Rule--"...three things concur in creating beauty
(1)integrity or perfection
(2)proper proportion or consonance
(3)clarity and light"
Cause-"...sight of the beautiful imnplies peace
...appetite is calmed similarly by peacefulness, by the
good, and by the beautiful"
Result-"...how pleasant it must be to work in that place
[aedificium]."
However, as evidenced by the data given by the monks regarding the
lack of freedom in reading certain books in the
aedificium, Adso's claim is true only for him. Eco clarifies by stating
on page 204 in the book he edited with Thomas A.
Sebeok, The Sign of Three: "So, even in cases in which the rule
is evident, and the inference concerns the case, a
hypothesis is never a matter of certitude." William of Baskerville as a
detective, has the freedom in the remainder of the book to prove or
disprove Eco's statement.
Malachi of Hildesheim (p. 73): [Judith Bessinger comments]
Eco has Malachi the librarian leading William and Adso through the library
until the moment when they meet a very old and wise monk named Jorge of
Burgos. Malachi's name is a reference to the last Biblical prophet, Malachi, who will
perform the final miracle before the great and terrible day of the coming of
the Messiah: And he shall reconcile the hearts of sons to fathers" (Malachi
3:24)
Malachi of Hildesheim . . . "tall and extremely thin, with large and awkward limbs...."
(p. 73) [Holly Spuckler comments] Adso makes several references to Malachi's
melancholic visage, which reveals "a certain suffering quality" as
"Sadness and severity predominated in the lines of his face."
This description of the scholarly librarian coincides with
Robert Burton's [1577-1640] "Digresson of the Misery of Scholars" in
the Anatomy of Melancholy [1621], a medical work.
Burton refers to a number of figures in history and their
contribution to the idea that the acquisition of knowledge,
especially too much of it, results in a melancholic demeanor.
Varro, for instance, calls the learned "somber and stern;
severe, sad, dry, tetrick" (Anatomy of Melancholy [New York:
Ferrar & Rinehart, 1927], p. 259). Burton also mentions that "Leonartus
Fuchsius, Felix Plater, Hercules de Saxonia, speak of a
particular fury, which comes by overmuch study.
Fernelius puts study, contemplation, and continual
meditation, as an especial cause of madness" (ibid.).
Two main reasons are given as to why the scholar is plagued
by misery. First, the life of letters is a sedentary, solitary
one. Because the scholar does not exercise enough and cannot
relate to or "unwind" as his fellow man does, he is frequently
"precipitated into this gulf" of melancholy. The common cause of this
is that "too much learning (as Festus told Paul) hath made
thee mad" (ibid., p. 260). The second reason is that
contemplation "dries the brain and extinguisheth natural heat;
for whilst the spirits are intent to meditation above in the
head, the stomach and the liver are left destitute, and thence
come black blood and crudities by defect of concoction,
and for want of exercise the superfluous vapours cannot exhale"
(ibid.).
Thus, it would be safe to assume that the longer the man
has been enmeshed in scholarly activity, the more manifest his
melancholic physiognomy. Malachi seems to be so plagued by
melancholy that even though his face "was trying to assume an
expression of welcome," Adso's instinctive reaction was
to shudder.
"The list could surely go on, and there is nothing more wonderful than a
list, instrument of wonderful hypotyposis" p. 73 [Anne Butera comments]
The list that Adso is referring to here is a list of the illuminators in
the scriptorium, "Thus I met Venantius of Salvemec… Benno of Uppsala… Aymaro
of Alesandria… and then a group of illuminators from various countries,
Patrick of Clonmacnois, Rabano of Toledo, Magnus of Iona, Waldo of Hereford"
(73). Throughout the book Adso is making his vivid description with the
help of lists. Just a few pages later, when Adso describes the creatures
illuminated by Adelmo, he does so in the form of a list: "little bird-feet
heads, animals with human hands on their back, hirsute pates from which feet
sprout, zebra-striped dragons, quadrupeds with serpentine necks twisted in a
thousand inextricable knots, monkeys with stags horns…" which continues for
more than half a page (76-77). Adso’s lists are set beside the librarian’s
"voluminous codex covered with very thickly written lists" (74). This list,
though containing the key to the library, is comprehensible only to the
librarian. The audience of this book is predetermined, just as the
audiences of the books inside the library are predeterimined. The
importance given here to lists is probably due to the fact that the Bible
itself relies heavily on lists. One passage, a list of names from early in
the Old Testament, sounds similar to Adso’s list of illuminators, "The
descendants of Japeth: Gomer, Magog, Madai, Javan, Tubal, Meshech, and
Tiras. The descendants of Gomer: Ashkenaz, Riphath, and Togarmah. The
descendants of Javan: Elishah, Tarshish, Kittim, and Rodanim" (Genesis
10:2-4). This list, with its genealogic order, is a common type of list in
the Bible, whose order is another connection to the librarian’s index. The
library index is ordered chronologically by when the books were acquired, a
genealogy of the library.
William's pince nez eye-glasses (pp. 74-75): The
most immediate source for this detail is Umberto Eco and
G. B. Zorzoli, The Picture History of Inventions, trans.
Anthony Lawrence (New York: Macmillan, 1963), pp. 10-111,
"The Development of Optics." The pince nez eyeglasses that Adso describes
appear in a picture on page 108 of this source. William's
comment that spectacles prolong the career of a scholar
beyond the age of 50 is part of Eco's and Zorzoli's discussion
at the top of page 110. Mre general is the theme of the
very gradual dissemination of spectacles in Europe. They
were first invented probably in the 13th century in Italy,
but had not yet reached the Benedictine monastery: Eco
and Zorzoli note that spectacles did not become generally
available to the merchant class until the 16th century. Beyond
the immediate theme of the technology of spectacles, and
the contrast between the pince nez style of spectacles in the
medieval period (which are based on a mistaken understanding
of optics) and the modern style of glasses which first
appear in the 15th century, there are two more general
philosophical questions:
(1) The technology of spectacles are a product of the
natural science of "optics," which for the Scholastic
philosophers was important as a basis for advances in
theology. Roger Bacon thought of optics as the most
important of all sciences and the basis of all future
progress in science.
(2) Pince nez spectacles were the forerunners of the
microscope and the telescope and thus symbolize William
of Baskerville's role as a "proto-modern" thinker, similar
in this regard to Roger Bacon and William of Occam.
"'But in what order are they listed?' He quoted from a text I did not know
. . ." (p. 75): [Marilyn Sutton comments] It is unlikely that the text which William of Baskerville
quotes (about a librarian's duties in the creation of a catalog) was
written before 1327; or perhaps it is a fictional text. There are at least
two problems with its historical accuracy: one regarding the history of
library catalogs, the other with regard to the existence of guidelines for
a librarian to follow in the creation of a catalog.
1) Library catalogs
In the Middle Ages, since "a significant part of the book-holdings in a
Benedictine library was likely to come from donations," medieval library
catalogs occasionally listed books under the names of their donors
(Lawrence, 101-102); hence, the listing that Malachi mentions, "registered
in order of their acquisition, donation, or entrance within our walls,"
would not be unusual for that time.
The principal purpose of a medieval catalog was as an inventory, a
statement of holdings to enable the collection to be checked for
completeness, a means by which an inventory of books could be taken to
ensure against loss. Because of the high cost of binding, multiple works
were frequently combined in a single volume; often the medieval "catalog"
listed only the first work. Hence, the catalog was a list, not of
individual works, but of the codices (manuscript volumes) available in the
library. The catalog was an administrative tool to aid in inventory, to
ensure against loss, and to transfer the care of books to a successor.
"Only incidently would the catalog serve to guide a user to an available
text" (Christ, 41). Few catalogs were arranged alphabetically by author's
names, as Adso points out was done later in the fourteenth century. Only
toward the end of the Middle Ages (late fifteenth century) were the first
author-title catalogs created and appended to the previously used inventory
listings.
2) Librarian duties, catalog guidelines
"There are no known examples of formal, written rules from the Middle Ages
describing how a catalog of books was to be made" (Christ, 35). We know
that the Benedictine Rule does not contain any such guidelines.
Chapter 32 specifies simply that the abbot maintain an inventory of all
the monastery's property, and
Chapter 48 only mentions books being obtained from the library for
Lenten reading.
The earliest known description of the duties of a librarian was that of
Gilduin (1113-1155), the first abbot of an Augustinian chapter in Paris.
His work gave the librarian responsibility for all books belonging to the
abbey and its church. It specified that the books be "cataloged, shelved
correctly, cared for . . . " but it is doubtful that it specified the
format or content of a catalog. "Even the late medieval books prescribing
the proper duties of librarians do not go into the manner in which the
collection should be cataloged (Christ, 36). Hence, it is unlikely that
the text, if it exists at all, was published at the time of the 1327
historical setting of The Name of the Rose.
Sources:
Christ, Karl. The Handbook of Medieval Library History. Trans. T.M. Otto.
Metuchen, New Jersey: Scarecrow Press, 1984. 20-42.
Lawrence, C.H. Medieval Monasticism. London: Longman, 1984. 101-102.
Adelmo's marginal monsters (pp. 76-77): Eco's
source for this is St. Bernard's Apologia ad Guillelmum
(chapter 12, Patrologia Latina 182:914-16), a
commentary about the monks' renunciation of the world,
which should include the renunciation of the excessive, ex
“ This was a psalter in whose margins was delineated a world reversed with
respect to the one to which our senses have been accustomed us” (76). [Gary
Ricketts comments]: Adelmo’s illustrations of marginality are both absurd
and surreal; the anomalous and unconventional characteristics of the fallen
monk’s creative work bear a similar resemblance to that of the German artist
Jheronimus Bosch. Bosch, a 15th century painter, is regarded as the
grandfather of surrealism, due to his ability to conceive, and paint images
of incongruity and marginality. His unique forte blends abstractly composed
creatures with that of religious settings that serve myriad allegorical
purposes, reflecting upon man’s apocalyptic nature, and the ever-present
destructiveness created by man.
Eco, being a medievalist, and a fan of the avant-garde, would most
definitely have some familiarity with Bosch. If, in fact, Eco is borrowing
Bosch’s style, he then is maintaining his consistency of brining apocalyptic
artists to his own apocalyptic text.
"paths of monstrosity" (p. 81): Many medieval sources
present the theme of sodomy as a sin so monstrous that it
cannot be named and must be punished with horrible tortures.
One interesting example is the Vision of the Monk of
Evesham (1197), chapter VII, "The Third Place of Punishment,"
describing a valley in hell where male and female sodomites
are tormented by firestorms and attacks by vipers, and then
raped sodomitically by fiery monsters. The 12th-century
monk of Evesham reports, "I tremble while describing it and am
confounded by the filthiness of their crime beyond measure.
Until that time I had never heard or thought of that both
sexes could have been corrupted by such filthiness. O shame!"
Then the writer adds a most interesting detail: "There was found such
an immense crowd of wretches there most pitiably to be
pities....So loud was their grief that you would have thought
all the sufferers in the world were lamenting there." Although
the monk of Evesham claims that he did not know any (or almost none)
of the sodomites, and that he had never heard of such a
crime prior to his vision, yet hell is crowded with vast
numbers of sodomites! Source: Michael Huber, ed., "Visio
monachi de Eynsham," Romanische Forschungen 16 (1904):
461-733; Valerian Paget, trans., Visio monachi de Eynsham
(New York: McBride, 1901).
"[L]aughing at little monsters with spotted skin and twisted tails!" (p. 83)
[Lee Zickel comments] As indicated by earlier marginalia, the monsters in the book that Adelmo was
working on at the time of his death are likely to be taken from the Apologia
ad Guillelmum of St. Gregory. However, the statement quoted above, made by
the venerable Jorge of Burgos, has a more duplicitous meaning. It is
possible that the source of Jorge's comment is Dante's Inferno and several
descriptions found therein. Twice in the Inferno you see language very
similar to that spoken by Jorge. The first is as Dante is preparing to begin
his journey. He meets "una lonza... che di pel macolato era coverta," "a
leopard covered with spotted hide."(Inf. I, lines 32-33.) Later, and perhaps
more poignantly, "La faccia sua era faccia d'uom giusto,/ tanto benigna avea
di fuor la pelle,/ e d'un serpente tutto l'altro fusto;/ due branche avea
pilose insin l'ascelle;/ lo dosso e 'l petto e ambedue le coste/ dipinti avea
di nodi e di rotelle." (Inf. XVII, lines 10-15.) This is the description of
Geryon, "effigy of fraud" (Inf. XVII, lines 7-8.). Translated, the lines
read, "The face he wore was that of a just man,/ so gracious was his
features' outer semblance;/ and all his trunk, the body of a serpent;/ he had
two paws, with hair up to the armpits;/ his back and chest as well as both
his flanks/ had been adorned with twining knots and circlets." (Inf. XVII,
lines 10-15.) Now, Adelmo's monsters, with "spotted skin" and "twisted
tails," seem to constitute, for Jorge, an example of fraudulence. Jorge
seems to be implying that laughter is fraud, both against one's self and
against one's God. Against oneself for the monks could "[loose] sight of the
ultimate things which they were to illustrate" (p. 81). And against God, for
"by now it is more pleasurable for a monk… to admire the works of man than to
meditate on the law of God" (p. 80).
Adso's namesake and apocalypticism (p. 83):
Adso of Montier-en-Dur
wrote Liber de Antichristo (ca. 950) in response
to widespread fear of Apocalypse that was caused partly by the approach
of the millenium, and partly by political and social
disorders (Viking invasions, black plague in Saxony,
outbreak of various heresies in France and Italy-- the
"Tenth Century Collapse" in western Europe, as some
historians call it). Ados's Liber de Antichristo
soon became the most important eschatological text in
western Europe. Adso has prophesized, among other things,
that the downfall of the Carolingian dynasty would portend
the end of the world; the Carolingian dynasty did collapse, ca. 987-991.
The best English-language study of Definition of key terms related to apocalpyticism
(2) An Apocalyptic
Dossier: 967-1033 prepared by Richard Landes
(3) An excerpts from Ralph Glaver's
Miracles de Saint-Benoit
(4) A
(5) A website devoted to postmodern millenialism.
The most immediately useful files on this website are
FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions), Glossary, and Links.
The next study page is First Day:
Vespers (pp. 84-92)