect novel (“almost” because of one scene of pure male-fantasy fulfillment that made me roll my eyes, as I am not sure it was entirely necessary...). Highly recommended!
A cursory glance at the reviews for Eco’s most famous work shows that people seem to either love or hate “The Name of the Rose”. I can definitely see how it’s not a book for everyone: the writing can feel pompous, with Eco working his best to emulate the medieval writing style such a manuscript would have been written in, the sometimes confusing time markers, the random Latin or French bits, the long monologues about Christian philosophy and the endless theological lectures. But I am a huge nerd and I liked all that weird stuff! I’ll admit that I rolled my eyes at the John XXII bashing (he tricked the conclave into electing him pope by pretending to be dying and then made their lives a living hell for over twenty years, he’s my hero!) but I did not find the writing particularly heavy and I simply loved the way William of Baskerville uses his rather modern methods and ideas to argue with the monks of the nameless abbey where he was sent to investigate. I’m also very interested in that historical period, having devoured the “Accursed Kings” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) series many times. My enjoyment was further amplified by the obvious but delightful references/homage to my original man-crush, the one and only Sherlock Holmes.
Eco introduces his story with the device of the found manuscript: the narrator, Adso, was just a novice monk when the events he put on the page took place, but now, in his old age, he feels the need to tell the story of how his master, an unusual monk by the name of William of Baskerville, solved the strange deaths that plagued a Tuscan monastery over the course of a very strange week. Called at first to shed light on how a body could have been pushed out of the monastery’s famous library, Baskerville and his scribe are soon caught up in a mystery involving many dead bodies and a debate about the poverty of Christ.
If I tell you that this book is stuffed with symbolism, I don’t think that it will come as a shock, but hot damn, any author who wants to play around with symbolism better heed this masterwork (i.e. Dan Brown can eat Eco’s shorts)! But it is truly amazing to find a book that blends the mystery so well with the historical description of every detail of life encountered by Adso, deep reflections on the nature of language and human behavior, and the theological reasons behind schisms between the various religious communities of the 14th century. Yes, it would have made for a more reader-friendly novel if only some damn footnotes had been inserted here and there, but I actually thought that there were more than enough context clues to make sense of everything that was going on.
And despite the rather heavy subject matter, it is a very readable book! My biggest worry was that I would have to be very caffeinated to enjoy it, but really, the pacing is perfect and Adso’s narrative blends the 14th-century ideas with William’s logic and strong perspective in a way that keeps the reader engaged – if only so that they can sigh about how little things have changed in eight hundred years. Also, it is surprisingly funny! Not in a slapstick kind of way, but more in an absurdist way, because of the cyclical nature of history, the spiritual struggles that haven’t changed a bit since then, and the way some of the symbols we hold sacred can actually be really weird! There is a lot to unwrap in “The Name of the Rose”, but the themes explored by Eco that really stuck me were, among others, the idea that people who share a basic philosophy can allow themselves to be divided by tiny details (the poverty of Christ, whether or not he laughed), that those who often look most holy are also the most dangerous, fuelled as they are by their own rigid righteousness, the censorship and restriction of knowledge for fear that it would change people’s minds, or encourage them to think for themselves. Those themes are also strikingly contemporary and relevant. And of course, the love of books! Eco was obviously book-mad, in the best possible way, and his love of books of all kinds is palpable in his descriptions of the library and its content, the loving ways monks talk about their work, and the passionate speeches Baskerville makes about their meaning.
Sure, it’s an intimidating book, but I found it a deeply satisfying one, a richly constructed and technically almost perfect novel (“almost” because of one scene of pure male-fantasy fulfillment that made me roll my eyes, as I am not sure it was entirely necessary...). Highly recommended!