The Name of the Rose (Helen and Kurt Wolff Books) [Englisch] [Gebundene Ausgabe]

It may take the passage of time to answer the question in the title of this review but, for myself, the answer is a resounding "Yes". I have read and re-read this amazing book so many times that I have lost count! I admire the work on many levels, the least important being its guise as a mystery. I believe it can be interepreted in many different ways because it has so much to offer. In my opinion it is actually a book about books and their influence through history and ultimately about the censorship of the ideas found in books. Fear of ideas and books is at the heart of the murders and is the reason for the ultimate catastrophe -- the burning of the monastery library. Jorge de Burgos takes upon himself the role of censor and the logical outcome of his worldview is murder and destruction. (Echoes of Nazism, perhaps?) It is also a book about the effects ideas have when lived out in people's lives, how a good idea, such as St. Francis' love of poverty, can become twisted by fanaticism. It is also filled with a sly sense of humor (the resemblance of the William of Baskerville/Adso duo to Sherlock Holmes/Dr. Watson is one example). As an art historian I was highly amused to read St. Bernard of Clairvaux's condemnation of the artistic milieux of the Abbey of Cluny quoted just where it ought to be, as a commentary on the decoration of the abbey church. Also amusing is the idea of this fictional monastery as a microcosm of the emerging European Union, with representative monks from many countries on hand. The scholarly debates have much to say to our contemporary world, for, at their base, they are often still current. However, I do agree with some of the criticisms expressed about the lack of explanatory notes. For those without the necessary background in languages and a reasonably good knowledge of medieval history it may indeed by a tough book to get involved in, as I have found in the case of friends to whom I have recommended the book. But for anyone with that knowledge, and for those without it who are willing to persevere, this has to be one of the greatest books written in the 20th century, if not the greatest. It is certainly the most magical.

It is November, 1327. Adso of Melk, the narrator, has accompanied William of Baskerville to a remote, wealthy Franciscan abbey in the mountains of northern Italy. Upon arriving, William discovers that a murder has taken place and the body of the monk, Adelmo, has been discovered outside the abbey walls. The abbot, Abo, is very concerned and charges William with solving the murders. For, not only is the safety of the monks in jeopardy, a papal delegation from Pope John XXII in Avignon could well use the murders as an excuse for investigating the abbey, something Abo definitely wants to avoid. By the time the papal delegation, led by two inquisitors arrives, the situation at the abbey has worsened. Two more monks are dead and two more die soon afterward. The abbot's worst fears are realized when the papal inquisitors learn he has been sheltering monks who were once followers of the condemed heretic, Fra Dolcino. Although the abott dismisses Willliam, he remains and a few hours later, the mystery is solved, two more monks have died and the monastery has been consumed by fire. The Name of the Rose is first and foremost a mystery of the highest order, and it is possible to enjoy it on that level alone. But it is also a charming roman a clef, something I think many readers have missed. We don't have to look far to realize Sherlock Holmes in the guise of William of Baskerville or Adso as Dr. Watson. The blind Spaniard, Jorge of Burgos is easily recognized as the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges. Eco also challenges us by thinly disguising figures from postwar Italian politics as various other members of the abbey. The figures in the book thus correspond to other figures in different books or in real life. Each figure also represents a metaphysical concept: William, reason; Adso, mysticism; Jorge, evil, and then, in true medieval fashion, characters are thus pitted one against the other as opposing forces. I hate to see comparisons of this marvelous work of literature to Iain Pears's, An Instance of the Fingerpost. The books are as unlike as night is to day. While An Instance of the Fingerpost goes to great lengths to point out that ultimate truth does exist and can, indeed, be realized, The Name of the Rose is, at its heart, a book about uncertainty, especially the uncertainty of truth. In An Instance of the Fingerpost, the reader is asked to interpret a collection of signs and symbols, which, when interpreted in the one correct manner, will inevitably lead to the identity and motive of the criminal, i.e., the truth. In The Name of the Rose, the search for ultimate truth is far more ambiguous. Near the end of the book, William tells Adso that many hypotheses, false though they may be, can still lead one to a correct solution. And, while certainty is what's pursued in An Instance of the Fingerpost, certainty remains an impossibility in The Name of the Rose. As William says to Adso, "The only truth lies in learning to free ourselves from the insane passion for the truth." Umberto Eco's strength lies in his plotting and his layering. His books are like a collection of boxes, each one opening to reveal yet another and another. I found no such layering in An Instance of the Fingerpost. And, finally, while An Instance of the Fingerpost was certainly a phenomenon, The Name of the Rose is definitely much more. This book is literature, a timeless classic to be enjoyed by many generations yet to come.

The book was first recommended to me in the late 1970's (by my dermotologist!). I read it then and many times since. Eco captured me and has me forever looking for his name on a book. Many say the book is too difficult to read, too many "things" to know, that may be, bit whoever said that reading was an easy task. The book (as all of Eco's books do) makes you think, recall, learn and argue points of intellectual importance. Is the book of humour a metaphor, or is it just plain old 11th century Italian Jansenism? I recommend the book, as I do all of Eco's books, with the following cavet, don't read this as you would a grocery store romance, your mind will have to work!