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Non Eco Piu

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    Non Eco Piu

    Umberto Eco has died at 84

    On the same day (over here) as Harper Lee

    Two of my all time favourite authors gone within 24 hours.

    What a shit year this has been for deaths so far.

    RIP

    #2
    Non Eco Piu

    This. Sad, sad day.

    Comment


      #3
      Non Eco Piu

      I haven't read anything by either of them, but wow. My girlfriend went to bed about an hour ago and she'll be very saddened tomorrow when she hears about Eco.

      Comment


        #4
        Non Eco Piu

        I found some of his work too hard going - like you needed a doctorate in multiple disciplines to really get all the references and allusions. But I read "The Island of the Day Before" while living on a small island not far from the date line, and it mesmerised me, and The Name of The Rose was excellent too. I couldn't get into Foucault's Pendulum, but I want to try again. And I would really love to read The Prague Cemetery (and now will, having been reminded of as a result of this sad news).

        Though, for fans of vintage Partridge I suspect he will be most clearly remembered for this:
        "I'm Alan Partridge. I'm the man who makes Jimmy Hill look like Umberto Eco"
        "What's Umberto Eco? Translate that now!"

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          #5
          Non Eco Piu

          I hadn't heard that Partridge line before (or perhaps I'd forgotten it). I've long vaguely intended to give "The Name of the Rose" another try, having found it fascinating but got too frustrated by my inability to understand all the passages of Latin which I remember being a prominent feature.

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            #6
            Non Eco Piu

            I recently re-read Michael Dibdin's Back To Bologna, which features a character called Edgardo Ugo, a public intellectual and professor of semantics at the titular city's university. The satirical portrait of Eco served as a reminder that even the frothier aspects of his public persona had a certain grandeur and charm in their silliness.

            I seem to remember being quite impressed when he was hospitalised with suspected heart trouble that, on closer examination, was revealed to be nothing more than the deleterious effects of a nine hour lunch.

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