Oh my, one of my "literary gods" is gone. For me, "Name of the Rose" and "Baudolino" are cynosures (beacons) of love, light, and laughter, and the joy of language and playful rapture in surreal esoterica, in post-modern existential fiction's so often haunted, lonely, cities, and desolate steppes. :rose:
«In art as in science there is no delight without the detail ... Let me repeat that unless these are thoroughly understood and remembered, all “general ideas” (so easily acquired, so profitably resold) must necessarily remain but worn passports allowing their bearers short cuts from one area of ignorance to another.» Vladimir Nabokov, commentary on translation of “Eugene Onegin.”
