I finished now some days the new work of Umberto Eco. A brick, if you stop to his "three-dimensional," something more if you think the content and manner, of course, masterful, in which it is written. All in all, however, rejected. Eco writes, but the problem is that one knows. Row after row seems to be from time to time, but fell in the role of a Machiavellian character unsympathetic and as few (almost as much a present-day Northern League), a pedantic tone of a crescendo. The book stops suddenly, almost as if someone had played a tear the last few pages. Perhaps an editor a bit 'tired after more than 500 pages of anecdotes late nineteenth century?
not matter. The fact is that, from one line to another, taking care not to forget in vain, none of the countless characters in this historical novel, I noticed a page full of anything but a dispassionate concealed anti-Semitism. The report here, if only because it reminds me of a picture.
"Who is to forge documents should always read up, and that's why I attended the libraries. The libraries are charming: sometimes it seems to be on the platform of a railway station and to consult the books about exotic lands, the impression is to travel to distant shores. So I happened to find a book on some great recordings of the Jewish cemetery in Prague. now abandoned, there were nearly twelve thousand gravestones in a very narrow space, but burials were to be many more because, in the course of several centuries, many layers of earth were were superimposed. After the cemetery was abandoned someone had raised a number of tombs buried with their stones, so that was created as a mass of irregular stones mortuary tilted in all directions (or perhaps to impose the Jews were so regardless, foreign they were in every sense of beauty and order). That place is now abandoned
I agreed, for its incongruity: what cunning Jesuits had decided to meet in a place that was sacred to the Jews? And what control they had forgotten all about that place, and perhaps inaccessible? All unanswered questions, which would have given credibility to the story because we believe that White believed firmly believe that, when all the facts seem quite plausible and explicable, then the story is false.
As a good reader of Dumas, sorry I did not make that night, and that banquet, dark and frightening, with burial that field, just lit by a crescent moon intisichita, and the Jesuits in a semicircle so that, seen from above, because of their broad-brimmed hats from blacks, the ground seemed swarming with cockroaches. "
Umberto Eco
Cemetery Prague
Page 121
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