I remember reading an essay by Eco himself in a foreward of the same book.
He wrote it was pointless to ask the author the meaning and purpose of their artwork, since when the artwork is out in the word, it does not belong to the author anymore, but to anyone that reads it, as well as its meaning (to the point of suggesting that the author should "die" after publishing, so that every reader could find their own meaning in their work).
Daphne du Maurice once said that writers should be read and not seen. I always took this to be what she meant, as well. That a writer's job is not to loom like a guardian figure over their work but to let it be read. And however it was read was how it was read.
This publication spoke to me, primarily because I, too, was raised by an intensely religious grandfather AND father both--it's easy for them to wake up much earlier than I ever could just so they could read Liturgy of The Hours in private!
The path I walked in their stead is... weird... but even then I never lost that high-sense of wonder that they had. My upcoming Sci-Fi novel is _awash_ with mythological symbolisms and spiritualities for this exact reason!
Also, hi, welcome to Substack, Ms. Layne! Your Youtube video about Plot Twist being a Hidden Narrative Line helped me a lot. I'll be sure to watch your move on this platform with great interest.
You certainly were in a unique, even privileged, position in respect to "The Name of the Rose" that allowed you to see William of Baskerville from the perspective of Adso and the Benedictine monks. I was curious if the ending of the novel, where it's revealed that William was barking up the wrong tree all along by assuming that the book on Venantius's desk was an overarching formal cause of all the deaths, and his investigations only succeed in burning down the library and the monastery with it, affected your view of William and the story at all.
This reminds me very much of several conversations I had with friends after my father's death. They asked if I had ever felt my faith challenged by the contradictions he espoused later in life. I said no. It took me a long time to understand why. In the end, while William and Adso are watching the library burn, William is depressed and despondent. Adso had never seen him so melancholy or pessimistic. But he was misinterpreting William. His learned master uttered several variations on: "In the end, after all the learning, one has to proceed on one's own power." He refers to truth as a ladder used to climb up, but which must then be pushed away. In the end, all libraries burn. In the end, we have to be able to think for ourselves, and not like the abbot with his bookcase for a head. Which is why it is so important to train and govern our minds. Sometimes we're wrong, but that doesn't mean that everything we ever learned is also wrong. We're humans with free will and the ability to train our reason. We'll be wrong sometimes. We just have to keep climbing. Of course William was depressed at the loss of the library. But that was because he had made a mistake, and not because the entire moral and intellectual fiber of his being was constructed in error. That is the danger of thinking for oneself, sometimes mistakes will be made. But that, too, cannot undermine one's faith in Truth. Also, just because one takes it upon himself to train his mind and think for himself, that doesn't mean he's immune from error.
I also found it interesting that he drew a comparison between the destroyer of the library and the antichrist. He was driven insane by his reliance on the written words to direct truth. His reliance was so aberrant that he believed a written falsehood would be indistinguishable from the truth, and so he sought to destroy all of them, even the beautiful and true ones if only to destroy possible falsehood. And by doing so he would only prevent others from learning the truth themselves, and also force all those who sought the truth to submit to blind obedience to some random authority.
I loved reading this. The Eco novel that helped my awakening from faith was Foucault's Pendulum. I was struck by the realization that my church was more impressed by the occult than the divine, and Eco's argument that martyrdom was a sign of stubbornness, not necessarily truth.
Thanks for sharing this.
I remember reading an essay by Eco himself in a foreward of the same book.
He wrote it was pointless to ask the author the meaning and purpose of their artwork, since when the artwork is out in the word, it does not belong to the author anymore, but to anyone that reads it, as well as its meaning (to the point of suggesting that the author should "die" after publishing, so that every reader could find their own meaning in their work).
Your story proves it's true ❤️
Daphne du Maurice once said that writers should be read and not seen. I always took this to be what she meant, as well. That a writer's job is not to loom like a guardian figure over their work but to let it be read. And however it was read was how it was read.
This publication spoke to me, primarily because I, too, was raised by an intensely religious grandfather AND father both--it's easy for them to wake up much earlier than I ever could just so they could read Liturgy of The Hours in private!
The path I walked in their stead is... weird... but even then I never lost that high-sense of wonder that they had. My upcoming Sci-Fi novel is _awash_ with mythological symbolisms and spiritualities for this exact reason!
Also, hi, welcome to Substack, Ms. Layne! Your Youtube video about Plot Twist being a Hidden Narrative Line helped me a lot. I'll be sure to watch your move on this platform with great interest.
Hello, and thank you for the welcome! I'm glad my video could help you so much. Good luck with your novel!
You certainly were in a unique, even privileged, position in respect to "The Name of the Rose" that allowed you to see William of Baskerville from the perspective of Adso and the Benedictine monks. I was curious if the ending of the novel, where it's revealed that William was barking up the wrong tree all along by assuming that the book on Venantius's desk was an overarching formal cause of all the deaths, and his investigations only succeed in burning down the library and the monastery with it, affected your view of William and the story at all.
This reminds me very much of several conversations I had with friends after my father's death. They asked if I had ever felt my faith challenged by the contradictions he espoused later in life. I said no. It took me a long time to understand why. In the end, while William and Adso are watching the library burn, William is depressed and despondent. Adso had never seen him so melancholy or pessimistic. But he was misinterpreting William. His learned master uttered several variations on: "In the end, after all the learning, one has to proceed on one's own power." He refers to truth as a ladder used to climb up, but which must then be pushed away. In the end, all libraries burn. In the end, we have to be able to think for ourselves, and not like the abbot with his bookcase for a head. Which is why it is so important to train and govern our minds. Sometimes we're wrong, but that doesn't mean that everything we ever learned is also wrong. We're humans with free will and the ability to train our reason. We'll be wrong sometimes. We just have to keep climbing. Of course William was depressed at the loss of the library. But that was because he had made a mistake, and not because the entire moral and intellectual fiber of his being was constructed in error. That is the danger of thinking for oneself, sometimes mistakes will be made. But that, too, cannot undermine one's faith in Truth. Also, just because one takes it upon himself to train his mind and think for himself, that doesn't mean he's immune from error.
I also found it interesting that he drew a comparison between the destroyer of the library and the antichrist. He was driven insane by his reliance on the written words to direct truth. His reliance was so aberrant that he believed a written falsehood would be indistinguishable from the truth, and so he sought to destroy all of them, even the beautiful and true ones if only to destroy possible falsehood. And by doing so he would only prevent others from learning the truth themselves, and also force all those who sought the truth to submit to blind obedience to some random authority.
This one hit close to home.
Thank you.
Thank you for reading it!
I loved reading this. The Eco novel that helped my awakening from faith was Foucault's Pendulum. I was struck by the realization that my church was more impressed by the occult than the divine, and Eco's argument that martyrdom was a sign of stubbornness, not necessarily truth.