Umberto Eco Books

Adso de Melk, a young Benedictine novice, follows Franciscan Brother William of Baskerville, to facilitate a meeting between Pope John XXII's and Louis the Bavarian's emissaries. Through their journey, they end in an Italian Abbey. There they will find a large library, protected fiercely by the Abbot and a librarian, a body of monks who diligently copy and illustrate books. The Abbey has many mysteries and several deaths follow. The book takes us in a fascinating journey of emotions and beliefs in the 1300 century. The days of Adso and his reflections are majestically described. It made reflect on how many injustices were made in the name of God. I found the first pages hard to follow, yet the book is easier to follow after the first chapter.

Umberto Eco's great work is one of the more perplexingly seminal and yet satisfying popular novels to come out of the Italian language in the last half century or more. Set in the form of a lost and re-discovered manuscript from the fourteenth-century, The Name of the Rose describes mysterious events that have taken place within the walls of a venerable Italian abbey in the year 1327. The narrator, one Adso of Melk, is a youth at the time of the story, though as author of the manuscript, an aged figure relating events from a distant perspective. Adso's master is the book's protagonist, the brilliant and slightly nihilistic William of Baskerville, an English Franciscan and admirer of the scholar Francis Bacon. While lodging at the abbey, Adso and William, outsiders to both the region and the monastic Order which holds the abbey, arrive in the midst of a series of grotesque, inexplicable deaths, all centered around the abbey's magnificent library: a library set within the walls of a labyrinth whose passageways are known by but one living man. As William of Baskerville employs logic and observation to unravel the complex problems set before him by both the killer and circumstances of the crimes, Eco ingeniously delves into the psychology and biome of the time and place of the novel's setting. Whereas in far too many hands a novel such as this would have been both less (delightfully) complicated and also unpopulated by characters who thought, spoke, and acted as genuine Medievals rather than modern types cast into the trappings of the past, Eco carries out a miracle and all but transports his reader back into the Middle Ages as they surely must have been. In telling his story Eco touches on many divergent themes that range from the lost classical works of the ancient masters, to the unending conflict between faith and science, to the deeply rooted core of fear that lies within the human animal---a fear which has one sure and potent antidote. The Name of the Rose is first-rate fiction, an astounding, insightful probing of human psychology, and an exercise in comparison between one age and another. Well written, addictive, amazing, it is surely among the greatest novels of modern times.

Dare I say that I enjoyed this slim paperback more than I did the novel itself! Perhaps I am one of the unsophisticated readers the author alludes to at one point. A must for any student of the novel form. Thank you Professor Eco for a chance to peek into the pathways of your mind.Incidentally the edition I've read goes by the title "Reflections on The name of..." Also read "Six walks in the fictional woods."

This slim book, of only 80 pages, takes you behind the scenes and into the mind of an author. It shows that a "real world" was created in "The name of the rose" with all of the history, geography and even weather in the proper place for the story to happen. The style is light and playful talking about how many steps are needed for some dialog to take place rather than explaining what each character's motivation is. It gives a glimpse of how much enjoyment must come from actually creating a novel

After reading The Name of the Rose and enjoying it quite a bit, I was interested to try Foucault's Pendulum which is a classic work in its own right. However, I found the book very hard to follow for the first half because of the constant discussions between the main characters about all the Occult esoterica and mainstream theology they learned over their careers as if they're competing with each other on who knows the most arcane detail. Their discussions, planning, scheming and research just seemed so grandiose, so overwhelmingly demonstrative that the long esoteric debates muted away the rest of the story to develop in the background so the ending seems abrupt and evokes little reaction from the reader. When it came, my reaction was "oh well, there's the end." Perhaps I missed something in this book...

I've always thought of Moby Dick as a blending of two different novels: one is a compelling, Shakespearean epic of the highest order; the other, which consists of Melville's exposition on the history & science of whaling, is an ambitious, gratuitous mess that (in my opinion) gets in the way of the narrative.

I've come to think of Foucault's Pendulum in the same way: it's half a compelling, satirical meditation on the nature of conspiracy, with an engrossing plot, incredibly sympathetic characters, scintillating mystery, and surprising humor; and half excessive, gratuitous exposition on historical secret societies and arcana that, while occasionally interesting, gets tiresome before long. I am not exaggerating when I say that half the book consists of this type of writing. Earlier reviewers have claimed that it only STARTS that way but gets better; I completely disagree.

I think a part of the problem is Eco's writing style. He's an academic, and therefore is already predisposed towards the overindulgent writing that pervades academia. Excessive verbosity doesn't make you an intellectual, or a sophisticate; it just makes you excessively verbose. In the case of Moby Dick, Melville's narrative is enough to get around the ridiculous exposition. In Eco's case, the book very nearly collapses under the weight of Eco's prose.

Some people will no doubt find the endless exposition on history's conspiracies and arcana fascinating, and frankly I could understand why. It can be very interesting, engrossing stuff. Something also needs to be said for a literary challenge; tough reading can be its own reward. But most people have their limits.

I originally took other reviewers' advice and forced myself to read every sentence on every page, thinking that it would get better. I learned my lesson after two hundred pages, after becoming exceedingly frustrated and bored. I advise any interested readers that, while there is a lot to like about this book, there is no shame in skimming early and often if you feel the need.

I am in total agreement with those reviewers who said a)the book made them feel smarter upon completion, and b)it takes multiple readings to finally put all the pieces of this complex puzzle together. But how rewarding!!! You want a real intellectual challenge? Take on The Glass Bead Game. It'll give your grey matter a run for its money.

I got a totally different take on reading Foucault's Pendulum for the first time, when I was a young 20-something, than I did upon re-reading it at age 46. But for that matter, ditto on Wuthering Heights: first time at 14, second time more than two decades later.

I can't tell you how many times I've gone through the Rootabaga Stories books by Carl Sandburg, and they still ultimately delight. Look 'em up.

Eco's Foucault's Pendulum is one of the truly superior technical achievements in the history of 20th Century literature. There is not a single thread left unaccounted for, and we are not talking about a 150 pg. work here. Robert Bolano considered the novel as the most imperfect of the literary arts and considered that the imperfections exponentially increased as the work became more elaborate. While this may be the rule, FP is the definitive exception. It is difficult for any type of writer not to turn green with envy when, for example, a minor story line occurring in the first 50 pages of the novel suddenly crops up 500 pages later in its full glory only to be neatly tied up, like a bow on a Christmas present. Bravo!

Not much to add to previous reviews, except to mention that the Turkish edition has more than a 100 footnotes and a dictionary in the back, which help clarify the author's liberal use of Latin and the more obscure references to history, religion, alchemy, etc.

Maybe that is what the English edition needs, as well. It would indeed be near-impossible for the average reader to get through the book without those pages.

To be sure, Baudolino is as fine an adventure from a different time and place as can be found. Stacked up to Umberto Eco's other works of fiction Baudolino is the most fanciful of the group. In Baudolino Eco Lends beauty to medieval times, and tells the most truth through a most prolific liar.

I'll say that at first I hated this book. I thought many times of giving up and moving on to another one, but I bought it, and I figured that since I paid money for it I might as well read it all the way through.

I'm really glad I didn't give up because the second half of Baudolino is really the better half. The first half was so boring and seemingly unnecessary and long-winded. In the second half it really picks up speed and comes together nicely. If you have the patience, I would really recommend this. Despite the heavy handed philosophical diatribe that sometimes clogs up the pace of the story, it really is one of Eco's more accessible books. And it has a nice ending that I wasn't expecting. An Eco for beginners I guess.

NOTE: This review is for the unabridged audio version.

I hesitated to tackle this book since I've found some of Eco's previous books to be a bit difficult to understand (I'm not the most intellectually gifted reader!)

But this one was extremely entertaining (except for a short period in which he gets into heavy theological discussion which verges on sermonizing). Most of the book is the interesting and often hilarious telling of the adventures of a young man named "Baudolino" who goes on a quest for the Holy Grail.

Having the book read by the talented George Guidall (one of the best narrators in the business) was a big help and the entire book, although long (19 hrs!) went quickly. In some ways, I didn't want the adventures to end.

I'm sure literary critics will discover and discuss all sorts of hidden meanings and symbolism that I missed. Who cares? I had fun reading it and consider it 19 hours very well spent!

If you have at least some background in medieval history, you will be able to get through Baudolino without too much trouble. If not, you will no doubt find this book esoteric, dense and impenetrable.

In a beseiged Constantinople in 1453, a wealthy man takes a grizzled con artist named Baudolino, into his home - a con artist who may or may not have been an advisor of the great Frederick Barbarossa, witha grand tale of a manic quest for the mythical priest-king Prester John. One is never sure of whether Baudolino is telling the truth, but in the end, it doesn't matter, as truth and falsehood seem to collapse into reality and Baudolino's most fantastic yarns earn verisimilitude. Along the way, we meet and come to love Baudolino's rag-tag group of lifelong friends who travel with him to the ends of the earth. A complex read, but for fans of Eco or intellectual thrillers, one that will prove satisfying and enjoyable.

Usually when I receive a Christmas present such as this, a fictional tale with several hundred pages I employ it as a dust-catcher on a distant shelf. Thus are my rooms filled with barely read gifts, and yet something attracted me to this curious volume. Not being wholly familiar with the author I found myself reading the (albeit fictional) account of a medieval man of the 12th century in Constantinople during the crusades.

Now, this trickster of a fellow was born into rural peasantry and through an imagined vision became the adopted son of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. By this stroke of good fortune he is able to cultivate his natural talents toward writing and is sent to the cosmopolitan city of Paris to study. Here begins his journey and the story of his life; which he narrates to a Greek official (called Niketas) during the Latin sack of Constantinople.

It took me the best part of five days to read the entire book, and to be honest it was extremely hard work. Not only does it lean toward a poetic narrative but it is interwoven with many literary allusions, medieval theology, history, philosophy and symbolism. The fact that I had studied medieval society at college helped but it appears that the author has a far greater command of the literary milieu of that time, and incorporated so much of it into this volume that I felt a little overwhelmed.

The principal theme of the tale is the meaning and basis of authority, the question of historical fact; if all recorded history is solely the written thoughts of individuals does this equal that it is completely reliable. How much personal opinion, what dreams and visions, preferences and choices enter into that record of events. Ultimately Baudolino is the man who investigates this principle through his life and relates to us his discoveries; just how much of a good liar must a poet become to be recognized as talented and creative... Baudolino enacts and experiments with all the possible variations of 'communication' and dances daily with reality and fiction. The story invites us to contemplate the existence of an 'eternal truth' by which all phenomena can be measured and related.

In terms of style I found it an almost beautiful combination of elements; a mixture of Dante's divine journey, Froissart's chronicles, Tolkien's Lord of the Rings and Monty Python and the Search for the Holy-Grail! The Grail is another key element of the tale; a sacred object whose whereabouts is unknown but for which everybody is constantly searching, prepared to kill and die for... the notion of a self created fantasy, a dream which we desire as reality, the search for an ideal is brought forth for serious contemplation. In the final analysis, how much of our temporal lives is a result of our own creation? Umberto Eco has cleverly drawn us out to consider the quality and color of the fabric of our existence; what is sacred and spiritual compared with the ordinary and carnal, can we truly exist without fantasy and fiction, and can we really exist as definable entities without our constructed illusional systems of belief?

Umberto Eco's best efforts are probably contained in this rather labyrinthine and meandering effort to codify Thomistic philosophy. Thomism doesn't have a philosophy of the "aesthetic,' a notion wholly alien to the medieval mind. So Eco has to kind of create such a notion from a plethora of Thomas' writings. Fortunately, Eco does stay on track, even if he creates and follows tangents widely, by staying focused on the contribution ART (vis-a-vis "aesthetics") offers to modern sensibility.

Frankly, if one wants a better understanding of Medieval attitudes toward art, Emile Male's "Gothic" is incomparable. Male's work is a tour d'force and a "must" for anyone seriously interested in medieval art.

Even Jacques Maritain's "Art and Scholasticism" does a better job of presenting Thomistic views on art and beauty. The same can be said of Josef Pieper, who has written many books on art and the scholastic mind.

Eco, who made a name for inviting deconstruction into the Italian worldview, is better skilled at directing his attentions to that field than the medieval notions, concepts, and theories of art and beauty. If one wants a more concolidated assessment of the "philosophical" underpinnings of scholasticism's attitude toward art, simply read Aristotle. The scholastic view isn't much different, except that it is differently deployed in a manner consistent with Male's "Gothic."

This book bored me.

This is a fascinating and enjoyable survey of the approaches to and embodiments of beauty in the Middle Ages through the 13th century, which is when the Middle Ages gave way to the High Middle Ages (which culminated - or bottomed out, depending on how you look at it - in the Protestant Reformations). Great theologians and mystics such as St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Bernard of Clairvaux are dealt with, as well as lesser figures such as Hugh of St. Victor and Abbot Suger. Theology and mysticism, architecture and music, science, philosophy and even love poetry are brought together as Eco paints (no pun intended) a highly detailed exposition of the ways in which beauty shaped the lives of those in the medieval era.

It is, in many ways, a tour through a land that is as strange as it is wonderful. The entire world - every created thing - was, early on, *seen* as a symbol that was to be read just as the Bible was read: with a sense that it existed not just as it was, but as something beyond itself too, pointing ultimately to God, for God had created it. Nature is understood to be what sociologists and philosophers would now call "enchanted": filled with mystery, depth, existential and metaphysical meaning. The rise of Aristotelian metaphysics (re: science and philosophy as a single entity - they weren't separated back then) is what eventually quashed this such that the world was no longer see as a cosmic spiritual thing so much as a created thing that could be studied as having its own laws. St. Thomas Aquinas, "the Angelic Doctor", did much to push this view and it eventually one out. The medieval era looks curiously modern in this regard.

Although the rise of Aristotelianism may have done much to encourage the development of what is now called "modern science", there were other forces at work, particularly those of stone and glass: the medieval churches. In France, in the 12th century, a priest named Suger designed and oversaw the building of the greatest church of the medieval era: the cathedral of St. Denis. St. Denis is today known as Pseudo-Dionysius, a 5th or 6th century monk whose writings were written under the name of Dionysius the Aeropagite, the first convert of St. Paul. Denis/Dionysius's mystical writings on the light of God were heavily influential on Abbot Suger and as he designed the cathedral, he saw to it that the stained glass and windows allowed the light to filter into the building such that the very experience of the aesthetics would be like an ecstatic experience of God.

This brought him into conflict with St. Bernard of Clairvaux, "the Difficult Saint", who is best known for his four-volume commentary on the Song of Songs. Bernard was unarguably the greatest and most influential figure of the 12th century, and he thought that the great burst of enthusiasm for aesthetics in Abbot Suger's cathedral was perilously close to idolatry. In a certain sense, neither figure won this dispute for the beauty of cathedrals has been with us ever since, without the highly developed sense of theological aesthetics articulated by Abbot Suger being understood by those who marveled in - and at - the cathedrals as "houses for God".

And yet, the vision of beauty permeated theological and mystical writings that dealt with the vision of God and the resurrection of the dead. The very notion of beauty was found throughout much of medieval thought - which was oftentimes theologically rooted, but not always - and it is to Eco's credit that he can so deftly maneuver between theological and philosophical writings on the one hand, and their embodiment in architecture on the other. The vision of God was the summit of the medieval spiritual journey, and this even resulted in the painting of pictures of Jesus as being physically beautiful - a sign of no small level of devotion.

This book is a fascinating read whose short length is by no means matched for its insight and familiarity with both primary and secondary sources. Students of history (whether sociological or intellectual), theology and mysticism, and art will benefit from the lucid work. Casual readers will benefit from it as well, and likely find themselves looking at light - and all that it brings to sight - just a little differently as a result of reading it.

An extremely important book that answers marvellously our prejudices against the Middle Ages. It explores in great details their literature and philosophy to show how people understood beauty then. He sees three phases. First the aesthetics of proportion in direct connection with the greek mathematical heritage and the biblical teachings about the wisdom of the creation by God who projected his own balanced vision and essence in every single creature. Second the asthetics of light which reveals a more sensorial and even sensual approach to beauty in the fact that light and colors are beautiful at first contact and felt as such without any reflection. Finally the aesthetics of the organism that sees beauty in the fact that a complex composition is the creation of perfect balance among all the elements that are themselves balanced in the same way at a lower level. The second great approach is that of allegorical and symbolical beauty. For philosophers and theologians beauty was to be found in the meaning of things and meaning was to be found in the allegorical and symbolical value of every element considered because for them nothing existed that did not represent the higher level of divine nature, divine perfection. Even a representation of the devil can be beautiful if it shows perfectly the ugliness of the beast in him. Yet Thomas Aquinas reveals his deeper sense of beauty in the fact that he provides this concept with a certain amount of autonomy. This autonomy had been in the air for many centuries but he is the first theologian to accept it as an important element in his evaluation of beauty. We find the same dilemma with art. At first art is nothing but what is produced by the manual work of people. But through poetry on one hand, and groups or corporations of artists on the other, the aesthetic value of artistic work is captured at least partly. Yet the book has aged a little bit over the last forty years or so. It does not consider enough the practical and material level of things. The existence of poetical tournaments in important pilgrimage cities like Le Puy in France, the constant use of music and singing (and the specialization of some monks in that field), the training of architects and sculptors in some abbeys to build the churches of their abbeys or their priories. It also does not see that some practices, like poetry, is in perfect continuation of what it was in the celtic, nordic and germanic traditions : the poet was on his way to becoming a druid, or singing epics was part of the know-how of a good warrior, or a celtic god was nothing but a good craftsman in one trade and a good poet and singer, etc. The global evaluation then is slightly defective. This leads him to concentrating on gothic cathedrals and neglecting the romanesque period that built thousands of little marvellous gems in villages with sculptures, paintings, etc. The romanesque period is thus undervalued and the gothic re-orientation is over-valued. The pesrpective is then defective. Finally he takes the present conception of art and beauty too much into account to assess the conceptions of the people in those days. Even when dealing with art history we must not, never, look back at things to assess them but always compare what follows to what has come before. In this case he should have compared medieval art - exclusively - with roman art et celtic-nordic-germanic art without forgetting that the chirstianization of the Roman Empire and the Germanic invaders also brought a complete shift from what was done for the free elite of a fundamentally slave-society to something that was supposed to be done for everyone within the church, the liturgy, but also mass events like pilgrimages, fairs and carnavals, or the famous Masses of Fools or Danses Macabres. It was, in our world, the first time ever the whole society was associated to cultural and artistic activities that were integrated in general social life not as an entertainment or a decoration but as something meaningful, even if we can consider the necessity for that meaning to be religious or articulated on a religious dimension as being a limitation. And these elements were quasi-permanent since situated in all the churches and taking place at all religious occasions, as well as non-religious occasions. We will then note that Troubadors were a regression when they were playing and singing only for the noble elite, though from Eco's point of view they were progress since they introduced a new conception that was closer to our modern conception of poetry. From the slave-owning elite, to mass christian pedagogy, and then to the new noble feudal castle-enclosed elite. From refined feelings going along with the barbarity of circus games, slavery and gladiators, to the massive culture of the Peace of God and God's arts and beauty going along with the barbarity of some warmongering local or not so local barons and other nobles, and then to the refined troubador music and poetry for the castle-protected nobles going along with the continuation of the religious oriented arts for the people abandoned by the poets and the musicians. Maybe the Middle Ages were looking for a uniformized society too much, but it is a selective elite practice that came out of it for the superior social class of the nobility. The Middle Ages is a period that tries to manage its contradictions in a balanced way hence shifting from one elitist contradiction to another elitist contradiction. Umberto Eco misses this last point.

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU

This is a collection of short stories which are most definitely satire for the intelligentsia. Eco's mind is a database of cultural references, linguistic foolery and razor-sharp wit.

The stories include "Granita," a retelling of Nabokov's famous tale with a geriatric object of desire and "The Discovery of America" which chronicles Columbus' 1492 landing on terra firma via the newscasting techniques used for man's first walk on the moon.

Eco's creativity knows no bounds. As with his other works, an understanding of topics as diverse as Adorno's theories and a Who's Who in the Greek pantheon of classical philsophers is definitely helpful, but not required. Even if the reader does not recognize all the references, she will undoubtedly recognize the talents of one of the greatest authors of our time. If you like to think and read at the same time, try some Eco.

I bought this book because I saw a chapter in which great classics of world- literature, the Bible, Homer, Quixote, Divine Comedy etc. are , as it were , critiqued by a reader at a publishing house who rejects them. I thought this might be interesting and amusing. There are some insights, but once one has the idea of the piece it is predictable and dull. Other pieces give the same kind of feeling. The Lolita parody in which the love- object is an old woman should have been confined to one- sentence.
Perhaps I am not being fair to Eco, but the kind of humor through parody and pastiche which makes up this book simply does not much appeal to me.
All of his great learning and knowledge seem to me here to be engaged in an exercise of 'playing with himself' which gives the reader little indeed.

Eco, as is his form, provides a series of entertaining and poignant stories covering topics such as blue-jeans, media reports from the discovery of America and conversations with God. If you enjoy the range and depth of Travels in Hyperreality, then you will enjoy this book.

After i read this book i could draw so much paralleles, concise ones, between the artists that i liked that i had never realised before that this was the real appeal to me in reading this book. I could see i line crossing between James Joyce, Bretch, Kubrick and Kafka. And all the modernism movement really took place in my mind. And it's a easy-reading book, beside the parts about semiology, wich are necessary to make some points clear. The two final parts of the book, about the zen mania of the 50's and the other about Marx, don't seem to be at the center of matter but are also good reading. I think anybody interested in arts should look at this book.

Most post-modernist scholars, especially critical scholars, have probably already read The Open Work. It is considered a seminal work. Eco advances the theory that literary works necessarily leave much of the details of a story to the reader. Taking Moby Dick as an example, he notes that the book never mentions that the sailors on the Pequod have two legs. It is the work of the reader to reach such a conclusion based on the context of the novel. While Captain Ahab is mentioned as having only one leg, Melville never says which one, again leaving to the reader to fill in the details. In this sense, literature is "parasitic," according to Eco, because it requires the reader to fill in many of the details of a given story.

This corresponds with other post-modernists who claim that meaning resides in the receiver of a text. However, Eco establishes his own ground in claiming that authors can limit the reader's options for interpretation. For Eco, while much meaning resides in the interpretation of a text, the symbols employed by an author also have some meaning that a reasonable interpreter should understand. The "open work" then, is not an absolute condition. Some works will be more open than others.

While this may sound like a repudiation of many post-modernists (and it is), readers should rember that it was originally published quite some time ago. At the time, it was considered revolutionary. It stands today as a still-important work in the field of semiotics and critical theory. I gave it four stars not because it isn't excellent (it is) or well-written (it is, and far easier to read than, say, Foucault) but because it is no longer cutting edge.

El libro viene en el mismo formato que el anterior "La Historia de la Belleza"; es decir que la calidad de la encuadernación, impresión y del papel es exquisita.

En cuanto al contenido, creo que es una producción un poco forzada. Si bien es un tema interesante y el desarrollo del mismo se lleva a cabo en igual manera que el volumen anterior, no veo nuevos aportes que agreguen valor a la obra.

En el mismo sentido, me hicieron falta el resumen fotográfico que se encuentra al comienzo del primer volumen, y las citas famosas que estan impresas en la contratapa (del primer volumen también).

As a tipical Eco Book , it has a lot of information but it is stilla good book . It is needed patient and strong focusing . It is no t a typical novel ....

A slim but informative introduction to Umberto Eco's work in philology and semiotics, Gary Radford's "On Eco" belongs to the Wadsworth Philosopher Series. Prefaced by Eco's somewhat ironic quote "I myself like easy books that put me to sleep immediately," the work gets underway with a cheerful introduction of itself as a self-aware text, suggesting to its reader that any notions of authorship or Gary Radford be tossed out the window. All you have in front of you is, well, a text; and one that will hopefully assist in the creation of its own Model Reader.

"On Eco" proceeds in this playful spirit, introducing Eco's work in semiotics, outlining his theories of interpretation, and finally relating these ideas to his first two novels. Intended for the general reader, the book is written in a refreshingly immediate style, virtually twinkling with wry humor and peppered with charmingly eclectic examples. Radford takes an obvious delight in selecting offbeat illustrations for Eco's theories, and his erudition ranges from Monty Python and Elvis Costello to Borges and Schopenhauer. Not above tweaking the nose of his subject, Umberto Eco quickly becomes the primary target of his own theories and obsessions - after finding his name emptied of content and cast as an "expression unit," the Professor is, among other things, deconstructed out of existence, semiotically "blown up," and placed in a hypothetical mystery novel as the killer's next victim.

Happily, amidst the humor and playfulness, Radford stays focused on his topic with admirable dexterity, covering the major elements of Eco's semiotics: expression units and content units, Model Authors and Model Readers, textual topics and inferential walks, closed and open texts, and theories of sign production. Radford is very careful to keep pace with his Model Reader, developing each topic from the previous one, backing theory with concrete examples, and patiently cross-connecting his points from chapter to chapter. While at times one desires more depth, the text provides many original quotes from Eco's works, an implicit invitation to further study the topic at its source.

The penultimate chapter, "Watching the Detectives," touches upon the semiotic nature of detective stories. Focusing on "The Name of the Rose" and "Foucault's Pendulum," Radford discusses the way each novel examines the quest for meaning, the former using semiotics to posit a potentially useful truth, the latter revealing what happens when meaning is consistently deferred and all truths are held equal.

"On Eco" ends as it began, with a brief discussion of itself as a text, one that will inevitably change the very nature of the subject it purports to study, and one that requires a reader to complete its meaning. With this in mind, "On Eco" admits that, like all books, it must be "incomplete and potentially endless."

A concise and often charming book, I recommend "On Eco" to any fan of Umberto Eco the novelist who wants to know more about Umberto Eco the professor.