Eco: Foucalt's Pendulum

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by eco umberto foucault


  "It won't be of any use to you, you know. You're not planning, surely, to rewrite the manuscripts you don't read anyway."

  "It's for riling, making schedules, updating lists. If I write a book with it, it'll be my own, not someone else's."

  "You swore that you'd never write anything of your own."

  "That I wouldn't inflict a manuscript on the world, true. When I concluded I wasn't cut out to be a protagonist¡X"

  "You decided you'd be an intelligent spectator. I know all that. And so?"

  "If an intelligent spectator hums the second movement on his way home from the concert, that doesn't mean he wants to conduct it in Carnegie Hall."

  "So you'll try humming literature to make sure you don't write any.''

  "It would be an honest choice."

  "You think so?"

  Diotallevi and Belbo, both from Piedmont, often claimed that any good Piedmontese had the ability to listen politely, look you in the eye, and say "You think so?" in a tone of such apparent sincerity that you immediately felt his profound disapproval. I was a barbarian, they used to say: such subtleties would always be lost on me.

  "Barbarian?" I would protest. "I may have been born in Milan, but my family came from Val d'Aosta."

  "Nonsense," they said. "You can always tell a genuine Piedmontese immediately by his skepticism."

  "I'm a skeptic."

  "No, you're only incredulous, a doubter, and that's different."

  I knew why Diotallevi distrusted Abulafia. He had heard that word processors could change the order of letters. A test, thus, might generate its opposite and result in obscure prophecies. "It's a game of permutation," Belbo said, trying to explain. "Temurah? Isn't that the name for it? Isn't that what the devout rabbi does to ascend to the Gates of Splendor?''

  "My dear friend," Diotallevi said, "you'll never understand anything. It's true that the Torah¡Xthe visible Jbrah, that is¡Xis only one of the possible permutations of the letters of the eternal Torah, as God created it and delivered it to the angels. By rearranging the letters of the book over the centuries, we may someday arrive again at the original Torah. But the important thing is not the finding, it is the seeking, it is the devotion with which one spins the wheel of prayer and scripture, discovering the truth little by little. If this machine gave you the truth immediately, you would not recognize it, because your heart would not have been purified by the long quest. And in an office! No, the Book must be murmured day after day in a little ghetto hovel where you learn to lean forward and keep your arms tight against your hips so there will be as little space as possible between the hand that holds the Book and the hand that turns the pages. And if you moisten your fingers, you must raise them vertically to your lips, as if nibbling unleavened bread, and drop no crumb. The word must be eaten very slowly. It must melt on the tongue before you can dissolve it and reorder it. And take care not to slobber it onto your caftan. If even a single letter is lost, the thread that is about to link you with the higher sefirot is broken. To this Abraham Abulafia dedicated his life, while your Saint Thomas was toiling to find God with his five paths.

  "Abraham Abulafia's Hokhmath ha-Zerufvtas at once the science of the combination of letter and the science of the purification of the heart. Mystic logic, letters whirling in infinite change, is the world of bliss, it is the music of thought, but see that you proceed slowly, and with caution, because your machine may bring you delirium instead of ecstasy. Many of Abulafia's disciples were unable to walk the fine line between contemplation of the names of God and the practice of magic. They manipulated the names in an effort to turn them into a talisman, an instrument of dominion over nature, unaware¡Xas you are unaware, with your machine¡Xthat every letter is bound to a part of the body, and shifting a consonant without the knowledge of its power may affect a limb, its position or nature, and then you find yourself deformed, a monster. Physically, for life; spiritually, for eternity."

  "Listen," Belbo said to him then. "You haven't discouraged me, you know. On the contrary. I have Abulafia¡Xthat's what I'm calling him¡Xat my command, the way our friends used to have the golem. Only, my Abulafia will be more cautious and respectful. More modest. The problem is to find all the permutations of the name of God, isn't it? Well, this manual has a neat little program in Basic for listing all possible sequences of four letters. It seems tailor-made for YHVH. Should I give it a whirl?" And he showed Diotallevi the program; Diotallevi had to agree it looked cabalistic:

  10 REM anagrams

  20 INPUT L$(1), L$(2), L$(3), L$(4)

  30 PRINT

  40 FOR I1 = 1 TO 4

  50 FOR I2 = 1 TO 4

  60 IF I2 = I1 THEN 130

  70 FOR I3 = 1 TO 4

  80 IF I3 = I1 THEN 120

  90 IF I3 = I1 THEN 120

  100 LET I4 = 10-(I1+I2+I3)

  110 LPRINT L$(I1);L$(I2);L$(I3);L$(I4)

  120 NEXT I3

  130 NEXT I2

  140 NEXT I1

  150 END

  "Try it yourself. When it asks for input, type in Y, H, V, H, and press the ENTER key. But you may be disappointed. There are only twenty-four possible permutations."

  "Holy Seraphim! What can you do with twenty-four names of God? You think our wise men hadn't made that calculation? Read the Sefer Yesirah, Chapter Four, Section Sixteen. And they didn't have computers. ¡¥Two Stones make two Houses. Three Stones make six Houses. Four Stones make twenty-four Houses. Five Stones make one hundred and twenty Houses. Six Stones make seven hundred and twenty Houses. Seven Stones make five thousand and forty Houses. Beyond this point, think of what the mouth cannot say and the ear cannot hear. ¡¥ You know what this is called today? Factor analysis. And you know why the Tradition warns that beyond this point a man should quit? Because if there were eight letters in the name of God, there would be forty thousand three hundred and twenty permutations, and if ten, there would be three million six hundred twenty-eight thousand eight hundred, and the permutations of your own wretched little name, first name and last, would come to almost forty million. Thank God you don't have a middle initial, like so many Americans, because then there would be more than four hundred million. And if the names of God contained twenty-seven letters ¡X in the Hebrew alphabet there are no vowels, but twenty -two consonants plus five variants¡X then the number of His possible names would have twenty-nine digits. Except that you have to allow for repetitions, because the name of God could be aleph repeated twenty-seven times, in which case factor analysis is of no use: with repetitions you'd have to take twenty-seven to the twenty-seventh power, which is, I believe, something like four hundred forty-four billion billion billion billion. Four times ten with thirty-nine zeros after it."

  "You're cheating, trying to scare me. I've read your Sefer Yesirah, too. There are twenty-two fundamental letters, and with them¡Xwith them alone¡XGod formed all creation."

  "Let's not split hairs. Five, at this order of magnitude, won't help. If you say twenty-two to the twenty-second power instead of twenty-seven to the twenty-seventh, you still come up with something like three hundred and forty billion billion billion. On the human scale, it doesn't make much difference. If I counted one, two, three, and so on, one number every second, it would take me almost thirty-two years to get to one lousy little billion. And it's more complicated than that, because cabala can't be reduced to the Sefer Yesirah alone. Besides which, there's a good reason why any real permutation of the Torah must include all twenty-seven letters. It's true that if the last five letters fall in the middle of a word, they are transformed into their normal variant. But not always. In Isaiah 9:2, for instance, there's the word "LMRBH," lemarbah¡Xwhich, note the coincidence, means to multiply¡Xbut the mem in the middle is written as a final mem."

  "Why is that?"

  "Every letter corresponds to a number. The normal mem is forty, but the final mem is six hundred. This has nothing to do with temurah, which teaches permutation; it involves, rather, gematria, which seeks sublime affinities between words a
nd their numeric values. With the final mem the word "LMRBH" totals not two hundred and seventy-seven but eight hundred and thirty-seven, and thus is equivalent to ThThZL, or thath zal, which means ¡¥he who gives profusely.' So you can see why all twenty-seven letters have to be considered: it isn't just the sound that matters, but the number too. Which brings us to my calculation. There are more than four hundred billion billion billion billion possibilities. Have you any idea how long it would take to try them all out, using a machine? And I'm not talking about your miserable little computer. At the rate of one permutation per second, you would need seven billion billion billion billion minutes, or one hundred and twenty-three million billion billion billion hours, which is a little more than five million billion billion billion days, or fourteen thousand billion billion billion years, which comes to a hundred and forty billion billion billion centuries, or fourteen billion billion billion millennia. But suppose you had a machine capable of generating a million permutations per second. Just think of the time you'd save with your electronic wheel: you'd need only fourteen thousand billion billion millennia!

  "The real and true name of God, the secret name, is as long as the entire Torah, and there is no machine in the world capable of exhausting all its permutations, because the Torah itself is a permutation with repetitions, and the art of temurah tells us to change not the twenty-seven letters of the alphabet but each and every character in the Torah, for each character is a letter unto itself, no matter how often it appears on other pages. The two hes in the name YHVH therefore count as two different letters. And if you want to Calculate all the permutations of all the characters in the entire Torah, then all the zeros in the world will not be enough for you. But go ahead, do what you can with your pathetic little accountant's machine. A machine does exist, to be sure, but it wasn't manufactured in your Silicon Valley: it is the holy cabala, or Tradition, and for centuries the rabbis have been doing what no computer can do and, let us hope, will never be able to do. Because on the day all the combinations are exhausted, the result should remain secret, and in any case the universe will have completed its cycle¡Xand we will all be consumed in the dazzling glory of the great Metacyclosynchro-tron."

  "Amen," Jacopo Belbo said.

  Diotallevi was already driving him toward these excesses, and I should have kept that in mind. How often had I seen Belbo, after office hours, running programs to check Diotallevi's calculations, trying to show him that at least Abu could give results in a few seconds, not having to work by hand on yellowing parchment or use antediluvian number systems that did not even include zero? But Abu gave his answers in exponential notation, so Belbo was unable to daunt Diotallevi with a screen full of endless zeros: a pale visual imitation of the multiplication of combinatorial universes, of the exploding swarm of all possible worlds.

  After everything that had happened, it seemed impossible to me, I thought as I stared at the Rosicrucian engraving, that Belbo would not have returned to those exercises on the name of God in selecting a password. And if, as I guessed, he was also preoccupied with numbers like thirty-six and one hundred and twenty, they would enter into it, too. He would not have simply combined the four Hebrew letters, knowing that four Stones made only twenty-four Houses.

  But he might have played with the Italian transcription, which contained two vowels. With six letters¡Xlahveh¡Xhe had seven hundred and twenty permutations at his disposal. The repetitions didn't count, because Diotallevi had said that the two hes must be taken as two different letters. Belbo could have chosen, say, the thirty-sixth or the hundred and twentieth.

  I had arrived at Belbo's at about eleven; it was now one. I would have to write a program for anagrams of six letters, and the best way to do that was to modify the program I already had written for four.

  I needed some fresh air. I went out, bought myself some food, another bottle of whiskey.

  I came back, left the sandwiches in a corner, and started on the whiskey as I inserted the Basic disk and went to work. I made the usual mistakes, and the debugging took me a good half hour, but by two-thirty the program was functional and the seven hundred and twenty names of God were running down the screen.

  iahueh

  iahuhe

  iahtuh

  iahehu

  iahhve

  iahhev

  iauheh

  iauhhe

  iauehh

  iauehh

  iauhhe

  iauhih

  iaehuh

  iaehhv

  iaeuhh

  iaeuhh

  iaehhu

  iaehuh

  iahhu*

  iahhev

  lahuhe

  iahueh

  iahehv

  iaheuh

  ihaueh

  ihauhe

  ihaeuh

  ihaehu

  ihahue

  ihahcu

  i hwaeh

  ihuahe

  ihueah

  ihueha

  ihuhae

  ihuhea

  iheauh

  iheahv

  iheuah

  iheuha

  Ihehau

  ihehva

  ihhaue

  ihhaev

  ihhuae

  ihhuea

  ihheau

  ihheua

  iuaheh

  iuahhe

  iuaehh

  iuaehh

  iuahhe

  i uahth

  iuhaeh

  i uhahe

  iuehah

  iuehha

  iuhahe

  iuhaeh

  i uhhae

  iuhhea

  iuheah

  iuheha

  itahuh

  i eahhu

  ieavhh

  ieauhh

  ieahhv

  ieahuh

  iehauh

  iehahu

  iehuah

  iehuha

  iehhau

  iehhua

  itvahh

  ieuahh

  ievhah

  ieuhha

  iiuhah

  ieuhha

  iehahu

  iehauh

  iehhau

  iehhva

  iehwah

  iehMha

  lhahue

  ihaheu

  ihauhe

  ihaueh

  ihaehv

  ihaeuh

  ihhaue

  i hhaeu

  ihhuae

  ihhuea

  ihheau

  ihheua

  ihuahe

  ihuaeh

  ihuhae

  ihuhea

  ihueah

  ihueha

  iheahu

  iheauh

  ihehau

  ihehua

  iheuah

  iheuha

  aihueh

  ai huhe

  ai heuh

  aihihu

  ai hhue

  aihheu

  ai uheh

  ai uhhe

  aiuehh

  aiuehh

  aiuhhe

  aiuh?h

  aiehuh

  aiehhv

  aieuhh

  aieuhh

  ai ehhu

  ai ehuh

  aihhue

  aihheu

  aih-uhe

  aihueh

  ai hehu

  aiheuh

  ahiueh

  ahiuhe

  ahieuh

  ahiehu

  ahihue

  ah i hew

  ahuieh

  ahu i he

  ahueih

  ahuehi

  ahuh ie

  ahvhei

  ahe i uh

  aheihu

  ahe u i h

  aheuhi

  aheh i u

  ahehui

  ahhii/B

  ahhieu

  ahhuie

  ahhye i

  ahhei v

  ahheu i

  auiheh

  aui hhe

  auiehh

  auiehh

/>   au ihhe

  auiheh

  auh i eh

  auhihe

  auheih

  auhehi

  auhhie

  auhhei

  aueihh

  auei hh

  aueh ih

  auehh i

  auehih

  auehhi

  auhihe

  avhieh

  auhhie

  aMhhei

  auhe ih

  auhehi

  aeihuh

  aeihhu

  aeiuhh

  aeiuhh

  aeihhu

  aeihuh

  aehiuh

  aeh i hu

  aehuih

  aehuhi

  aehhiu

  avhhu i

  aeu i hh

  aeuihh

  aeuh i h

  aeuhhi

  aeuhih

  a>uhhi

  aehihu

  aehi uh

  aehhiu

  aehhui

  aehuih

  aehuh i

  ahihue

  ahiheu

  ahiuhe

  ahiueh

  ahiehu

  ah iewh

  ahhiue

  ahhieu

  ahhuie

  ahhuei

  ahheiu

  ahheu i

  ahu i he

  ahy ieh

  ahuhie

  ahuhe i

  ahue i h

  ahuehi

  ahe i hu

  aheiuh

  aheh i u

  ahehui

  ahevih

  aheuhi

  I took the pages from the printer without separating them, as if I were consulting the scroll of the Torah. I tried name number thirty-six. And drew a blank. A last sip of whiskey, then with hesitant fingers I tried name number one hundred and twenty. Nothing.

  I wanted to die. Yet I felt that by now I was Jacopo Belbo, that he had surely thought as I was thinking. So I must have made some mistake, a stupid, trivial mistake. I was getting closer. Had Belbo, for some reason that escaped me, perhaps counted from the end of the list?

  Casaubon, you fool, I said to myself. Of course he started from the end. That is, he counted from right to left. Belbo had fed the computer the name of God transliterated into Latin letters, including the vowels, but the word was Hebrew, so he had written it from right to left. The input hadn't been IAHVEH, but HEVHAI. The order of the permutations had to be inverted.

  I counted from the end and tried both names again.

  Nothing.

  This was all wrong. I was clinging stubbornly to an elegant but false hypothesis. It happens to the best scientists.

 

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