Umberto Eco's book Foucault's Pendulum will
fascinate and dismay students of the Western esoteric tradition, for
in it he serves up a veritable smorgasbord of hermetic dishes and
exotic tidbits from gnosticism, alchemy, cabala, theosophy, Masonry,
Rosicrucianism, magick, and modern science. However, lest you think
that the immense effort and energy he has expended in researching and
writing about these subjects has been dedicated in the spirit of
sincere inquiry, let me disabuse you of that unfounded hope. The book
is a global, reckless and brutal attack on metaphysics and
gnosticism. It does, however, also have its merits: e.g., Eco's
send-up of occult pretentiousness reaches hilarious proportions when
it really hits the mark. Generally, the plot is intriguing and the
characters quite engaging.
In this book, Eco puts the Western esoteric tradition on trial, and
like the Grand Inquisitor he is prosecutor, judge and jury. By
bringing to light the seamy and unsavory sides of occultism and in
particular, its connections to fascism, he does an important service.
His critiques of the lack of intellectual rigor and ethical
integrity, of the associative and circular thought processes, and of
the mindless repetition of fantasies from book to book until they
crystallize as revealed truths are just and salutary with respect to
the legion of third- and fourth-rate authors in this field. These
criticisms are important and need to be brought forward, however, the
malevolence underlying his criticism shadows what are otherwise good
points. What is most harmful and unethical is his tarring of all
metaphysical thought or practice with the same brush -- his refusal
to discriminate the beneficent from the malevolent. The net result,
calculated and deliberate, is to leave the impression that all the
elements within these diverse traditions are dedicated to seeking
power and worshiping Evil.
Nowhere is any mention made of the general purpose of authentic
metaphysical schools, orders, or traditions -- to guide individuals
through preparatory physical and spiritual self-purification to
commitment to a lifetime's quest for self-knowledge, the development
of character, and graduated advances in the evolution of
consciousness, leading ultimately, to liberation.
Having massively forcefed himself such a great
variety and quantity of material from the diverse and often
fragmented remains of the above-mentioned traditions, some of which
are highly potent and psychically charged, Eco exhibits the primary
symptom of a critical case of spiritual indigestion - mental
confusion.
The book contains a hodgepodge of distortions, slanders and
half-truths about these various traditions. It is disturbing to see
such a blatantly prejudicial and demeaning approach to the subjects
adopted by an author of Eco's standing.
Unfortunately, no matter how ill-founded or parti pris are his
viewpoints and opinions, the author's fame and power, his cleverness
and display of erudition will lend them plausibility and credence in
the minds of the general readership. In Foucault's Pendulum,
most readers will find themselves in a true terra incognita, lacking
the background to be able to discriminate factual truth from
falsehood or to discern the disreputable smearing tactics to which he
stoops. Truly, this book exemplifies a frightening form of literature
-- literature as disinformation. In short, be put on notice: a new
witch hunt may have just been triggered by the Bolognese sage of
semiotics.
This hatchet job is carried out within the context of a very
engagingly written book, the more's the pity. His characters are
sixties' Italian-style babyboomers, who never made the transition to
Yuppiedom. Belbo, the anti-heroic protagonist is a writer manque who
lost his self-esteem as a kid and has spent the rest of his life,
frustrated and alienated, working as a quasi-editor for Garamond, a
pseudo-academic press. Though at first appearing to be a charming, if
somewhat neurotic, fellow, his secret writings on his computer
"Abulafia," evidence a serious dementia and a lurid and
self-aggrandizing imagination that show him to be far more
"diabolical" than many writers of occult rubbish, who are often
innocuous, if somewhat dotty.
Diotallevi is a sensitive, ascetic type, an endearing will o' the
wisp fellow who, orphaned from infancy, is convinced by his all
consuming passion for cabala that he comes from Jewish ancestry.
Casaubon is the narrator. After earning his doctorate with a thesis
on the Knights Templar, he creates a sort of literary detective
agency for sussing out material on arcane subjects. Styling himself
as the Sam Spade of culture, he is hired by Belbo at Garamond to do
picture research for a coffee-table book, The Wonderful Adventure
of Metals.
Eco's treatment of women is ultimately conservative. Lorenza
Pellegrini is meant to portray an incarnation of the gnostic Sophia,
the exiled bride and mother of the Demiurge, described as follows in
the Nag Hammadi gospels: "For I am the first and the last. I am the
honored and the hated. I am the saint and the prostitute." Lorenza is
sketched as seductive and unattainable, the wild and undomesticatable
female. However, this depiction is a trivialization of the Sophia
archetype, for she betrays no symptom of wisdom or learning -- and
appears to be more a commonplace allumeuse than a muse. Although
clearly intrigued by, and sympathetic to, this archetypal-tease, Eco
condemns her to be duped and destroyed by the powers of darkness,
while Lia, who is isomorphic with the archetype of the "good," tame
woman, the nourishing child-bearer, possesses an intelligence founded
in earthy common sense capable of debunking and demystifying, for she
herself embodies the authentic mystery of birth.
One day a man shows up at Garamond with a story of a parchment
containing Templar secrets found in a cave at the turn of the century
(if this is beginning to sound vaguely familiar, yes, it has all the
earmarks of a parody of Holy Blood, Holy Grail and there are
other clear signs of this intent scattered throughout the book).
Manuscript in hand, this author is a repugnant ex-Nazi type, who
tells a sordid tale of stealing the document from the innocent and
unsuspecting daughter of the dead man who had made the discovery. The
material is so explosive, he says, that he wants to rush into print
with it to reduce the danger to himself as sole guardian of the
information.
The Garamond trio would have dismissed him as just another cranky
Diabolical, as they are fond of terming writers of books on
metaphysical or esoteric subjects, had the police not contacted them
the next day, investigating his alleged murder on the very night
after he left them. This alleged murder remains unsolved for a number
of years, and the situation lends some credibility to the man's claim
that the information he possessed placed his life in danger. This and
a number of other circumstances give rise to speculation and the
triad's attempt to figure out the details of this Templar plot, a
process which, ever more involving and intriguing, finally develops
into a full-scale obsession. They appear to be on to something big --
nothing less than a complicated historical fugue of plot and
counterplot between competing secret societies, each seeking the
ultimate secret: the location of the underground chakra point in the
earth's body, whose possession grants absolute world domination.
If this is beginning to sound to you like the plot for yet another
edifying Return of Indiana Jones, you too, may feel offended that a
man of Eco's intellectual influence, should trivialize and reduce the
whole of Western esoteric spirituality and metaphysical philosophy,
to a cartoon battle among the forces of darkness. But the book's
wildly irresponsible climax surpasses even Hollywood at its worst for
cheap sensationalism.
If it were only a comic-book adventure story -- fine -- but the fault
is infinitely compounded and truly shocking because Eco presumes to
involve and plays fast and loose with the reputations of great men
and women, slandering the likes of Francis Bacon, John Dee, Robert
Fludd and Elizabeth I, whose contributions have already influenced
humanity for the past 400 years and will undoubtedly continue to be
treasured.
Now I have made a rather serious charge with respect to Eco's ethics
and it is incumbent upon me to substantiate it. Let me cite a
particularly objectionable example, and one that is pivotal within
the context of the his treatment of Francis Bacon. By mingling
history with fiction, Eco grants himself the license (and also, the
"out") to vilify and falsify. For example, Belbo's secret computer
files give the confused impression that he is recalling past-life
memories as Edward Kelly, John Dee's clairvoyant skryer. In these
files, Belbo-Kelley makes himself out to be the true secret author of
the Shakespeare plays, while Bacon is described as plotting to create
a false historical trail that would make it look like he wrote them.
Now this is not just good clean fun, because it commences a foul and
libelous portrayal of Bacon which, continuing in the same vein,
leaves an impression of an evil and power-hungry man, who, murdered
John Dee, disloyally duped and abused Elizabeth I, and tried to steal
the laurel crown of another author. In this there is a not even a
grain of truth and, as with all lies, it makes repulsive and
scurrilous reading. By the way, Eco libels Elizabeth with the same
nonchalant disregard for the truth and one begins to catch the scent
here of an ancient papist vendetta, an attempt to settle a very old
score.
But that is only the beginning. Taking the theosophical and
Freemasonic legend that Francis Bacon achieved the Great Work of
alchemy, thereby attaining immortality, which enabled him to stage
his death and reappear in Europe as Saint-Germain in the next
century, he plays with this legend as a pivotal point of the novel.
Count Aglie, a major character and the trio's adversary, is modeled
after Saint-Germain and discreetly gives indications that such is his
true identity. The leftist-oriented Garamond triad distrust this
engaging aristocrat, all the more so because he fascinates and
impresses their respective girlfriends with his gracious manner and
interesting conversation and they assume that Aglie is an impostor,
posing as the legendary Saint-Germain. However, the final impression
the book leaves is that Aglie is indeed the 20th century incarnation
of the Count de Saint-Germain.
The portrait of Saint-Germain, as Aglie, a living contemporary is, in
part, well sketched; we recognize the refined, learned, charming
raconteur, who describes scenes from past centuries with the
vividness of an eyewitness participant. It is how Eco twists the
character of Aglie that is libelous with respect to both Bacon and
Saint-Germain. On the mere basis of a resemblance between the sound
of two names, which moreover, are not uncommonly found, he makes the
allegation that the Count de Saint-Germain-Ragozki was Pierre
Ivanovitch Rachkovsky, head of Okhrana, the Czarist secret police,
and the man responsible for launching the fraudulent Protocols of the
Elders of Zion. Aglie is depicted as presiding Grand Master over a
congress of secret society and ceremonial order heads which are
shown, one and all, to be malevolent and murderous representatives of
the dark forces. And here is an example of how Eco appears to be
confused. He integrates the metaphysical concepts of master initiate
-- immortality-reincarnation as apparent reality-structures within
his story -- Aglie is the continuation of Bacon/Saint-Germain, he
seems to imply. However, he labels anyone who pursues an
understanding of, or believes in, such metaphysical concepts as
diabolical and given over to the dark forces.
The application of one's intellectual gifts in the service of
distortion and slander must surely rate right up there with the sin
against the Holy Spirit. Let me give a specific example. Eco portrays
Aglie as quoting Pontius Pilate, "Quid est veritas?" with an
insouciance befitting a Nietzschian Superman who has passed "beyond
good and evil." This is a layered reference, evidencing the subtle
aspect of Eco's scholarship, because Francis Bacon, Saint-Germain's
alleged earlier incarnation, begins his famous essay, "On Truth,"
with this very quotation. But the point of that essay is to deny,
brilliantly and resoundingly, that truth is merely relative:
"What is truth? said jesting Pilate and would not stay for an answer. Certainly there be that delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix a belief; affecting free-will in thinking, as well as in acting."". . . But howsoever these things are thus in men's depraved judgments, and affections, yet truth, which only doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making, or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief in truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature."
"Certain, it is heaven upon earth to have a man's mind move in charity, rest in providence, and turn upon the poles of truth."
In addition to the war chest of his literary
renown, his arsenal of weapons includes gamesmanship, deliberate
scholarly obfuscation, subtle intellectual and emotional
manipulation, and the classic disinformation technique of putting a
false spin on an atom of truth to really create confusion. Using the
ploy of invisibility (imitated, ironically, from the benevolent
invisibility of the 17th c. Rosicrucians), he shields his real
position, launching a full-scale guerilla attack against a hated
enemy - all Western forms of non-orthodox spirituality - without
daring to hoist his own standard in full view. Why?
Those readers who make it to the end, will be rewarded for their
perseverence with at least some clarification. Much of the deliberate
ambiguity, biplay and paradox have been resolved (although
considerable confusion remains) and Eco enunciates his position and
judgement with all the subtlety of a Mack Truck. Esoteric and
metaphysical = Evil.
But wherever could Mr. Eco be coming from in this judgment? A few
reproachful paragraphs in the last ten pages of the book give the
game away, and make manifest from what quarter this blitzkrieg has
been mounted: no surprises here - it could have been deduced. Who is
the ancient and eternal enemy of Cathars, Templars, Protestants,
Rosicrucians, Masons and Jews? - Who else but Roman Catholic
orthodoxy:
"Hadn't Aglie spoken of the yearning for mystery that stirred the age of the Antonines? And yet someone had just arrived and declared himself the son of God, the son of God made flesh, to redeem the sins of the world. Was that a run-of-the-mill mystery? And he promised salvation to all, they only had to love their neighbor. Was that a trivial secret? And he bequeathed the idea that whoever uttered the right words at the right time could turn a piece of bread and a half-glass of wine into the body and blood of the son of God, and be nourished by it. Was that a paltry riddle? And then he lead the Church fathers to ponder and proclaim that God was One and Triune and that the Spirit proceeded from the Father and the Son, but that the Son did not proceed from the Father and the Spirit. Was that some easy formula for Hylics? And yet they, who now had salvation within their grasp -- do-it-yourself salvation -- turned deaf ears. Is that all there is to it? How trite. And they kept on scouring the Mediterranean in their boats, looking for a lost knowledge, of which those thirty-denarii dogmas were but the superficial veil, the parable for the poor in spirit, the allusive hieroglyph, the wink of the eye at the Pneumatics. The mystery of the Trinity? Too simple: there had to be more to it."
And now we know why he had to disguise his
position so cunningly. If he had been upfront about it from the
beginning- that he was giving a fundamentalist Catholic critique of
gnostic, "heretical" or metaphysical traditions - who, pray tell,
would read the book or take it seriously? It really seems that this
book could be a sort of "put-up" job, an attempt to rebut Holy
Blood, Holy Grail by deflating it rather than taking it on
honorably and chivalrously.
Eco dedicates the book with two quotations. The
first, quoted with a snide mockery detectable only in retrospect, is
from Agrippa of Nettlesheim's De Occulta Philosophia:
"Only for you, sons of the doctrine and of wisdom, have we written this work. Study this book, ponder that which we have intentionally scattered and arranged in a few places; what we have hidden in one place we have manifested in another, in order that it could be understood from your wisdom."
The second, a blatant fabrication, purports to be
by one Raymond Smullyan, dated 5,000 B.C.: "Superstition brings bad
luck." It's an example of Eco's somewhat overly cute wit, but more
importantly, it does indeed sum up the malicious message of this
virtuoso's masterpiece of disinformation. 'Superstition' (a term Eco
apparently employs to include every possible spiritual path or
metaphysical inquiry outside of Roman Catholic Orthodoxy), leads to
perdition.
The book seems designed to instill paranoia in the millions of
people, who, disaffected and dissatisfied with the adequacy, or
degree of quality, sincerity, or authenticity of their religious
institutions and leadership, have sought spiritual enrichment and
development through exploration of other traditions, either orthodox
or esoteric. The means Eco uses are lies, intimidation, and the
promotion of fear and insecurity by portraying dire consequences to
seekers and questers. In the sheep within the fold, the book will
instill alarm, prejudice, and misapprehension. The intent of the book
can only be compared to certain recent productions of the American
moral majority fundamentalists.
The liberal peppering of antisemitic innuendo and the denigration of
Islamic Sufism are dishonorable stains and can only undermine the
burgeoning and still fragile, spirit of ecumenicism among the world's
religions which strives to promote mutual understanding, respect and
tolerance as a sine qua non of world peace.
Copyright ©1989 by Deborah Belle Forman. Reprinted with
permission from Gnosis
#14, Winter 1989-'90
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