I find amusing that both Ubertino and Jorge - the oldest monks who have seen decades of church life come and go - as they encounter the unsettling changes and heretical movements that threaten the power of the church, speak dramatically and strongly about the "last days." How many elderly members of churches have we met like this? As culture changes, they are unsettled by the evil in the world around them and grumpy or puzzled by the new developments. Thus they become fascinated with pointing out how the events of today are signs of Christ's second coming.
The transition of Western Culture from the Dark Ages to the Modern Age is truly an interesting time period in which to demonstrate the merits of post-modernism...
William points out to Ubertino that the stories he holds to as evidence of the error of the heretics he tried are recycled stories used to accuse groups in the past, showing how easily truth can be mixed with error (by those accusing heretics as well as the heretics), and how the stories, whether true or not, were used by those in power to accomplish their ends. The system in which they lived was built on stories constructed by the heirarchy for their convenience, but William refuses to continue this approach to establishing truth. He would rather not make a judgment at all then decide on something he is unsure about.
The labyrinth of the library is clearly a central and powerful symbol to the entire book. Only a select few who were handpicked by their successors know how to locate the resources and knowledge contained at one of the greatest libraries in the "Christian" world. The knowledge is guarded from those who "cannot handle it" by ominous, otherwordly threats, mystical (and perhaps mythical) forces, and powerful threats. Even among the monks, supposedly pious people with high status and education, a heirarchy of information is strictly enforced.
Now that I have the quote in front of me, I must restate my appreciation for Eco's delicious description of the tale as "immeasurably remote in time...gloriously lacking in any relevance for our day, atemporally alien to our hopes and our certainties." He relishes the beauty of literature and the joy of books with a note of contempt for overplayed pragmatism.
The prologue contains a very telling statement: "...I have not completely understood how he (William) could have such faith in his friend from Occam and at the same time swear by the words of Bacon, as he was accustomed to doing." Is it possible to take good elements from two seemingly contradictory schools of thought? Isn't the world black and white, good and bad, right and wrong, full of polar extremes? Apparently not...
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I reread the introduction to the book and I have to admit I am very confused! How much of this book is Eco's original work? How much is his translation? Is this a story he found and rewrote and reworked? Or is it mostly a translation? I sincerely doubt that this is just a translation of a 14th century novel! The ideas expressed throughout the book would not be found in the 14th century. He said he didnt even have the book anymore, just notes he had taken on the book. Is it just me or is this very confusing?!
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