Customer Reviews

The Island of the Day Before

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Many reviewers of The Island of the Day Before seem to fault the volume for many features which, were they familiar with the literature from which it is derived, they would find to be its greatest assets. Just one example is Eco's wonderful description of the Deluge which cannot be appreciated without having read Ovid. As with all of Eco's works a healthy interest in philosophy and semiotics is really required to follow the entire work. (DeGriva's mandering about the ship for instance can be viewed as a metaphor for the abductive line of reasoning, something Eco deals with extensively in his scholarly works.) This volume is demanding, as others have noted, and we seem to live in a world where we don't expect books to make demands of us, so for many readers this book may be too complex. However, if one is truly interested in learning the topics which interest the polymath Eco this volume is a treasure trove for what you learn along the way. If one wants only familiar words and a simple plot, do not read Eco--you will probably miss the point.

The meaning behind the name of this book struck me about a quarter of the way through. Sometimes I forget titles while I read and just enjoy the contents. But this had so much significance to what the book was actually about, it stayed with me. Imagine; even if only 'imagined', the ability to swim to an island within your sight, and arrive in the prior day. Not too shabby, compared with most titles I see, and the meanings behind them.

But a clever title is not all to be found with this Umberto Eco novel. Theology; existentialism; lost language; and even one of my favorite words (discovered first while performing in 'The Pirates of Penzance); escutcheon.

Others criticize Eco on his meandering thoughts and ideas; on his half-truths/half-fictions; his playful use of alternate reality; and his obvious disregard for probability. I say 'what the heck are you reading Eco for, then?'

It took me four years of owning this book to read it. Prior to this, I could not do it. But now, with Name of the Rose and Baudolino under my belt, I thoroughly enjoyed this book, devouring it from cover to cover, and opening my mind to all that Eco has to offer...

Roberto, the 'hero' of the story, finds himself stranded on board the Daphne, a boat anchored just offshore an unreachable island. Without wind, without crew, and without a know-how of swimming, Roberto explores his new 'prison', having survived a shipwreck of the vessel Amaryllis.

Finding that he is indeed NOT alone on the boat, Roberto prepares to flush out the intruder and face him down. But what Roberto discovers is not quite what he set out to find.
The novel flows back and forth in time, as well as in and out of 'reality' as Roberto weaves a tale of his childhood and the invention of his dark twin Ferrante, who dogs him throughout his life, to the discovery of his lady-love, Lilia; to his induction as a spy for Cardinal Richelieu; to his arrival on the Daphne, and the education he receives there in mapping the latitudes and longitudes of the planet.

Like the other 2 Eco novels I have read, there is so much to be gleaned from the pages of this book...whether you enjoy the mingling of fact and fiction or not, for an avid reader like myself, willing to open my mind to flights of fancy...the challenge to your thought processes cannot be beat.

A wonderful read....and worth the wait to be able to accomplish it.

Roberto della Griva, the protagonist of The Island of the Day Before, was born in 1614, a member of one of the minor noble families of northern Italy, vassals of the Marquis of Monferrato.

While still a young child, Roberto manages to convince himself that he has an evil brother, Ferrante, kept secret by his family, to whom he ascribes all his bad actions. Ferrante serves to explain Roberto's bad luck, for everything bad that happens to Roberto is Ferrante's fault and Roberto must therefore go through life being punished for Ferrante's misdeeds.

At the age of sixteen, Roberto's father is killed at the Siege of Casale, the fortress guarding the frontier between Italy and France. Roberto manages to return to Italy long enough to arrange a yearly income for himself before travelling to France.

Roberto arrives in Paris in the early 1640s, at the moment of the transition of power between Cardinal Richelieu and Cardinal Mazarin. Having an interest in astronomy and philosophy, Roberto frequents the scientific salons and we learn much about the early 17th century. During the course of his visits, Roberto falls in love with one the great ladies of Paris and mistakenly believes that she returns his love. He begins writing her a series of leters that eventually fall into the hands of the narrator and form the basis of the book.

Ferrante intervenes, however, in the guise of Cardinal Mazarin and Roberto's carefree life in Paris comes to an end. France is engaged in a race with England to find the answer to the problem of longitude, and Mazarin blackmails Roberto into booking passage on the Dutch vessel, the Amaryllis, bound for the South Seas. When the ship sinks during a storm, Roberto, for once, forsaken by Ferrante and enjoying good luck instead of bad, is the sole survivor.

Roberto eventually washes up on the Daphne, another deserted Dutch ship that was also sailing in the interests of science. Anchored off an island in the South Pacific, the Daphne is located on what Roberto comes to believe is the Prime Meridian. He thus believes that when he sits on the deck of the ship on the west side, and gazes at the island on the east side, he is truly looking at the day before.

Roberto soon learns that the Daphne is not quite as deserted as it had seemed when he encounters the Jesuit priest, Father Caspar Wanderdrossel.

Father Wanderdrossel has also been seeking the mystery of longitude in hopes that the answer will reveal to him the source of the Great Flood. Besides engaging in a series of lengthy discussions with Wanderdrossel, Roberto also spends his time aboard the Daphne writing memoirs and love letters.

Despite the fact that the island to the east is inhabited by cannibals and neither Roberto nor Wanderdrossel can swim, they decide they must reach the shore. Wanderdrossel devises a strange invention that would seem to permit him to walk to the island over the ocean floor, but when Roberto lowers him over the side, Wanderdrossel is never seen again.

Alone, Roberto occupies himself with his writings which now deal almost exclusively with his alter ego, Ferrante. Roberto eventually comes up with a fitting end for Ferrante and soon after, he, himself drowns, leaving behind only his letters and memoirs.

The Island of the Day Before seems to have no point and, in fact, it does not. But this is only part of the book's beauty. Eco uses the book to give us a grand tour of the 17th century while the characters search for cohesion and meaning that just isn't there.

This isn't always bad. In The Name of the Rose, Eco played out the same theme while giving us a discourse on late medieval ecclesiastical politics, but he also entertained us brilliantly with a Sherlock Holmes parody.

For some people, part of this novel's problem no doubt lies in the time period in which it is set. In the 17th century, no one expected life to make much sense. People lived according to signs and symbols. Their prose and politics were complex and obscure. While a few, such as Descartes, searched for answers, most simply accepted what was imposed.

Eco might argue that his novel only parodies life, which, ultimately, has no point. And, who knows, he could be right. But The Island of the Day Before is not real life. It is a book and Eco is a master writer. As beautiful as it is, the journey from beginning to end should have been larger than life and a lot more fun.

Roberto della Griva, son of minor Italian gentry, sets off with his father to defend a besieged city during the Thirty Year's War. After his father's valiant death, he eschews a return home for the experiences of French society. It is here, within the soirees, that Roberto hones his philosophical skills and eventually finds himself manipulated by his imaginary brother, Ferrante, into a sea voyage to the other side of the world.

Cardinal Richelieu's successor charges Roberto with the task of discerning the secrets of longitude while embarked upon an English vessel. In a storm, the vessel is lost and Roberto, lashed to a door, days later is cast upon an abandoned ship anchored near an uncharted island in the Pacific.

From here, Eco takes the reader on a philosophical, metaphysical, and mystical trip that is not nearly as entertaining as his preceding narrative. Roberto wrestles the mysteries of time, space, heaven and hell, and authors a romance in which he wins the hand of his true love from the cold and calculating grasp of his imaginary brother.

It is all a bit much. Several pages are devoted to the self-awareness of stone. Though the book has some fascinating stretches, in the end, Eco's endeavor for abstract slays the rythym a good novel needs. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it, but I would not recommend it as a "must" read.

Let me start by saying that I consider Umberto Eco the finest writer of this century.

His mastery of words, his elegaic visions translated into prose, his character depth like bottomless wells, his intricate plotlines and signposts of erudite information... above all his love of symbology in conjunction with his love of words woven into his overwhelming ability to create riveting storylines endears his writing to me so that rumours of a new "Eco" makes me almost breathless.

That said, let me explain the sort of readership who will enjoy this cartwheeling extravaganza of hope, loneliness, isolation, history, intellectualism and richness of detail.

1. You will need a larger vocabulary than that necessary for the reading of "Harry Potter", or you will willingly embrace the opportunity to increase your word-store by keeping a dictionary nearby. By doing this, you will be following in the great tradition endorsed by Tolkien and Samuel Johnson.

2. You will need to enjoy a storyline that is anything but straightforward. In this novel in particular, Umberto Eco takes many streams of narrative, delves also into the purely descriptive, and weaves it all into a story that is not limited by the linear.

3. You will need to find beautifully phrased writing and well-coloured choice of words intoxicating and delicious.

4. You will need not to be put off by a storyline that moves between different time periods in the life of the main character.

5. You will need to be ready for something that is more demanding than genre fiction.

6. You will need an explorative excitement in fiction.

If you feel the above points could describe you, take the plunge into the wild and star-canopied oceans stirred up by the ferris wheels of imagination. The story, as much as I can describe it briefly, concerns a young man who, semi-conscious, washes up near a ship-wreck some little distance off an island. What led to his being there, the story of the ship itself, the young man's past, the elements of history that paint a part of his history too, considerations of meaning, solitide, companionship, swordsmanship, sieges, elegance, naive eagerness, the meaning of a dove flame-orange in colour, the meaning of this island "of the day before", courage, foolishness, wisdom, speculations and wonders are like clusters in the great galaxy of Umberto Eco's writing. It's vivid, exciting, rich with the sort of descriptiveness that tumbles hastily, one word or phrase chasing another in an endless dance of cataclysmic wonder.

This novel was so immensely satisfying for me that I sighed as though replete after a banquet when I finished it. I find the images created by the words coming to my mind often. Some reviewers have said it's not one of Umberto Eco's best novels; I disagree. It was delight after delight after delight.

For those willing to drown and be reborn within the delicious writing of this work... enjoy!

IotDB is the weakest of Eco's three novels--but that is like saying Luke is the weakest of the Gospels. IotDB is a great read, but when held up to either Name of the Rose or Foucault's Pendulum, it pales in comparison.
Why? Well, for two reasons. One, IotDB is actually two books, the first could be called "the Education of Roberto della Griva" while the second would be titled "the Island of the Day Before"; and the two books are so disparate in tone and style that it is disconcerting to read. Two, unlike his other books, Eco has a tendency in this one to say too little about too much and too much about too little; he seems unable to find a healthy balance between the two, and he'll either ramble on about one thing for an inordinate amount of time, or ramble over a whole lot of things in a very quick amount of time.
That being said, it is still an excellent book, and if you have not read Eco before, it is a great one to cut your teeth on. The traditionally tough Umberto Eco opening is considerably longer in IotDB, so you will be better prepared for the other books. Also, once you get past the opening, the book is a breeze and is lot easier to read than the other two.
A note for anything Eco: if you read something, and you don't understand it, keep going; either it is important and will be fully explained later, or it is unimportant and isn't explained later--in which case you need not worry about it.

Although Umberto Eco began wonderfully with "The Name of the Rose," "The Island of the Day Before" is truly his crowning achievement. There are few books where the prose so perfectly transcends the plot that the end result is the purified, refined pleasure of reading beautifully crafted writing. I found my self reading and rereading passages of no importance simply because the play of language was so immaculate. If you are looking for the mystery and excitement of "The Name of the Rose" and "Foucault's Pendulum," look elsewhere, but if you want to read an example of the finest fiction this century has to offer, this book is as good as it gets.

OK, this book has gotten a very wide range of mixed reviews. Basically, the deal seems to be this - after "The Name of the Rose" and "Foucalt's Pendulum," one might have thought of Eco as the writer with the trademark combination of erudition, history, intellectual theory and popular narration.However, this book is none of that - it is a very strange blend of some of these features, but in a different way that ends up being unappreciated by many.

There is no essential plot to the book. It is about Roberto, a young nobleman who becomes cast away on an abandonned ship. What follows is a wide array of the memories of his life thus far, his quirky thoughts and happening on the ship, as well as the reasons why he is on the ship. The result feels like 5 or 6 books stuck together - which is interesting but hard to read. Thus, the first book might be entitled "The Anatomy of Rennaisance Sieges", the second "Paris as an Intellectual Flowerbed", the third "The Hunt for Longitude as a Means of Conquering the World", the fourth "A Jesuit Perspective of Metaphysics" and the fifth "The Yearning for the Orange Dove". All of these describe each of the implicit sections of the book, but don't do it justice.

As can be seen from the titles, the book parades you through the various intellectual milestones of the Rennaisance, from theology to metaphysics to astronomy and the history of science. If you are interested in any of these, the book is a worthwhile read. Also, despite the style being deliberately obscure, I felt Eco's signature playful manner of rearranging ideas shine through.

Also, unlike previous books, we have a more traditional protagonist - and I enjoyed identifying and getting to like Roberto in his idealism, slightly-misguided intellectualism and quirky worldview. All of this is characterised by his desire for the Orange Dove (towards the end of the book), where I found emotional overtones that are rare in Eco.

On the down side, it is definitely hard to read - at times it seems like it's completely deliberate and that's annoying. The highly fragmented nature doesn't help either. If you do read it, it helps if you're a fast reader and can take a short time to do it in - otherwise you'll end up like me, with flashes of insight from each day of reading, but because of the struggle, it becomes a long chain of flashes that are hard to connect together.

I liked it but I can see why many didn't. This is the book for you if you don't mind:

1)putting aside prior perceptions of Eco

2)a deliberately hard read and

3)fragmented ideas (where it's more up to the reader to make sense of it all)

To put it simply, this book is fabulous. It is beautifully crafted, elegantly written, and, as an added bonus, even wonderfully translated. All of Eco's books are remarkable, and each has its own specific merits; this book stands out most for its poetic quality. In a Borges short story there is a line about a noun consisting of the rising sun and the cry of a bird, and Eco has brilliantly suceeded at capturing that particular "noun." All language and images and philosophy, this book is a delight to read and re-read.

The meanderings of Eco in this book are as dull as the main character. Literary devices used, like a strong interrupting narrative voice that pops up randomly, just seems heavy-handed and insincere. Having just finished his _Foucault's Pendulum_, I was very let down and had to speed-read the last chapters just to get through it without admitting I blew 20 bucks. We know you are brilliant and knowledgeable, Mr. Eco--you don't have to prove it--just tell us a good story.