Foucault's pendulum - Umberto Eco [92]
“Then the Rosicrucians copied from the Templars.”
“What would I do without you, darling?”
“That Aglie’s ruined you. You’re looking everywhere for revelation.”
“Me? I’m not looking for anything.”
“And a good thing, too. Watch out for the opiate of the masses.”
“El pueblo unido jamas sera vencido.”
“Go ahead, laugh. So what did those idiots say?”
“Those idiots learned everything they knew in Africa, weren’t you listening?”
“And while they were in Africa, they started packing us up and sending us here.”
“Thank God. Otherwise you might have been born in Pretoria.” I kissed her. “Beyond the door,” I went on, “they found a sepulcher with seven sides and seven corners, miraculously illuminated by an artificial sun. In the middle was a circular altar decorated with various mottoes or emblems, on the order of NEQUAQUAM VACUUM....”
“Quack quack what? Signed, Donald Duck?”
“It’s Latin. It means ‘the void does not exist.’ “
“That’s good to know. Otherwise, think of the horror—”
“Do me a favor and turn on the fan, animula vagula blan-dula.”
“But it’s winter.”
“Only for you people of the wrong hemisphere, darling. For me it’s July. Please, the fan. It’s not because you’re a woman; just that it’s on your side of the bed. Thanks. Anyway, under the altar they found Rosencreutz’s body, intact. In his hand was a copy of Book I, crammed with infinite knowledge. Too bad the world can’t read it—the manifesto says—otherwise, gulp, wow, brr, squisssh!”
“Ouch.”
“As I was saying, the manifesto ends by promising that a huge treasure remains to be discovered, along with stupendous revelations about the ties between the macrocosm and the microcosm. And don’t think that these were a bunch of tacky alchemists offering to show us how to make gold. No, that was small potatoes. They were aiming higher, in every sense of the word. The manifesto announced that the Fama was being distributed in five languages, and, soon to appear on this screen, the Confessio. The brothers awaited replies and reviews from learned and ignorant alike. Write, telephone, send in your names, and we’ll see if you’re worthy to share our secrets, of which we have given you only the faintest notion. Sub umbra alarum tuarum lehova.”
“Which means?”
“It’s a formula of conclusion. Over and out. It sounds as if the Rosicrucians were dying to tell what they had learned, and were anxiously waiting for the right listener. But not one word about what it was they knew.”
“Like that fellow whose\picture was in the ad we saw on the plane: Send me ten dollars, and I’ll tell you how to become a millionaire.”
“And it’s no lie. He has discovered the secret. And so have I.”
“Listen, you better read on. You’re acting as if we just met tonight.”
“With you, it’s always like the first time.”
“Ah, but I don’t get too familiar with the first one who comes along. Anyway, you have quite a collection now. First Templars, then Rosicrucians. You haven’t read Plekhanov by any chance?”
“No. I’m waiting to discover his sepulcher a hundred and twenty years from now. Unless Stalin buried him with tractors.”
“Idiot. I’m taking a bath.”
30
And the famous confraternity of the Rosy Cross declares even now that throughout the universe delirious prophecies circulate. In fact, the moment the ghost appeared (though Fama and Confessio prove that this was a mere invention of idle minds), it produced a hope of universal reform, and generated things partly ridiculous and absurd, partly incredible. Thus upright and honest men of various countries exposed themselves to contempt and derision in order to lend open support, or to reveal themselves to these brothers...through the Mirror of Solomon or in some other occult way.
—Christoph von Besold (?), Appendix to Tommaso Campanella, Van der Spanischen Monarchy, 1623
The best came later, and when Amparo returned, I was able to give her a foretaste of wondrous events. “It’s an incredible story. The manifestoes appeared in an age teeming with texts of that sort. Everyone was seeking renewal, a golden century, a Cockaigne of the spirit. Some pored over