Eco: Foucalt's Pendulum eco foucault (highly illogical behavior txt) 📖

notarikon therabbis carried with them as they fled through the plains of Europe.Astronomy and clocks and robots. Dangerous to linger among thesenew revelations. I was penetrating to the heart of a secret messagein the form of a rationalist theatrum. But I had to hurry. Later,between closing time and midnight, I could explore them, objectsthat in the slanted light of sunset assumed their trueaspect¡Xsymbols, not instruments.

I went upstairs, walked through the halls ofthe crafts, of energy, electricity. No place to hide here, not inthese cases. I began to guess their meaning, but suddenly I wasgripped by the fear that there would not be time to find a placefrom which I could witness the nocturnal revelation of their secretpurpose. Now I moved like a man pursued¡Xpursued by the clock, bythe ghastly advance of numbers. The earth turned, inexorably, thehour was approaching. In a little while I would be kicked out.

Crossing the exhibit of electrical devices, Icame to the hall of glass. By what logic had they decided that themost advanced and expensive gadgetry of the modern mind should befollowed by a section devoted to an art known to the Phoeniciansthousands of years ago? A jumble of a room, Chinese porcelainalongside androgynous vases of Lalique, poteries, majolica,faience, and Murano, and in an enormous case in the rear, life-sizeand three-dimensional, a lion attacked by a serpent. The apparentreason for this piece was its medium, that it was made entirely ofglass; but there had to be a deeper reason. Where had I seen thisfigure before? Then I remembered that the Demiurge, Yaldabaoth, thefirst Archon, odious creation of Sophia, who was responsible forthe world and its fatal flaw, had the form of a serpent and of alion, and that his eyes cast fire. Perhaps the whole Conservatoirewas an image of the vile process by which, through the eons, thefullness of the first principle, the Pendulum, and the splendor ofthe Plerome give way, by which the Ogdoades crumbles and Evil rulesin the cosmic realm. If so, then the serpent and lion were tellingme that my initiatory journey¡Xa rebours, alas¡Xwas already over,and that soon I would see the world anew, not as it should be, butas it is.

Near a window in the right-hand corner, Inoticed the sentry box of the periscope. I entered it and foundmyself facing a glass plate, as on the bridge of a ship, andthrough it I saw shifting images of a film, blurred; a scene of acity. What I saw was projected from a screen above my head, whereeverything was upside down, and this second screen was theeyepiece, as it were, of a primitive periscope made of two packingcases arranged in an obtuse angle. The longer case stuck out like apipe from the cubicle above and behind me, reaching a higherwindow, from which a set of wide-angle lenses gathered the lightfrom outside. Calculating the route I had followed, coming up here,I realized that the periscope gave me a view of the outside as if Iwere looking through a window in the upper part of the apse ofSaint-Martin¡Xas if I were swaying there with the Pendulum, like ahanged man, taking his last look. After my eyes adjusted to thepale scene, I could make out rue Vaucanson, which the choiroverlooked, and rue Conte, on a line with the nave. Rue Conte splitinto rue Montgolfier to the left and rue de 1rbigo to the right. There were a couple of bars at thecorners, Le Weekend and La Rotonde, and opposite them a fa?ade witha sign that I could just barely discern: LES CREATIONSJACSAM.

The periscope. There wasno real reason it should be in the hall of glass rather than in thehall of optical instruments, but obviously it was important forthis particular view of the outside to be in this particular place.But important how? Why should this cubicle, sopositivist-scientific, a thing out of Verne, stand beside theemblematic lion and serpent?

In any case, if I hadthe strength and the courage to stay here for another half hour orso, the night watchman might not see me.

And so I remainedunderwater for what seemed a very long time. I heard the footstepsof the last of the visitors, then the footsteps of the last guards.I was tempted to crouch under the bridge to elude a possible randomglance inside, but decided against it. If they discovered mestanding, I could pretend I was an enthusiast who had lingered toenjoy the marvel.

Later, the lights wentout, and the hall was shrouded in semi-darkness. But the cubicleseemed less dark now, illuminated as it was by the screen. I staredsteadily at it, my last contact with the world.

The best course was tostay on my feet¡Xif my feet ached too much, then in a crouch, forat least two hours. Closing time for visitors was not the same asquitting time for the employees. I was seized by sudden fear:Suppose the cleaning staff started going through all the rooms,inch by inch. But then I remembered: the museum opened late in themorning, so the cleaners probably worked by daylight and not in theevening. And that must have been the case, at least in the upperrooms, because I heard no one else pass by, only distant voices andan occasional louder sound, perhaps of doors closing. I stoodstill. There would be plenty of time for me to get back to thechurch between ten and eleven, or even later. The Masters would notcome until close to midnight.

A group of young peopleemerged from La Rotonde. A girl walked along rue Conte and turnedinto rue Montgolfier. Not a very busy neighborhood. Would I be ableto hold out, watching the humdrum world behind my back for hours onend? Shouldn't I try to guess the secret of the periscope'slocation here? I felt the need to urinate. Ignore it: a nervousreaction.

So many things runthrough your mind when you're hiding alone inside a periscope. Thismust be how a stowaway feels, concealed in a ship's hold,emigrating to some far-off land. To the Statue of Liberty, in fact,with the diorama of New York. I might grow drowsy, doze; maybe thatwould be good. No, then I