Their sometimes-comic exchanges were my favorite part of the book.
They reminded me of Sherlock Holmes and Watson, or Poirot and Hastings. I wonder whether the author wanted to mimic them in the time-honored detective tradition or whether this device (the duo of sleuths, one genius, one muddling and naive) just happens to be an effective storytelling mechanism in detective fiction. If the sleuth (William) is the narrator, we know what he knows when he knows it, which takes the suspense out of trying to "keep up" with the detective or even solve it ahead of him. Having a sidekick who can be places and have conversations without the detective and also be a few steps behind the case is maybe an easier writing ploy?
Anyway, their relationship seemed very genuine and affectionate to me, even when William occasionally upbraided Adso, which I think was fatherly despite the "you ass!" nature of his tone. I liked the hint that William was an earthier man of the cloth, one who relaxed with his suspicious herbal remedies and perhaps had a sexual entanglement or two in his youth.
Did you think Adso had a little more depth for the detective sidekick? I can't decide whether that's because they were unraveling a pretty intricate puzzle or if his narration, interspersed with the perspective of old age, made it more insightful.
Christy, those are brilliant observations, especially about Adso vs. William as narrator.
And I do think Adso had more-than-average depth for a sidekick narrator — one, because as a monk he was a highly educated person, and his youth endowed him with an insatiable desire to know things and to have experiences; and, two, because, as you mentioned, he's telling the story from the wisdom of old age.
I love that he has William's second pair of glasses in his dotage! What a lovely detail to connect the past and present. (Plus, the use of glasses showed that they were progressive men who embraced technology and science).
I found them pretty cute together. I also enjoyed the father-son dynamic and William's occasional scolding.
Great points, cl, about the use of Adso as narrator. He was very involved in the events and had some insights of his own, but he never knew exactly what William was thinking and could never predict his next move. I also kind of enjoyed how Adso was never sure whether he fully approved of all William's beliefs or methods.
I liked that aspect, too, Erin: how Adso didn't always know what to think of William. And I like how Eco made William a Franciscan and Adso a Benedictine, so that there was sometimes a kind of friendly partisan feel to things.
I suppose it was kind of important, too, that Adso not be a Franciscan, so that we get the chance to learn about the various Franciscan "heresies" right along with him, and it also seems to make him more objective in describing the church schism/politics.
It's fascinating to me how all these monastic orders rose up in the Catholic Church with different emphases. Some stressed silence (like the Benedictines weren't supposed to talk at dinner, whereas the Franciscans really enjoyed themselves!). Some stressed poverty. Some stressed wine or cheese-making! Or chanting. Hehe
I found that stuff really interesting, too! It had never occurred to me before that different types of monks might be territorial or competitive with each other. I had also never heard this great controversy over whether Jesus was a property owner! It sounds pretty stupid now, but it makes sense in terms of the feudal system of the Middle Ages. Kind of fascinating.
I love the fight over whether Jesus owned the shirt he wore or not! They had no way of proving it one way or the other, but each side desperately latched onto any shred of "evidence" they could. It kind of reminds me of how today's fundamentalists try to make a mountain of repressive public policy out of an irrelevant mole hill of a biblical passage.
What you both have said about the territorial factions among the monks actually helped me with one drawback of the book, which was muddling through repetitive recounts of history and theological arguments. If I went back and reread those scenes, I think they would have more relevance as they were told by a Franciscan, Benedictine, etc.
8 comments:
Their sometimes-comic exchanges were my favorite part of the book.
They reminded me of Sherlock Holmes and Watson, or Poirot and Hastings. I wonder whether the author wanted to mimic them in the time-honored detective tradition or whether this device (the duo of sleuths, one genius, one muddling and naive) just happens to be an effective storytelling mechanism in detective fiction. If the sleuth (William) is the narrator, we know what he knows when he knows it, which takes the suspense out of trying to "keep up" with the detective or even solve it ahead of him. Having a sidekick who can be places and have conversations without the detective and also be a few steps behind the case is maybe an easier writing ploy?
Anyway, their relationship seemed very genuine and affectionate to me, even when William occasionally upbraided Adso, which I think was fatherly despite the "you ass!" nature of his tone. I liked the hint that William was an earthier man of the cloth, one who relaxed with his suspicious herbal remedies and perhaps had a sexual entanglement or two in his youth.
Did you think Adso had a little more depth for the detective sidekick? I can't decide whether that's because they were unraveling a pretty intricate puzzle or if his narration, interspersed with the perspective of old age, made it more insightful.
Christy, those are brilliant observations, especially about Adso vs. William as narrator.
And I do think Adso had more-than-average depth for a sidekick narrator — one, because as a monk he was a highly educated person, and his youth endowed him with an insatiable desire to know things and to have experiences; and, two, because, as you mentioned, he's telling the story from the wisdom of old age.
I love that he has William's second pair of glasses in his dotage! What a lovely detail to connect the past and present. (Plus, the use of glasses showed that they were progressive men who embraced technology and science).
And William's herbs! Yes. How delightful.
I found them pretty cute together. I also enjoyed the father-son dynamic and William's occasional scolding.
Great points, cl, about the use of Adso as narrator. He was very involved in the events and had some insights of his own, but he never knew exactly what William was thinking and could never predict his next move. I also kind of enjoyed how Adso was never sure whether he fully approved of all William's beliefs or methods.
I liked that aspect, too, Erin: how Adso didn't always know what to think of William. And I like how Eco made William a Franciscan and Adso a Benedictine, so that there was sometimes a kind of friendly partisan feel to things.
I suppose it was kind of important, too, that Adso not be a Franciscan, so that we get the chance to learn about the various Franciscan "heresies" right along with him, and it also seems to make him more objective in describing the church schism/politics.
It's fascinating to me how all these monastic orders rose up in the Catholic Church with different emphases. Some stressed silence (like the Benedictines weren't supposed to talk at dinner, whereas the Franciscans really enjoyed themselves!). Some stressed poverty. Some stressed wine or cheese-making! Or chanting. Hehe
I found that stuff really interesting, too! It had never occurred to me before that different types of monks might be territorial or competitive with each other. I had also never heard this great controversy over whether Jesus was a property owner! It sounds pretty stupid now, but it makes sense in terms of the feudal system of the Middle Ages. Kind of fascinating.
I love the fight over whether Jesus owned the shirt he wore or not! They had no way of proving it one way or the other, but each side desperately latched onto any shred of "evidence" they could. It kind of reminds me of how today's fundamentalists try to make a mountain of repressive public policy out of an irrelevant mole hill of a biblical passage.
What you both have said about the territorial factions among the monks actually helped me with one drawback of the book, which was muddling through repetitive recounts of history and theological arguments. If I went back and reread those scenes, I think they would have more relevance as they were told by a Franciscan, Benedictine, etc.
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