![]() ![]() Divided into three broad sections, this thesis first examines the role of local landowners and others as patrons of the house in the most obvious sense, that of the bestowal of lands or other assets upon the house. Although in many ways atypical of its order, not least in the quality and quantity of its surviving source material, Torre provides an excellent case study of how a medium-sized medieval monastery interacted with the world around it, and how the abbey itself was affected by that interaction. Torre Abbey was a rural Premonstratensian monastery in south-east Devon. In serendipity, this exercise of configuring truth is preambular to what seems to be an uncharted concept – literary epistemology. This is an exposition that seeks to marry philosophical investigation with literary dissemination, as what was once done by the Scholastics to science and theology, under the semiotic machination of prose, narratives, discourses, tracts, imprints and metric lines. In this exposition, the researcher brings light on Umberto Eco’s labyrinthine semiotics just as the lamp of William of Baskerville and his faithful novice, Adso of Melk, illuminated the abbey’s labyrinthine library amidst misleading signs that lead to even puzzling directions purposely fashioned to shroud the way to a euphoric realization of truth, the epiphany of which is aggravated by being essentially tucked away between words, signs and symbols. And in this cyclical world of learning and doing, stumbling upon both is a necessity: the latter being dead-ends (enigmatic, allegorical, cerebral, undetermined yet comprehensible, theoria), the former as winding hallways (tedious, verbatim, sentient, predetermined yet unpredictable, praxis) the total experience of which would give clues that would, not without challenge, lead to the heart of the matter. In the midst of this convoluted incertitude, it is imperative that a traveler (writer, teacher, student, reader) must, therefore, brave the walled pathways of fiction and reality – walls fortified by words, signs and symbols. It is thus tantamount to claim that, in the complex compendium of discursive practices, fiction and reality compound and compliment each other, inviolably hinged together like the essence of a triangle, inevitably resulting to a journey that is obstructed by a gamut of perplexing interpretations, incorrigible ideas, indistinct cognition, illusory information, unwise counsel, confounded inspiration, unfounded assertion, meaningless names, unintelligible signs that is twin brother to incomprehensible symbols, ambiguous expressions, sophistry, rumor, not to mention lies and deceit, which, for the uninitiated, sadly concludes to making trivial nominalism a province of truth. And in both ways, mortal beings, his finite intellect trapped between the crevices of a feeble mind, can only find the comforting utility of words, notwithstanding its multifarious forms, to assist him in traversing one of life’s many odysseys. One way or another, this book will keep you up until The Stroke of Midnight.“In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… and the duty of every faithful monk would be to repeat every day with chanting humility the one never-changing event whose incontrovertible truth can be asserted.” (From the first two lines of The Name of the Rose) It is but relatively just and ontological that every thinking creature’s unending quest, though debatably whether by volition or revelation, to discover truth arguably either by the metaphors of fiction or by the empirical matrix of reality. Some men have no control over the beast within, while others endure the wickedness of a curse. He can become a beast as wicked and evil as anything hell can expel. Borne from the desire for youth and beauty, a man can be driven to extreme lengths. Men caught coupling with other men are exiled to a verdant planet in whose breathtaking jungles lurks the last of an ancient race.Īnd finally there are the creatures within ourselves. Many centuries into the future, man-love is illegal. They walk amongst us during daylight hours - creatures like an ancient demon from the sea, ghosts of pirates long since dead, and a beast of blackbirds whose hunger is not for love or lust, but revenge.Įven other worlds are not safe from creatures of the night. And the Devil himself is free to roam and take what he wants from those who don't know any better. Vampires hunt, not just for blood but for men worthy enough to join their ranks. When the moon is high and the land is sleeping, gods descend and transform into men of such beauty, they are irresistible to mere mortals. Yet human desire isn't the only thing the darkness brings with it. ![]()
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