Book #3 from my recent trip to the used bookstore. I bought it because the premise described on the back - three editors mash together all the awful manuscripts they've been getting about weird societies and things go wrong - sounded intriguing. I thought it might turn out to be a decent thriller, or maybe a sort of creeping horror story.
280 pages in, and Eco was still boring the crap out of me will multiple page discussions about Templars, and Rosicrucians, and the truth that exists if you can just rearrange everything in the Torah into it's proper order or whatever. It was Dan Brown mixed with all of Michael Crichton's worst info-dump tendencies.
There was at least some sense, at least for me, of a growing dread in the book. Maybe that was because Causabon was recalling all these past experiences that built to his present predicament with an eye for warning signs he should have seen at the time. But there's how certain names and people keep reappearing, at unexpected times. Like they'd never been gone, or they were shuttled off the stage on an endlessly rotating wheel, and eventually it cycles them back on. Like they're moving to a different type of time from the rest of us. That could be projection on my part. I was bored, I had to come up with something to keep me going with the book as far as I did. They still hadn't actually begun work on The Plan, as it is endlessly referred to, didn't even seem close to it yet, really. Halfway through and still muddling about.
At a certain point, I couldn't handle any more of these visits to religious ceremonies the editors were making with someone who might or might not be the Comte de Saint-Germain. So that's 0-for-3 on the cheap paperback front so far.
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