Baudolino by Umberto Eco

A literary jewel I bought at an insultingly cheap bargain at only 30 Philippine Pesos from National Book Store. Although four out of the 522 pages are cut on the edges where the texts are uncomfortably and distortedly printed, you have nothing but your brain to connect the missing texts and it’s amazing how my brain impatient as it is on all matters have gestalt-ize the chapter. That probably explains the bargain but still it is not just, it is not fair for a book so rich, so brilliant, so entertaining, so paradoxical, and hysterically funny, I explode in laughter like silly while I taste and swallow the words beautifully penned in a manner, a literary moron like me could digest and come to terms with a book grinning from ear to ear fully and happily satisfied.

Baudolino is an epic story set in the 12th century about Baudolino himself, the greatest fraud in the history of mankind. His wild and fertile imaginations have snatched him the trust of a King who adopted him as a son; a Queen for a lover – well almost; and a series of adventures and misadventures that brought him to kill his surrogate father; visit the mythical land of Presbyter John – a melting pot of language, religion, culture, and the most unlikely of creatures – one of which has a penis on their belly that function like an antennae of some insects of which at the slightest change in temperature or wind, stiffen and vibrate; and finally fell in love and impregnate a half-human half-goat fugitive of the forest.

Umberto Eco is a crazy writer and I like crazy writers with an outrageously silly imagination bounded by nothing and no one and not even himself.

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