Finally I finished The Name of the Rose. I have to admit that it didn't do too much to me--it neither stirred my passion or imagination nor reveal any truth that I didn't already know (everything is a sign of everything else, books included). No doubt this book is very stylish and is a universe of its own. It is scholarly, written with a lot of pride of the author. It reads like a detective game between the author and the reader. Everything is carefully thought through, well designed, and patiently put together. The postscript confirms my impression. The whole book is like the character Brother Williams. I wouldn't say this book is without passion. I quote what Eco writes in the postscript: "After a friend of mine had read the book, she said to me, 'My only objection is that William never has a twinge of pity.' I quote this to another friend, and he said, 'That's right, that is the style of his pity.' Perhaps this is so. And so be it." So the book shows the author's passion for reasons, for the complexity of the world.

I didn't know Eco is a critic himself. Do you know what his relationship with Borges is? I read selected fictions of Borges a few years ago and was very impressed with his brilliancy.

Maybe I have enough of reasons for a while. Now I want some passion. Will Henry Miller do it for me? Or is he too proud too?

Perhaps it is a sign that I should resume writing my own.

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Actually I find myself quite disappointed about Eco's book when I think about it more. It is a book about itself. It is its own irony. The world is sad. I feel I am Brother William in the end. "The order that our mind imagines is like a net, or like a ladder, built to attain something. But afterward you must throw the ladder away, because you discover that, even if it was useful, it was meaningless." Yes, the book is a ladder and now I have discovered it was meaningless. "The only truths that are useful are instruments to be thrown away."

So I am irritated with my re-discovery. :( Or maybe I am just frustrated? Why? I am unsatisfied, intellectually. What's going on? And is there a way out? Can someone or something catch me out there so I won't fall, or fall further?

I need a vacuum cleaner and I will go to get one now. And I will learn about methane on Mars.

Balance. Perhaps balance will save me.

-- email excerpts to JA