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

Tell him I'm not keepingtabs on any of you. The fact is, I have a dirty job, and mymisfortune is that I enjoy it."

As I went home, I askedmyself who had come out ahead. He had told me a number of things;I'd told him nothing. If I wanted to be suspicious, I could thinkperhaps that he had got something out of me without my being awareof it. But if you're too suspicious, you fall into the psychosis ofsynarchic plots.

When I told Lia aboutthis episode, she said: "If you ask me, he was sincere. He reallydid want to get it all off his chest. You think he can find anyoneat police headquarters who will listen to him wonder whether JeanneCanudo was right-wing or left? He only wanted to find out if it'shis fault he can't understand it or if the whole thing is toodifficult. And you weren't able to give him the one trueanswer.''

"The one trueanswer?"

"Of course. That there'snothing to understand. Synarchy is God."

"God?"

"Yes. Mankind can'tendure the thought that the world was born by chance, by mistake,just because four brainless atoms bumped into one another on aslippery highway. So a cosmic plot has to be found¡XGod, angels,devils. Synarchy performs the same function on a lesserscale."

"Then I should have toldhim that people put bombs on trains because they're looking forGod?" "Why not?"

54

The prince of darknessis a gentleman.

¡XShakespeare, KingLear, III, iv

It was autumn. Onemorning I went to Via Marchese Gualdi, because I had to get SignerGaramond's authorization to order some color photographs fromabroad. I glimpsed Aglie in Si-gnora Grazia's office, bent over thefile of Manutius authors, but I didn't disturb him, because I waslate for my meeting.

When our business wasover, I asked Signor Garamond what Aglie was doing in thesecretary's office.

"The man's a genius,"Garamond said. "An extraordinary mind, keen, learned. The otherevening, I took him to dinner with some of our authors, and he mademe look great. What conversation! What style! A gentleman of theold school, an aristocrat; they've thrown away the mold. Whatknowledge, what culture¡Xno, more, what information! He tolddelightful anecdotes about characters of a century ago, and I swearit was as if he had known them personally. Do you want to hear theidea he gave me as we were going home? He said we shouldn't justsit and wait for Isis Unveiled authors to turn up on their own.It's a waste of time and effort to read when you don't even knowwhether the authors are willing to underwrite the expenses.Instead, we have a gold mine at our disposal: the list of all theManutius authors of the last twenty years! You understand? We writeto our old, glorious authors, or at least the ones who bought uptheir remainders, and we say to them: Dear sir, are you aware thatwe have inaugurated a series of works of erudition, tradition, andthe highest spirituality? Would you, as an author of distinctionand refinement, be interested in venturing into this terraincognita, et cetera, et cetera? A genius, I tell you. I believe hewants us all to join him Sunday evening. Plans to take us to acastle, a fortress¡Xno, more, a villa in the Turin area. It seemsthat extraordinary things are to happen there, a rite, a sabbath,where someone will make gold or quicksilver. It's a whole world tobe discovered, my dear Casaubon, even if, as you know, I have thegreatest respect for science, the science to which you are devotingyourself with such passion. Indeed, I am very, very pleased withyour work, and yes, there's that little financial adjustment youmentioned; I haven't forgotten it, and in due course we'll talkabout it. Aglie told me the lady will also be there, the beautifullady¡Xor perhaps not beautiful, but attractive; there's somethingabout her eyes¡Xthat friend of Bel-bo's¡Xwhat's hername¡X?"

"LorenzaPellegrini."

"Yes. There'ssomething¡Xno?¡Xbetween her and our Belbo."

"I believe they're goodfriends."

"Ah! A gentleman'sanswer. Bravo, Casaubon. But I do not inquire out of idlecuriosity; the fact is that I feel like a father to all of youand...glissons, a la guerre comme a la guerre...Good-bye, dearboy."

We really did have anappointment with Aglie in the hills near Turin, Belbo told me. Adouble appointment. The early hours of the evening would be a partyin the castle of a very well-to-do Rosicrucian. Then Aglie wouldtake us a few kilometers away, to a place where¡Xat midnight,naturally¡Xsome kind of druidic rite, Belbo wasn't sure what, wouldbe held.

"I was also thinking,"Belbo added, "that we should sit down somewhere and give somethought to our history of metals, because here we keep beinginterrupted. Why don't we leave Saturday and spend a couple of daysin my old house in ***? It's a beautiful spot; you'll see, thehills are worth it. Diotallevi is coming, and maybe Lorenza will,too. Of course you can bring along anyone you want."

He didn't know Lia, buthe knew I had a companion. I said I'd come alone. Lia and I hadquarreled two days before. Nothing serious; it would be forgottenin a few days, but meanwhile I wanted to get away fromMilan.

So we all went to ***,the Garamond trio and Lorenza Pellegrini. At our departure, a tensemoment. When it came time to get into the car, Lorenza said, "MaybeI'll stay behind, so you three can work in peace. I'll join youlater with Simon."

Belbo, both hands on thewheel, locked his elbows, stared straight ahead, and said in a lowvoice, "Get in." Lorenza got in, and all through the trip, sittingup front, she kept her hand on the back of Belbo's neck as he drovein silence.

* * *was still the town Belbo had known duringthe war. But new houses were few, he told us, agriculture was indecline, because the young people had migrated to the city. Hepointed to hills, now pasture, that had once been yellow withgrain. The town appeared suddenly, after a curve at the foot of thelow hill where Belbo's house was. We got a view, beyond it, of theMon-ferrato plain, covered with a light, luminous mist. As the carclimbed, Belbo directed our attention to the hill opposite, almostcompletely bare: at the top of it, a chapel flanked by two pines."It's called the Bricco," he said, then