Tuesday, 28 February 2017

Not suitable for flyover folk: The Prague Cemetery by Umberto Eco

(((Cynthia Ozick’s))) review on the back cover of the edition I read states the following: 
“His is a satanically dangerous novel, as are all ironic tales, especially if they should fall into the hands of a naïve reader. So: naïve readers, country bumpkins, gullible gapers, keep away! This magnificently sly, scarifying, circuitous, history-besotted jape is meant solely for the wise, the intrepid, and (if one may nowadays dare this biblical note) the righteous.”
With more than a litre or two of country bumpkin blood coursing through my veins, and as an affiliate of The League of Gullible Gapers, it’s no surprise Eco’s meticulous historical narrative of Jewish perfidy substantiated, beyond a doubt, the authenticity, truth and veracity of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. Before cracking open his masterpiece of archival research, an exhaustive chronical taking the reader on a journey through the sewer of Kike chicanery, my view of Yids in our midst was at level one on the ADL’s hierarchy of anti-Semitism; ‘meh, if they stay out of my way, things are okay.’ Half way through, anger rising, I was at level two; ‘how has nobody stopped these demons?’ When I finally put it down, the hour late and my eyes stinging from enmity, I was at level three; ‘to the ovens with them all, and this time use microwaves.’

But enough; having purloined a copy of Protocols, I have much work before me. 

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