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as if afraid of giving toomuch importance to the statement, he said, "And there's thePendulum."

"Whatpendulum?"

"The Pendulum.Foucault's Pendulum."

And he described it tome, just as I saw it two days ago, Saturday. Maybe I saw it the wayI saw it because Belbo had prepared me for the sight. But at thetime I must not have shown much enthusiasm, because Belbo looked atme as if I were a man who, seeing the Sistine Chapel, asks: Is thisall?

"It may be theatmosphere¡Xthat it's in a church¡Xbut, believe me, you feel a verystrong sensation. The idea that everything else is in motion and upabove is the only fixed point in the universe...For those who haveno faith, it's a way of finding God again, and without challengingtheir unbelief, because it is a null pole. It can be verycomforting for people of my generation, who ate disappointment forbreakfast, lunch, and dinner. ¡¥¡¥

"My generation ate evenmore disappointment."

"Don't brag. Anyway,you're wrong. For you it was just a phase. You sang the¡¥Carmagnole,' and then you all met in the Vended. For us it wasdifferent. First there was Fascism, and even if we were kids andsaw it as an adventure story, our nation's immortal destiny was afixed point. The next fixed point was the Resistance, especiallyfor people like me, who observed it from the outside and turned itinto a rite of passage, the return of spring¡Xlike an equinox or asolstice; I always get them mixed up...For some, the next thing wasGod; for some, the working class; and for many, both. Intellectualsfelt good contemplating the handsome worker, healthy, strong, readyto remake the world. And now, as you've seen for yourself, workersexist, but not the working class. Perhaps it was killed in Hungary.Then came your generation. For you personally, what happened wasnatural; it probably seemed like a holiday. But not for those myage. For us, it was a settling of scores, a time of remorse,repentance, regeneration. We had failed, and you were arriving withyour enthusiasm, courage, self-criticism. Bringing hope to us, whoby then were thirty-five or forty, hope and humiliation, but stillhope. We had to be like you, even at the price of starting overfrom the beginning. We stopped wearing ties, we threw away ourtrench coats and bought secondhand duffle coats. Some quit theirjobs rather than serve the Establishment..."

He lit a cigarette andpretended that he had only been pretending bitterness. An apologyfor letting himself go.

"And then you gave itall up. We, with our penitential pilgrimages to Buchenwald, refusedto write advertising copy for Coca-Cola because we wereantifascists. We were content to work for peanuts at Garamond,because at least books were for the people. But you, to avengeyourselves on the bourgeoisie you hadn't managed to overthrow, soldthem videocassettes and fanzines, brainwashed them with Zen and theart of motorcycle maintenance. You've made us buy, at a discount,your copies of the thought of Chairman Mao, and used the money topurchase fireworks for the celebration of the new creativity.Shamelessly. While we spent our lives being ashamed. You trickedus, you didn't represent purity; it was only adolescent acne. Youmade us feel like worms because we lacked the courage to face theBolivian militia, and you started shooting a few poor bastards inthe back while they were walking down the street. Ten years ago, wehad to lie to get you out of jail; you lied to send your friends tojail. That's why I like this machine: it's stupid, it doesn'tbelieve, it doesn't make me believe, it just does what I tell it.Stupid me, stupid machine. An honest relationship."

"But I¡X"

"You're innocent,Casaubon. You ran away instead of throwing stones, you got yourdegree, you didn't shoot anybody. Yet a few years ago I felt you,too, were blackmailing me. Nothing personal, just generationalcycles. And then last year, when I saw the Pendulum, I understoodeverything."

"Everything?"

"Almost everything. Yousee, Casaubon, even the Pendulum is a false prophet. You look atit, you think it's the only fixed point in the cosmos, but if youdetach it from the ceiling of the Conservatoire and hang it in abrothel, it works just the same. And there are other pendulums:there's one in New York, in the UN building, there's one in thescience museum in San Francisco, and God knows how many others.Wherever you put it, Foucault's Pendulum swings from a motionlesspoint while the earth rotates beneath it. Every point of theuniverse is a fixed point: all you have to do is hang the Pendulumfrom it."

"God iseverywhere?"

"In a sense, yes. That'swhy the Pendulum disturbs me. It promises the infinite, but whereto put the infinite is left to me. So it isn't enough to worshipthe Pendulum; you still have to make a decision, you have to findthe best point for it. And yet..."

"And yet?"

"And yet...You're nottaking me seriously by any chance, are you, Casaubon? No, I canrest easy; we're not the type to take things seriously...Well, as Iwas saying, the feeling you have is that you've spent a lifetimehanging the Pendulum in many places, and it's never worked, butthere, in the Conservatoire, it works...Do you think there arespecial places in the universe? On the ceiling of this room, forexample? No, nobody would believe that. You need atmosphere. Idon't know, maybe we're always looking for the right place, maybeit's within reach, but we don't recognize it. Maybe, to recognizeit, we have to believe in it. Well, let's go see SignorGaramond."

"To hang thePendulum?"

"Ah, human folly! Now wehave to be serious. If you're going to be paid, the boss must seeyou, touch you, sniff you, and say you'll do. Come and let the bosstouch you; the boss's touch heals scrofula."

38

Prince of Babylon,Knight of the Black Cross, Knight of Death, Sublime Master of theLuminous Ring, Priest of the Sun, Grand Architect, Knight of theBlack and White Eagle, Holy Royal Arch, Knight of the Phoenix,Knight of Iris, Priest of Eleusis, Knight of the GoldenFleece.

¡XHigh grades of theAncient and Accepted Scottish Rite

We walked along thecorridor, climbed three steps, went through a frosted-glass door,and abruptly entered another universe. The rooms I had seen so farwere dark, dusty, with peeling paint, but this looked like a VIPlounge at an airport. Soft music, a plush

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