Maps, Mazes, and Monsters:
The Iconography of the Library in Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose

By Adele J. Haft

Department of Classical and Oriental Studies at Hunter College, The City University of New York.

This work originally appeared in Studies in Iconography 14 (1995) 9-50. It appears here -- with new online links to illustrations -- courtesy of Arizona State University and the journal's former editor, Anthony Lacy Gully.

...On a round ball
A workeman that hath copies by, can lay
An Europe, Afrique, and an Asia,
And quickly make that, which was nothing, All.
-- John Donne, A Valediction: of Weeping

In The Name of the Rose, Umberto Eco has created two maps to help us visualize his fictitious abbey, in which occur, over seven days in late 1327, a number of ghastly and unaccountable deaths (1). As Brother William of Baskerville, Eco's Sherlock-Holmesian sleuth, and the young novice Adso investigate the monks' untimely demise, they discover that one of the maps guides them through the abbey's labyrinthine library to the Secretum, its 'secret' known only as the finis Africae, 'the end of Africa' (2). Yet both maps contain clues for comprehending and unraveling the mystery. Though inspired by a dazzling number of sources, Eco has deliberately modeled his diagrams on medieval mazes and world maps -- splendid mirrors for viewing the culture and self-perception of the Middle Ages. For readers of The Name of the Rose, the visual importance of Eco's maps within the novel has generated not only a fascination with the classical and medieval prototypes of these maps, but a desire to understand the history of medieval cartography from the perspective of Eco's twentieth-century creation. What follows then is a detailed exposition of the kinds of medieval maps Eco might have used as models for his monastery as well as for the library within it. By examining these maps in the context of medieval theology and philosophy we embark upon an adventure of our own, in which the discovery of the 'ultimate' cartographic source for Eco's library map will lead us logically and accidentally through worlds both known and unknown, accepted and imaginary, to the center of Eco's elaborate puzzle.
Of the maps produced in medieval Europe prior to the early fourteenth century, nearly 800 survive (3). These can be classified into three categories (4). One represents only that part of the earth known to be habitable and inhabited, what the Greeks called the oikoumene and the Romans terra habitabilis. Inspired by the practical maps of the Romans, this group of medieval maps nevertheless conforms to the biblical conceptions of an earth shaped like a circle or rectangle (5). The second group represents the earth as a sphere divided into areas that are habitable and uninhabitable, known and unknown. These maps reveal their debt to the speculative sciences of the Greeks, whose works generally reached the Middle Ages only through Latin compilations and translations. The third category, best represented by the world map of Beatus of Liebana (6), is a curious synthesis of the other two. Though resembling the flat-earth maps of the first family, it depicts to the south of the equator an 'unknown continent,' terra australis incognita. In producing his own maps, Eco has drawn upon all three groups, but it is the third that most intrigues him. It embodies the fundamental contradictions that characterize these mappaemundi or 'maps of the world,' as medieval writers and map makers grappled for over one thousand years with the problem of reconciling pagan science and experience with Church-sanctioned interpretations of geography and cosmology based upon the Bible. This same tension animates The Name of the Rose. Eco has also retained, in his maps, the flavor of these mappaemundi with their overwhelming tendency to represent the world as a Christian allegory to the detriment of geographical detail, which remained appallingly vague and imprecise in Western Europe long after the turn of the millennium (7).

Abbey map

Figure 1: The layout of the abbey; a map inside the front and back covers of The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani. Reprinted in a slightly modified version.

Eco's first map depicts the layout of the abbey. From the entrance in the west, a lane extends to the central church complex. Around the inside of the circuit walls stand the various buildings that contribute to the abbey's economy. But the most imposing structure is the Aedificium, the massive 'building' cleaving the northeastern comer of the walls. Seeing the abbey for the first time, Adso marvels at the sublime orientation of its church, whose entrance faces west but whose altar receives the light of the rising sun. This feature, coupled with the harmonious proportions of the abbey's design, leads Adso to contemplate how architecture emulates 'the order of the universe,' which the ancients called 'kosmos.' Ordered, self-sufficient and isolated on the peak of a mountain, Eco's abbey is a microcosm of the universe.
Only the Aedificium disturbs the perfect symmetry of Eco's abbey. The first sight of this building excites Adso's rapturous description of its square shape converted into an octagon by the addition of four heptagonal towers, one at each corner. His appreciation increases when he sees the three-storied Aedificium towering over the church, and he surmises that the octagonal fortress, which he imagines to have been erected by giants, is far older than the rest of the abbey. Yet the Aedificium also fills Adso with dread. From the beginning of The Name of the Rose, this building assumes a significance little in keeping with the religious and political duties that brought William and Adso to the abbey.
As Eco's abbey is a microcosm, his Aedificium is its focal point: a speculum mundi or 'mirror of [that] world.' The age and height of the Aedificium provide a graphic image of mankind's place in the universe, of the punishments and rewards in the hereafter. At the base of the cliff over which the Aedificium rises is found the body of a monk, believed to have been pushed from the building's upper stories. Under the graveyard connecting the church and Aedificium is the ossarium, filled with the bones of monks. The ground floor of the building contains the kitchen and refectory, a noisy region heated by ovens in the west and south towers, and by an immense fireplace in the north tower. Later, in a restless dream, Adso cannot tell whether the kitchen is 'hell...or a paradise,' whether the monk he sees there so often is the devil or a 'good devil.' The second floor of the Aedificium houses the scriptorium, described by Adso as a 'paradise on earth,' for here monks from all over the earth congregate to study the manuscripts contained in the largest library of the Christian world. The library on the third and highest story corresponds to Heaven, to the 'celestial Jerusalem' of Adso's imagination. From the outset, the library is shrouded in mystery. Although the Abbot Abo requests that William investigate the death of the monk found at the base of the Aedificium, he refuses to allow William and Adso entrance to the library which remains, the abbot goes on to explain, inaccessible to all but the librarian and the librarian's assistant. When William and Adso disregard Abo's prohibition, they discover that only one stairway leads from the scriptorium to the library, whereas three stairways lead from the kitchen and refectory to the scriptorium. Furthermore, this sole access is situated in the east tower, the only unheated tower. Thus the abbot's unbending decree coupled with the discomfort of the ascent conspire to render the top floor of the Aedificium off-limits to all but those who deserve to enter.
The floors of the Aedificium also represent mankind's nature and needs. The kitchen and refectory area symbolize man's instinctual, bestial aspect. Here animals are butchered and monks surrender to their bodies' craving for food; later at night, a few monks use this area to satisfy forbidden appetites as they seduce village girls who have come to beg for scraps. The scriptorium, on the other hand, reveals, in the monks, the industrious and communal side of man united as they are by their desire to preserve and elucidate the word of God. Finally, the library suggests how tortuous is the path to moral development and spiritual salvation, since man is continually beguiled by temptations, especially those of the intellect. Hence the plan of the library is complex, knowable only by those initiated in its mysteries. Eco emphasizes this aspect of the Aedificium's top floor by representing the library as two related images -- labyrinth and world map -- and by illustrating this didactic hybrid in the second of his maps:


Library Map

Figure 2: The library map from The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani.

The plan of Eco's labyrinthine library derives from several sources (8). It owes its peculiar shape to a large thirteenth-century maze once existing on the floor of Rheims Cathedral in France (9):

Figure 3: The Rheims Cathedral Maze (thirteenth century), illustrated on p.95 of Mazes and Labyrinths of the World by Janet Bord, E.P. Dutton and Sobel Weber Associates, 1975.

This church maze is the acknowledged model for Eco's library with its essentially square shape, its four corners or towers possessing five exterior sides or walls, its octagonal center, and the presence of a single internal wall that prevents one from completely circumambulating the labyrinth (10). Church mazes were common in medieval Italy and France (11). Another maze, from the Church of San Savino in Piacenza and dating no later than the tenth century, bore an inscription that began: "The labyrinth represents the world allegorically -- spacious for the one entering, but extremely narrow for the one returning" (12). Since Eco puts these words into the mouth of the senile and raving Alinardo, this cryptic message little prepares William and Adso for the fact that the library is a maze representing the world, or rather, one view of it.
The realization that the library is ordered like a world map is perhaps the most important and least ambiguous of William's victories in The Name of the Rose. He first notices that the library's catalogue lists each book according to a formula indicating its location in the library: hence, 'iii, IV gradus, V in prima graecorum' suggests that that particular book is 'third on the fourth shelf in the fifth case' of a corridor or room referred to as 'the first of the Greeks.' On their initial incursion into the library, William and Adso note that a Latin verse is inscribed on a scroll in every room, that a few of the inscriptions are painted red, and that every Latin verse derives from the last book of the Bible: the Book of Revelation, otherwise known as the Apocalypse. Later, William realizes that no more than twenty-four verses appear on the scrolls, though the library contains more than twice that number of rooms. Since the designers of the library could have easily found fifty-six different verses from the Book of Revelation to distinguish the library's fifty-six rooms, William surmises that the twenty-four verses indicate, only indirectly, the identification of each room. Instantly he remembers that the Latin alphabet has just twenty-four letters, the same number as the Apocalyptic verses on the scrolls. If the first letter of each Apocalyptic verse identifies the room over which the verse's scroll appears, William deduces, then every initial letter painted in red must begin a sequence denoting a corridor of rooms. On their second journey into the library, William and Adso make the startling discovery that these sequences of letters form the names, in Latin, of countries and biblical sites. Only one of these place names is allegorical: FONS ADAE, the earthly Paradise, located in the furthest east. Yet it, like the other ten names on the library map, attests to Eco's concern with the terrestrial aspect of the earth. These names are arranged 'geographically,' so that each 'country' belongs to one of the three continents known prior to the discovery of the New World -- Asia, Africa, and Europe:

NE, E, SE [Asia] 1 FONS ADAE (Birthplace of Adam)
2 IUDAEA (Judaea)
3 AEGYPTUS (Egypt) (13)
S [Africa] 4 LEONES (Africa)
SW, W, NW, N, NE [Europe] 5 YSPANIA (Spain)
6 ROMA (Rome)
7 HIBERNIA (Ireland)
8 GALLIA (France)
9 GERMANIA (Germany)
10 ANGLIA (England)
11 ACAIA (Greece)

These names bind together the rooms of the library into a coherent pattern that 'reproduces the map of the world.' But which map?
Then we turn to the so-called T-O map. Though perhaps not invented until the early fifteenth century, the expression 'T-O' proves eminently useful as an abbreviation for orbis terrarum -- Latin for 'circle of the earth' or 'world' -- and as a graphic description for one of the most popular world maps in the Middle Ages (14). The '0' of the T-O map is the ocean encircling a flat, wheel-shaped earth. The 'T' represents the intersection of the Mediterranean Sea with the Don (Tanais) and Nile (Nilus) rivers, thus dividing the world into the three known continents occupying most of the earth's surface: Asia, Europe, and Africa (15).
The simplicity and stylization of the T-O map reveals how little most of medieval Europe knew about geography, for the map's design predates the fifth century BC. Credited to the Ionian philosophers of Archaic Greece (16), the T-O map ceased to be the scientific model as early as the fifth century BC. when, one by one, its underlying assumptions began to be questioned and even ridiculed: that at the center of the universe is the earth -- flat, perfectly circular, and ringed by a circumfluent ocean from which flow the three major waterways that, in turn, form the traditional boundaries of the three continents covering most of the earth (17). Ironically, even while Aristotle argued for a spherical earth and Ptolemy produced maps that were to remain unrivaled until the Renaissance (18), the T-0 design remained popular, especially among the Romans and the Latin authors (19). Associated with the names of Sallust and Lucan (20), a map of the T-0 type also appears to have been the model for the geographical descriptions of the important Christian authorities, St. Augustine and Orosius, at the beginning of the fifth century (21). To Christian writers, the T-0 design was appealing because it avoided representing the earth as a sphere, a view that was treated cautiously ever since it had been labeled anti-biblical by the early church father, Lactantius (22). Furthermore, the T-0 design depicting the earth as a perfect circle accords with Isaiah 40:22, "It is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth." In other ways too, the T-0 pattern resembled the even more primitive conception of the earth contained in the Bible; the learned fathers had only to adapt the pagan model to the Word.
Isidore of Seville accepted that challenge (23). Bishop, saint, voluminous writer and respected polymath, Isidore produced in the early seventh century an encyclopedia known as the Etymologies or the Origins (Etymologiarum sive Originum libri XX), two books of which discuss geography (13-14). Into Book 14 of the Etymologies was inserted a map illustrating the earth's shape and topography. Although the original has perished, the few extant copies from the eighth century link Isidore with the first Christian T-0 map (24). Despite considerable variation among the maps contained in surviving manuscripts of Isidore's Etymologies, a general pattern emerges (Figure 4: T-O map, eleventh-century. Image linked]. Isidore began by assigning the three known continents to Noah's sons: Asia to Shem, Africa to Ham, and Europe to Japheth (25). Next, he made the earthly Paradise a 'province or district' planted 'in the eastern parts' of Asia (26). The Eden of Isidore's imagination is inaccessible: since the exile of Adam and Eve, Isidore says, Paradise has been ringed by an impenetrable wall of fire (27). Beyond Paradise lies the Ocean, 'flowing around the earth on all sides and encircling its boundaries' (28). His placement of Paradise at the eastern extremities of Asia but within the frame of the circumfluent ocean made Isidore the foremost authority in the Middle Ages for that topographical feature. The overwhelming importance of the biblical Paradise also accounts for the fact that east appears at the top of Isidore's map, an 'orientation' subsequently favored in ecclesiastical cartography of the Middle Ages (29).
From the eighth century to the period in which The Name of the Rose is set (and beyond), the T-0 or simple tripartite map appeared not only in numerous manuscripts illustrating Isidore's Etymologies but also in other works (30). In the spirit of Isidore, a new feature came to be added to the Christian topography of the T-O map -- Jerusalem's placement at the center of the world. This is in accordance with Ezekiel 5:5. 'Thus saith the Lord God; This is Jerusalem: I have set it in the midst of nations and countries that are round about her' (31). But though demonstrated by St. Jerome in his Commentary on Ezekiel (32) and supported by the pilgrim Arculf in his De locis sanctis of the late seventh century (33), Jerusalem's sacred position did not appear until around 1100 on a T-O map probably copied from a Byzantine original brought back from the First Crusade (34) [Figure 5: Byzantine-Oxford T-O map. Image linked]. The 'Sallust' maps follow suit. Similar in design to the T-O map but generally more detailed and less symmetrical in their threefold division of the world, the earliest surviving 'Sallust' maps show Rome at their center; in the twelfth century, however, Jerusalem begins to be substituted for Rome as the umbilicus terrae, the 'navel of the earth' (35). From this time on, Jerusalem maintains its dominant position on Christian maps even after discoveries of Asia's eastern extension rendered this world view untenable in the later Middle Ages (36).
The geographical confusion and allegorical stylization which the Christianized T-O map of Isidore inspired are nowhere more evident than in the anonymous Psalter map [Figure 6a: Psalter map. Image linked]. An illustration in a manuscript of the Book of Psalms dating to the third quarter of the thirteenth century, the Psalter map depicts a circular world, measuring less than four inches in diameter (9.5 cm), enclosed within a rectangular frame whose dimensions are 4 x 5.75 inches (10 x 14.5 cm). Despite its small size, the Psalter map contains 145 legends and is believed to have been copied from an earlier and much larger map, not unlike the Ebstorf [Figure 7: Ebstorf mappamundi, about 11.67 feet or 3.5 m in diameter. Image linked] and the Hereford maps [Figure 8: Hereford mappamundi, about 5.25 x 4.5 feet or 1.6 x 1.3 m. Image linked] -- two enormous wall maps that may have functioned as altarpieces in their respective shrines from the thirteenth century on (37). What makes the Psalter map especially intriguing is that, on the surface, it appears to have been the model for Eco's map of the library [Figure 6b: Psalter mappamundi. Image linked].
The eastern orientation of the Psalter map immediately betrays its allegorical message. At the top of the frame stands Christ, arms uplifted, elbows resting on the world, and flanked by angels. Between his elbows, a wind god releases through its mouth the waters associated in Genesis 2:10-14 with the Garden of Eden. The Garden, in turn, appears below as a circular area, inside of which are Adam and Eve separated by the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Conversely, at the bottom of the frame lurk two dragons representing Satan and his emissaries. On the reverse side of the page containing the Psalter map, Christ is shown trampling the dragons under his feet. Although the map illustrates a Psalter, the imagery is distinctly apocalyptic. Thus east corresponds not only to the earthly paradise and the rising of the sun, but also the resurrection of Christ, the Second Coming, and the everlasting life of the soul in Heaven. West, on the other hand, symbolizes death, the decay of the world, the birthplace of the Anti-Christ, and the eternal damnation of sinners in Hell (38).
The east tower of Eco's library contains, as has been seen, several rooms identified as FONS ADAE, 'the Birthplace of Adam.' In this area corresponding to the terrestrial Paradise of the mappaemundi, William and Adso discover a great number of bibles and commentaries on the Holy Scripture. One of the rooms within this corridor, however, is unnamed and contains nothing but a stone altar beneath its single window. This most easterly of all the rooms represents the Kingdom of Heaven, forever divorced from mundane concerns. The symbolism of these rooms is emphasized by the fact that they can be reached fairly easily by means of the single stairway known to ascend to the library from the scriptorium. But once the uninitiated wanders from these rooms, he finds it difficult, if not impossible, to return.
The labyrinthine maze is only one of the problems. Unaccountable sounds, like the groans or moaning of ghosts, haunt William and Adso on their first trip into the library. William soon realizes that the builders of the library cut slits into the external walls for ventilation, but angled the slits in such a way as to produce these unearthly noises. Once again the library maze resembles the Psalter map, which depicts twelve windblowers, four large and eight small, whose faces are regularly spaced around the earth's rim. Yet, while the Psalter map merely incorporates into its representation of the world the twelve winds commonly recognized throughout Antiquity and the Middle Ages (39), the designers of the library have converted this familiar decoration into an unfamiliar terror, one that grows more sinister as The Name of the Rose progresses.
Another obstacle encountered on the journey through the library is the wall separating the north tower entirely from the east tower. Though this wall has its parallel in the Rheims Cathedral maze [Figure 3], Eco has displaced his to the northeastern section of his library. In this location it corresponds with the enclosure illustrated on the Psalter map at the upper-left or northeastern part of the world. This enclosure consists of an enormous gate, said by Aethicus of Istria to have been erected by Alexander the Great near the Caspian Sea to imprison the man-eating hordes of Gog and Magog (40) [Figure 9: Ebstorf mappamundi, detail of Gog and Magog. Image linked]. Ever anxious to escape, these tribes were restrained from overrunning the east only through the agency of the equally mythical Prester John, a Christian king thought to rule over a kingdom of tremendous wealth in the Orient (41). Yet the Book of Revelation warns that Satan, at the end of one thousand years, will free the hordes of Gog and Magog to ensure the world's demise (42). So great a threat did Gog and Magog pose in the Middle Ages that they are commonly shown on the mappaemundi (43). Even the scientific Roger Bacon, one of William's models and heroes, argued that their final incursion might be foretold through study (44). In The Name of the Rose, the climactic destruction of the abbey begins in the northeastern part, where Eco has deliberately placed his Aedificium (Figure 1). But the incident that triggers this apocalypse arises in the library itself, and from another quarter entirely.


The Name of the Rose library differs in three essential ways from the T-O diagrams and their successors: in its representation of the central focal point, in the symbolism of the west, and ultimately in its very depiction of the world. To begin with, many of these mappaemundi place Jerusalem at the center of the world, just as Eco has made his church the center of his abbey. The library, however, contains no equivalent to the enclosed circle forming the 'navel' of the Psalter map, but only an octagonal and inaccessible light well. It is true that each tower has a center -- an heptagonal and windowless room that in three cases is marked 'A,' the letter beginning and/or ending the name of the corridor and country located in that direction:

East Tower: FONS ADAE

But this generalization reveals the exception. Another unidentified room exists, at the heart of the library's south tower. And this room apparently has no access.
Which leads to the second difference. In the kitchen by the oven of the west tower, Adso succumbs to 'the temptations of the noontime Devil.' The dragons in the west at the bottom of the Psalter map correspond, in other words, to the sins of the flesh and their localization in the warmest part of the Aedificium's bottom floor. But in the library the temptations that beguile the intellect and damn the soul are lurking in the south. The south tower area includes parts of three corridors or countries: all of LEONES, the last three rooms of AEGYPTUS (TUS), and the first two rooms of YSPANIA (YS). Ringing the exterior wall of the south tower is LEONES, which William quickly identifies as 'Africa' with its motley collection of books by 'infidel authors.' Here William and Adso find Latin works by pagans born in North Africa, including Martianus Capella (45), dissertations on the occult, texts by Arab authors, and works in 'unknown languages.' Contiguous with LEONES are AEGYPTUS and YSPANIA. Although nothing is said about the books contained in 'Egypt,' the sequence of rooms forming 'Spain' yields more manuscripts on the Apocalypse than any other Christian library and an enormous number of commentaries devoted to this final book of the Bible: in particular, codices of the twelve-book Commentary on the Apocalypse by the eighth-century Spanish abbot, Beatus of Liebana (46). Described elsewhere by Eco as a medieval 'best seller' both prior to and following the turn of the millennium (47), the Commentary acts as an admonition to those passing through the library, for copies of it line the shelves and tables, its pages open to the beautiful yet terrifying illustrations of the red dragon and the Whore of Babylon. But if Catholic Spain had given birth to Isidore and Beatus, it had also endured the trials of the damned. Even as Beatus was writing his commentary, Eco says, 'his country was being visited by a genuine, flesh and blood Antichrist: the Moslem invader' (48).
For hundreds of years the Moors flourished in Spain, only gradually being expelled during the eleventh through fifteenth centuries. Since the Aedificium and its library predate the Romanesque abbatial church (49), the designers of the library must have been all too aware of the persistent Arab threat in the West. Eco graphically represents this danger by room 'S' in the south tower area: the one room shared by LEONES, AEGYPTUS, and YSPANIA. Though this coincidence could be explained simply by the geographical proximity of these three countries, it was precisely that proximity that had allowed the Arabs to sweep out of their original home in Arabia to conquer Egypt and North Africa by the seventh century, then Spain early in the eighth. Room 'S,' then, symbolizes the potential extermination of the Christian world by the Arabs, whose relationship to the south involves not only their invasion of western Europe from that quarter but their decided preference for orienting their world maps with south at the top.
At the time in which Eco has set The Name of the Rose, the Arab threat to the Christian world, though no longer military, was every bit as real. Only recently freed, Spain had become a hotbed during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries for the dissemination of dangerous works and ideas inspired by the infidel Moors. No sooner has William translated LEONES as 'Africa' than he recognizes the connection between the south tower of the library and the 'monsters' that the abbot had hinted were in the library: "books by wizards, the cabalas of the Jews, the fables of pagan poets, the lies of the infidels." William also discovers why room 'S' contains not only Arabic scientific texts but several bestiaries written in Latin. To the abbot and those controlling the library, these books by the 'Africans' are filled with falsehoods and correspond to the monstrous creatures believed to exist in the unexplored parts of Africa: Blemmyae, headless tribes with faces fixed in their chests; Cynocephali, 'dog-headed' races; Sciopods or Sciapodes, with one giant 'foot' that they use to 'shade' themselves from the sun's heat [Figure 10: Hereford mappamundi, detail of Africa. Image linked]. Abo had admitted that heretical books are, like these fabulous creatures, "part of the divine plan...a pale reflection of the divine wisdom." But fearing their danger, he had felt that these books must be concealed from those who might be corrupted by their influence. Later, in the scriptorium, William and Adso overheard the scribes speaking of riddles and 'African poets.' Remembering these conversations when William translates LEONES as 'Africa,' Adso assumes that they have stumbled upon 'the African poets' and their mysterious association with riddles. Yet William recalls the words finis Africae, a designation for lost books in the library's catalogue as well as part of a coded message that he had found amidst the books of a murdered monk and that he had deciphered as beginning Secretum finis Africae, the 'secret of the end of Africa.' Suddenly, William realizes its importance. The finis Africae does not refer to any of the rooms in LEONES, but to the 'secret' heptagonal room he knows must exist at the heart of the south tower.
Of the continents known in ancient and medieval times, Africa remained the most mysterious and least explored. Greco-Roman knowledge of the dark continent had reached its height in the second century with Ptolemy's demonstration that Africa extended well below the equator. Unfortunately, Ptolemy exaggerated the evidence by proposing that Africa was part of an enormous land mass stretching across the southern hemisphere from Africa's southern extremities to southeast Asia, thereby converting the Indian Ocean into a landlocked sea (50) [Figure 11: Ptolemaic world map, twelfth-thirteenth century. Image linked]. As a result, by the fifth century Ptolemy's views on Africa and its southern extension had been discounted; this fact coupled with the virtual disappearance of his Geography in western Europe until the fifteenth century, the economic and political stagnation accompanying the fall of the Roman Empire, and the subsequent expansion of the militant Arabs insured that, before the twelfth century, medieval Europe had even less information about the African continent than their ancestors had possessed in the first century. For prior to Ptolemy, Africa was thought to be shaped like a right-angled triangle, bounded by the Nile on the east, by the Mediterranean on the north, and by the ocean running from northwestern Africa to its southeastern tip. But since the most southerly point known in Africa lay to the north of the equator, the continent was believed to be almost twice as wide from east to west as it was long, a theory that failed to account for the other two-thirds of Africa's actual size (51). To the south of Africa lay part of the circumfluent ocean, thought to lie in the equatorial zone and to be unnavigable because of its vast expanse, its treacherous waters, or the sun's unbearable heat (52). With regard to the inhabitants of southern Africa, the early Greek poets knew of people living south of Egypt and called them Aethiopians after their 'burnt faces.' Associated with Homer's 'blameless' Aethiopians (53) were mysterious and savage tribes, described in quasi-mythical terms throughout much of Antiquity and located further and further south as the Greco-Roman knowledge of Africa increased (54). The early Middle Ages not only adopted the notions of an abbreviated Africa, an uncrossable equatorial ocean, and an Aethiopia extending along the southern limits of the world (55), but also developed the savage Aethiopian tribes into the monsters fabled to exist in that oppressively hot region (56). Nor was the ignorance of medieval Europe much enlightened by the establishment of friendlier relations with the Moslems in the twelfth century, for the Moslems had an innate dread of the Atlantic Ocean, which they called the 'Sea of Darkness.' Not until late in the thirteenth century did intrepid Italians sail as far down the western coast of Africa as Cape Non (57). Although Catalan, and later Portuguese explorers worked their way down the coast until they crossed the equator in 1477 and rounded the southern tip of Africa in 1488 (58), Cape Non continued to be thought of as the southern boundary between the known world and the uninhabitable regions beyond. The tribes living below this promontory were still popularly deemed to be monstrous even as late as the sixteenth century, two hundred years after the fictitious events described in The Name of the Rose (59).
The plan of Eco's library consciously mirrors the ignorance and misconceptions reflected by medieval cartography. While the T-O maps retain Africa's triangular shape, Eco's library adopts the medieval representation of that continent as being grossly abbreviated in size. While the Carignano sea-chart of 1300-1305 designates Cape Non as Caput finis [Africae], the 'cape at the end of Africa,' (60) Eco converts this label into his Secretum finis Africae: his 'secret' room known as the finis Africae or 'end of Africa.' And while the Psalter map arrays the monsters of Ethiopia in tiny panels along the southern border or 'end of Africa,' Eco has cleverly placed the most heretical of the library's books in the heart of the south tower -- in the terra incognita located between the most southerly place known in Africa and the ocean.
But Eco, does not stop here, nor is the secret of his finis Africae exhausted by this apparent correspondence. Like so much else in The Name of the Rose, the library map is not what it seems. The T-O and 'Sallust' maps, the world maps exemplified by the Psalter illumination portray only the known world with its circumfluent ocean forever encircling its three continents. Yet another interpretation of Eco's finis Africae shatters the last resemblance between the library map and these tripartite mappaemundi. For they make no reference to an unknown, self-contained fourth continent lying to the south of Africa and separated from it by an unnavigable ocean (61). This southern terra incognita is beautifully represented by the inaccessible heptagonal room in the library's south tower. And here we turn to the second group of medieval mappaemundi: those that show the earth as a sphere and derive from the ancient Greeks.


The Greeks often wondered what lay to the south of the known world. Was there an unknown southern continent, a terra australis incognita? If so, was it inhabited? If so, by whom? During Antiquity and subsequently the Middle Ages, individual geographers and map makers dealt with these questions differently. For the Greeks and those they influenced, the concept of this terra incognita was predicated upon their belief in a spherical world. Ptolemy's theory of an unlimited extension of Africa in the southern hemisphere failed to gain support in the Middle Ages. Nevertheless, speculation on the austral continent reached medieval scholars through two distinct routes -- the zone theory and the Cratesian system -- popularized, in turn, by two fifth-century pagan writers whose texts proved to be extremely influential throughout the Middle Ages. The first is Macrobius, whose Commentary on the Dream of Scipio discusses and preserves part of Cicero's Republic, which had incorporated the system of Crates. The second is Martianus Capella, author of the allegorical compendium On the Wedding of Mercury and Philology (62).
Both inherited from the Greeks, among them Aristotle, the idea of dividing the spherical earth into five zones defined by the Arctic Circles and the Tropics (63). Only two zones were considered habitable, the 'temperate zones,' one in the northern hemisphere containing 'our' known world, and the other in the southern hemisphere. Bounded by the 'uninhabitable frigid zones' at the earth's northern and southern extremities, the temperate zones were separated from one another by a central, equatorial tract too 'parched' for human habitation (64). To suggest that a habitable zone exists to the south of the Tropic of Capricorn, however, does not require that it be inhabited. Aristotle, for example, remains mute on this point. Eratosthenes, another adherent of the zone system, appears to have been the first map maker to assert that the temperate zone in the south contains Antipodes, people who stand on the other side of the globe with their 'feet opposite' to ours (65). In this belief, Eratosthenes was followed not only by Macrobius and Capella but by another pagan authority important during the Middle Ages, the first-century Latin author Pomponius Mela (66). Mela calls the southern inhabitants Antichthones, 'those who dwell in an opposite land,' and suggests that the Antichthones remain unknown because of the heat in the intervening region.
But in terms of medieval cartography perhaps the most influential Greek theoretician was Crates of Mallos. A Homeric scholar of the mid-second century BC, Crates wished to reconcile Homer's descriptions with the scientific knowledge of his own day. In so doing, he produced a ten-foot globe depicting the world as divided by two thin belts of water that intersect at right angles to form four separate but roughly uniform land masses (67) [Figure 12: Reconstruction of the world according to Crates. Image linked]. One of these contains the known world: Asia, Europe, and Africa as far south as the Aethiopians. Crates believed that the other three land masses were also inhabited. Some mortals dwell in that quadrant we now know as North America; below them live the Antipodes, in what is now South America; and most important, south of the known world are the Aethiopian Antoikoi, an unknown race of Aethiopians 'living opposite' their African counterparts. On hindsight, Crates' unconventional representation of the world has proven strangely prophetic of the location and habitation of the 'New World.' Furthermore, at least three of Crates' notions passed into the Middle Ages. One was that the world is composed almost entirely of land. This mistaken and retrogressive belief, often referred to as the 'terrestrial' or 'continental' theory, remained the orthodox view until the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries (68). The second, that a branch of the circumfluent ocean occupies the uninhabitable torrid zone surrounding the equator, was accepted by Macrobius and most medieval scholars
[Figure 13: Macrobian world map, twelfth century. Image linked]. Depending upon the geographer or map maker, this equatorial ocean might be called the Atlantic Ocean, the Mediterranean Sea, or even the Red Sea (69). And the third notion suggested that unknown peoples dwell across the earth from the known world.
Crates' third notion proved the most controversial, both early in the Middle Ages and for centuries afterwards. In the early fourth century, Lactantius had denied the sphericity of the earth, thereby eliminating the 'ridiculous and false' belief of the pagans in the Antipodes (70). One hundred years later, St. Augustine took a less dogmatic approach, refusing to discount the concept that the earth might be spherical or that another land mass might exist at the Antipodes; but he concluded that any races living at the Antipodes could not be descendants of Adam (71). In the mid-sixth century, Cosmas Indicopleustes may have been inspired by the Cratesian system propounded by Macrobius (72) and Capella to portray his own 'land beyond the Ocean,' but stipulated that the land is pre-historic and no longer inhabited (73) [Figure 14: World map from Cosmas Indicopleustes' Christian Topography, sixth century. Image linked].
In the seventh century, Isidore produced his Etymologies, illustrated by generations of map makers who persisted in making tripartite maps. Which brings us to the pivotal eighth century, to the Venerable Bede who subscribed to the earth's sphericity but not to the human habitation of the Antipodes (74); to Virgil of Salzburg, bishop and author of a Cosmography under the pseudonym Aethicus of Istria, who was nearly excommunicated when accused of believing that other men exist outside of the known world; and to Beatus of Liebana (75), one of the most compelling and enigmatic authorities in The Name of the Rose.


That Beatus' Commentary on the Apocalypse provides a key to the resolution of the mystery is indicated by several signs. Like Beatus, the monks inhabiting Eco's abbey five-and-a-half centuries later are obsessed with the Apocalypse. As the mystery deepens, so does the monks' conviction that the deaths in the Abbey follow the sequence of the seven trumpets as revealed in the final book of the Bible -- that the six-day destruction of the world and the Last Judgment of the seventh day are at hand. The library silently reinforces this anticipation and dread. Adso, while gazing at the illustrations in one of Beatus' commentaries, experiences an apocalyptic vision similar to that described by John, the narrator of the Book of Revelation. The apocalyptic verses on scrolls in the library's rooms indicate to William not only the 'terraqueous' layout of the library map but also the final solution to the coded message concerning the Secretum finis Africae. And the apocalyptic imagery becomes unmistakable as William and Adso begin their journey across this final boundary:

Two hours after compline, at the end of the sixth day, in the heart of the night that was giving birth to the seventh day, we entered the finis Africae.

In view of the apocalyptic aura saturating The Name of the Rose (76), it is not surprising that the map of Eco's library bears a chilling resemblance to the world map most representative of the third family of medieval mappaemundi: the map illustrating Beatus' Commentary on the Apocalypse.
Though the eighth-century original is lost, some fifteen copies of Beatus' map survive in manuscripts of his commentary dating from the tenth to the thirteenth centuries (77). Eco, in fact, has illustrated another one of his works with the exquisite Mozarabic Madrid Beatus of about 1047, an illumination Eco imagined that Adso might have encountered in YSPANIA [Figure 15: The Madrid Beatus, c. 1047. Image linked] (78). Immediately apparent is its similarity to the T-O and 'Sallust' maps, and especially to the mappaemundi represented by the Psalter map. All depict a circumfluent ocean; the world divided by the intersection of the three waterways into the known continents with their various countries and cities; an inaccessible Paradise located in the east but within the encircling ocean; and a circular or oval world with east at the top. Three features, however, prove that Eco had Beatus' map in mind when designing his library. Jerusalem, portrayed by the Church on the Madrid Beatus, does not occupy the exact center of the world (79). Furthermore, the symbolism associated with the east has no apparent contrast in the west. Instead, our gaze is irresistibly drawn to the south, where the displaced but appropriately rubricated Red Sea divides the known world from a fourth continent.
Lest Beatus' piety come under suspicion, several points need to be considered. First, as was the case with Isidore, Beatus may not have been the one who created or inserted the world map into his prologue of Book 2 (80). Second, despite the depiction of this southern continent, it is impossible to prove that Beatus believed in a spherical earth (81). He may have derived this concept, in fact, from Isidore, whose discussions of the earth's sphericity reveal his equation of 'sphere' and 'circle' (82), a confusion concealed by the tripartite T-O design of the map illustrating most copies of his encyclopedia. Nevertheless, Isidore referred to an unknown southern land in Etymologies 14.5-17:

Besides the three parts of the world, moreover, there is a fourth part further away in the south and unknown to us because of the sun's heat. In its borders, Antipodes are fabulously recorded to dwell (83).

Isidore's words are repeated verbatim on the St. Sever Beatus map [Figure 16: St. Sever Beatus, detail of the Antipodes. Image linked], an eleventh-century copy often deemed the most representative of Beatus' world maps (84) [Figure 17: St. Sever Beatus. Image linked]. They are also echoed on the Madrid Beatus in the legend accompanying the southern continent: DESERTA TERRA VICINA SOLI AB ARDORE INCOGNITA NOBIS -- 'deserted land near the sun and unknown to us because of the heat.' Finally, Beatus may have modeled his map on an early but rare type of world map contained in a few manuscripts of Isidore's Etymologies 14, and best illustrated by the Vatican map (about 775) and the St. Gall map (about 700) (85). All depict a fourth part of the world located in the south but not at the Antipodes. The Beatus map, in other words, is the most obvious and popular representative of the third family of maps that so fascinates Eco: that ambiguous compromise between two 'distinct' categories of medieval maps, typified here by the T-O as opposed to the Cratesian-style maps.
Beatus would have had a special reason, however, for incorporating a world map into his Commentary on the Apocalypse: to show the expansion of the Church throughout the world. The Osma Beatus map of about 1086 exemplifies this purpose [Figure 18: Osma Beatus. Image linked]
(86). Though the Beatus world map changed little over centuries of copying, except to become less geographically accurate, only the Osma Beatus map retains two features believed to have been on the original (87). One is the set of twelve apostles charged with spreading the Gospel to all mankind (88). The Osma Beatus map shows their pictures beside the area where each of them taught. Significantly, none of their pictures appear in the southern continent. Instead the Osma map depicts a second vignette of the original world map: the 'illusory' Sciopod, renowned for its 'extraordinary speed' and desperately seeking shade under its overgrown foot from the sun's rays. Above the Sciopod is a Latin legend announcing:

Hec pars ab ardore solis incognita nobis et inhabitabilis. inanes Scopodes fer(un)tur habitare singulis cruribus et celeritate mirabili, quos inde Sciopodas greci vocant, eo quod per estum in terra resupini iacentes pedum suorum magnitudinem adumbrantur. (emphasis mine)

This legend actually combines two passages from Isidore's Etymologies: one describing the Sciopod (11.3.23) (89); the other, the fourth part of the world (14.5.17). Yet Isidore, who believed in human monstrosities like the Sciopods (90) and his so-called Antipodes (11.3.24), placed them in Africa, not in the fourth part of the world as is the case on the Osma Beatus map. Furthermore, while both Isidore and the Osma Beatus map refer to a fourth land as 'unknown to us,' only the Osma map adds that this land is also 'uninhabitable' (that is, by mankind). And so the message of the Osma Beatus map is clear. Although acknowledging the existence of a fourth continent to the south of the known world, it emphasizes that the Word has not penetrated its boundaries, since this terra incognita does not contain the race of Adam, but only inhuman monsters. Thus, the fabulous creatures often associated with Africa's southernmost extremities in Ethiopia have been transferred to the other side of the uncrossable equatorial sea.
The design of Eco's library, then, originates before the turn of the millennium, a fact that helps account for the extreme age of the Aedificium. Nevertheless, like Beatus' mappaemundi, the library map presents an ecclesiastical picture of the world that remained popular even in the early fourteenth century. By the time of the events described in The Name of the Rose, furthermore, several factors were at work to render Beatus' southern continent of primary concern to geographers, map makers, and theologians. From at least the ninth century on, the Church grew reconciled to the notion of a spherical earth. At the same time, the influence of Macrobius' and Capella's conception of the world became so great that maps representing the world as a globe were copied and adapted in numbers rivaling those of the more conservative mappaemundi that represented only the known world (91). Nowhere is the influence of Macrobius and Capella more apparent than in the work of Lambert of St. Omer, a canon who finished his encyclopedic Liber Floridus or Anthology with its accompanying maps around 1120. One of these maps pictures the southern continent occupying half of the earth [Figure 19: 'Sfera geometrica' in Lambert's Liber Floridus. Image linked] (92). On this Beatus-type map gone berserk and in a legend resembling that found on the St. Sever Beatus map, Lambert informs us that this is the southern temperate zone, a region unknown to the sons of Adam. Separating the known world from this plaga incognita is the equatorial ocean, which Lambert calls the Mediterranean: an unnavigable expanse, invisible to us because of the sun's heat. The legend goes on to say that philosophers allege that Antipodes live in this southern region. But Lambert places his Antipodes on one of the two small islands rimming the earth (93), an obvious sign of the influence of the Cratesian system and of Lambert's acceptance of an antipodal land inhabited by human beings.
The translation and dissemination of Arabic texts in western Europe around the time of Lambert also played a part in the growing prominence of the southern continent. By the eleventh century, Arab geographers not only knew that the equatorial zone was habitable and inhabited, but believed that a land mass existed at the Antipodes of the southern hemisphere (94). By the end of the twelfth century, most of Aristotle's works and their Arabic commentaries as well as other 'lost' Greek texts like Ptolemy's Almagest or Greatest Work had been translated from Arabic into Latin, resulting in the scientific revolution and Aristotelianism of the thirteenth century. Among the churchmen most influenced by this non-Christian learning were Roger Bacon and Albertus Magnus. In his Opus Majus or Greater Work, Bacon demonstrates his conviction that the torrid or equatorial zone could be crossed and that an inhabited region in the southern hemisphere below the Tropic of Capricorn was not inconsistent with the patristic teachings of Basil and Ambrose (95). Bacon's German contemporary, Albertus Magnus or Albert the Great, argued for the habitability of the equatorial and the southern temperate zones. But he went even further, suggesting that the only reason peoples of the northern and southern hemispheres had not yet communicated with one another was because of the difficulty in crossing the southern deserts and mountains of magnetic rock; yet these too, he believed, were crossable in places (96). In this same period, copies of maps that would have been oriented to the east or to the north, as in the case of the Macrobius-type mappaemundi suddenly have south at the top in accordance with the favored Arab orientation (97). Perhaps the most disorienting of these is the Paris Beatus map of the late twelfth century, which pictures Paradise at the top but in the extreme south [Figure 20: Paris III Beatus. Image linked] (98).
This thirteenth-century Beatus map is by no means an isolated example. As Marco Polo's travels to the Far East became known, so were his reports that Prester John had been slain by Genghis Khan, that the Christian kingdom in the Orient was much diminished, and that the Old Man of the Mountain -- who drugged his 'pious' assassins -- claimed to live in the eastern Paradise (99). No wonder that the location of Prester John's realm is often transferred from Asia to the world's southern extremities in Abyssinia or Ethiopia (100). One of the reasons why Henry the Navigator sent his Portuguese adventurers to try to circumnavigate Africa in the fifteenth century was to find the Christian king of Ethiopia, for Henry hoped that its Prester John would ally himself with the Christian world in countering the Moslem threat (101). Equally intriguing is Dante's description of the southern hemisphere. In a conservative vein, he calls the southern hemisphere 'a land without inhabitants' (102). But he then goes on to say that Lucifer, exiled from heaven, alighted in the southern hemisphere. The land originally there escaped his demonic influence by forming the Mountain of Purgatory, where only the dead now dwell. On top of this mountain, however, Dante places his terrestrial Paradise (103). Following the Paris Beatus map of 1250 and Dante's description of a southern Eden are at least three maps dating from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries -- all of which picture the early Paradise as located in Africa's central or southern regions (104). Then too, an anonymous Spanish monk writing around the time in which Eco has set The Name of the Rose claims to have sailed to a River of Gold originating somewhere south of the Tropic of Capricorn near the Garden of Eden (105).
Finally, Roger Bacon says that the idea of Paradise located in this region derives from Aristotle: is the opinion of some that paradise is located there [beyond the tropic of Capricorn], since it is the noblest place in this world according to Aristotle and Averroës in the second book of the Heavens and the World (106).

The finis Africae, therefore, has any number of topographical meanings in The Name of the Rose. It is the land of the Ethiopians, located at the southern extremity of an abbreviated Africa. It is terra australis incognita, the 'unknown southern continent,' considered to be habitable, but generally not by human beings. It is the place where Lucifer first landed. Yet it is also the promised home of the righteous following the Last Judgment. Separating this fourth land mass from the known world is the equatorial ocean of orthodox belief, thought to be uncrossable because of the extreme heat, its great expanse, its invisibility to the naked eye, or all three. Eco represents these difficulties metaphorically by borrowing the symbol of mirror-as-door from Jorge Luis Borges, author of 'The Library of Babel' and other short stories, and a man who so influenced The Name of the Rose that Eco named the most learned and venerable monk in his abbey, Jorge of Burgos (107). On their first trip into the library, William and Adso had discovered the existence of a mirror which distorts and renders monstrous the image it reflects; Adso, unexpectedly faced with his own image reflected in the poor light, had shouted 'a devil!' On their second trip, they managed to identify the room containing the mirror as room 'S,' the very room that forms the intersection of LEONES, AEGYPTUS, and YSPANIA. But the ingenious reflecting device is also, like the equatorial sea of medieval geography and cartography, an invisible door concealing an apparently inaccessible room.
On their final trip into the library, William and Adso step behind this door to find a man, the only man who has long since known that the finis Africae exists and can be entered by not one but two secret passages. Though he has just murdered a sixth monk, this man boasts that he is the faithful agent of God and part of the divine plan to punish the intellectual pride corrupting the abbey's Christian values. Waiting insidiously inside the Secretum flnis Africae, a room that is both 'secret' and 'secluded for the purpose of reading the Bible,' he intends to let William and Adso die there. Tortured by his fear of a world turned upside-down, this man clutches to his bosom a volume he believes will destroy the world he knows; not surprisingly, this volume contains among the foolish works of the infidels a single copy of a work by Aristotle 'The Philosopher.' Moreover, his explanation for his role in the mysterious deaths plaguing the abbey smacks of the same justification that had led Lactantius, one thousand years before, to condemn the notions of a spherical earth and of an antipodal race of human beings in the south:

Every word of the Philosopher, by whom now even saints and prophets swear, has overturned the image of the world. But he [Aristotle] had not succeeded in overturning the image of God. If this book were to become...had become an object for open interpretation, we would have crossed the last boundary.

He then describes to William his greatest fear: that the monstrous races of terra incognita and their blasphemous ways will become the center of the world:

...every trace of center [will] be lost. The people of God [will] be transformed into an assembly of monsters belched forth from the abysses of the terra incognita.

Ironically, as he begins to succumb to the death he helped inflict upon others, he takes on the appearance of the very monsters he fears. Gazing upon this disfigured visage, William recognizes at last that evil does not spring 'from a far land...[but] can be born from piety itself, from excessive love of God or of the truth.' And in his anger and frustration, William uncharacteristically calls his enemy 'the Devil' and 'the Antichrist.'
In the climax of The Name of the Rose, the finis Africae becomes 'an accursed room' whose evil spreads throughout the entire library and abbey, the very world William's enemy had tried so hard to preserve. The mystery ends with an apocalyptic fire that destroys Eco's all-too-mortal library: that 'celestial Jerusalem,' as Adso once called it, that 'underground world on the border between Terra Incognita and Hades' (108).

Online Figures
Except for five figures (1-3, 6a, 6b, and 15), each of the figures in the text is linked to a "slide" and "monograph" on Jim Siebold’s site, "Cartographic Images," an educational service hosted by Henry Davis Consulting:

His identifications and slide numbers indicate the images to which my figures are linked.
Those interested in discovering other maps on the web can access Siebold’s site through the WWW Virtual Library: History, "History/Map History/History of Cartography: THE gateway to the Subject," compiled by Tony Campbell, Map Librarian, The British Library, London, February 2001:

Figure 1. The layout of the abbey; a map inside the front and back covers of The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani, Sonzogno, Etas SpA (1980); English translation, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc. and Martin Secker and Warburg Limited (1983). Courtesy of Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani.

Figure 2. The library map, on page 321 of The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani, Sonzogno, Etas SpA (1980); English translation, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc. and Martin Secker and Warburg Limited (1983). Courtesy of Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani.

Figure 3. The Rheims Cathedral Maze (thirteenth century), illustrated on p.95 of Mazes and Labyrinths of the World by Janet Bord, E.P. Dutton and Sobel Weber Associates, 1975; Bord's diagram is a sketch of an illustration in the Bibliothéque Nationale, Parigi, MS français 9152: folio 77. Courtesy of E.P. Dutton and Sobel Weber Associates.

Figure 4. T-O map, from an 11th century MS. edition of Beatus’ Commentary; slide 205Y.

Figure 5. Byzantine-Oxford T-O map; slide 205BB.

Figures 6a and 6b. Psalter mappamundi -- British Library (Add. MS. 28681, fol. 9r); slide 223.

Figure 7. Ebstorf mappamundi (original destroyed during World War II); slide 224.

Figure 8. Hereford mappamundi -- Hereford Cathedral, Hereford, England; slide 226.

Figure 9. Ebstorf mappamundi, detail of Gog and Magog; slide 224B.

Figure 10. Hereford mappamundi, detail of Africa; slide 226D.

Figure 11. Ptolemaic World Map, 12-13th century; slide 119.

Figure 12. Reconstruction of Crates’ Globe (mid-1st century B.C.); slide 113.

Figure 13. Macrobian World map from a French MS., 12th century; slide 201.

Figure 14. Cosmas Indicopleustes’ world picture in the Christian Topography, 6th century; slide 202.

Figure 15. The Madrid Beatus: Biblioteca Nacional, Vitr.14.2, folios 63v-64; illustrated in Umberto Eco, "Waiting for the millennium," FMR (Franco Maria Ricci) 2:64-65.

Figure 16. St. Sever world map after Beatus, detail of the Antipodes; slide 207D1.

Figure 17. St. Sever world map after Beatus; slide 207D.

Figure 18. Beatus world map, Osma copy (from Miller); slide 207H.

Figure 19. Zonal world map from the Liber Floridus of Lambert St. Omer (copy from Wolfenbüttel, Germany); slide 217A.

Figure 20. Beatus world map, Paris III, copy; slide 207I.

Footnotes from the original article in Studies in Iconography.

1. Maps and excerpts from The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani, Sonzogno, Etas SpA (1980); English translation, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc. and Martin Secker and Warburg Limited (1983). The maps inside the front and back covers and on page 321 of The Name of the Rose are reproduced here as Figures 1 and 2 courtesy of Gruppo Editoriale Fabbri-Bompiani. All subsequent references to Eco's The Name of the Rose, translated by William Weaver, will be abbreviated NOTR.

2. This paper expands upon several ideas contained in a guide I co-authored with Jane G. White and Robert J. White: The Key to "The Name of the Rose," New Jersey, 1987; revised edition, The University of Michigan Press, 1999. See especially the sources of Eco's labyrinthine library, 151-53. The abbreviation KNOTR followed by a page number indicates material incorporated from The Key to "The Name of the Rose."

3. M. Destombes, editor, Mappemondes, AD 1200-1500, in International Geographical Union's Monumenta Cartographica vetustioris aevi (Amsterdam 1964), Imago Mundi, suppl. 4, 21-23.

4. T. Simar, 'La Géographie de I'Afrique centrale dans I'antiquité et au moyen a âge,' Revue Congolaise, 3, 1912-13) 159-69; M.C. Andrews, 'The Study and Classification of Medieval Mappae Mundi,' Archaeology (or Miscellaneous Tracts Relating to Antiquity), 75, 1924-25, 68-74; R. Uhden, 'Zur Herkunft und Systematik der Mittelalterlichen Weltkarten,' Geographische Zeitschrift, 37, 1931, 321-40. For a summary and alternate classification into four groups, see Destombes; ([above note 3] 8-15), and J. B. Harley and D. Woodward, editors, The History of Cartography, volume 1: Cartography in Prehistoric, Ancient, and Medieval Europe and the Mediterranean, 1987, 294-99, an excellent work released after this paper was written.

5. Isaiah 40:22, Matthew 24:31 and Psalm 107:3. All Biblical quotes are taken from the King James version.

6. See below, especially section V.

7. See Umberto Eco, 'Waiting for the millennium,' FMR (Franco Maria Ricci), 2, 63-92, a condensed version of his Beato di Liébana: Miniature del Beato de Fernando I y Sancha, Parma, 1973.

8. This paragraph summarizes KNOTR 27,29, 122, 153, and 181.

9. Figure 3 derived from Mazes and Labyrinths of the World by Janet Bord, 1975. See figure 147 on page 95 of Bord's book, reproduced here courtesy of E.P. Dutton and Sobel Weber Associates. Bord's diagram is a sketch of an illustration in the Bibliothéque Nationale, Parigi, MS français 9152,: folio 77.

10. Depicted on the cover of Eco's Il nome della rosa, Milan, 1980, and in his Postscript to 'The Name of the Rose,' William Weaver, translator, San Diego, 1984, 55.

11. See Bord (above note 9), 88-97.

12. KNOTR 122; for the full Latin legend, see W. H. Matthews (Mazes and Labyrinths, London, 1922, 57), who quotes from P.M. Campi's 'Ecclesiastical History of Piacenza' (1651).

13. For translation of these names, see KNOTR, 149-51. Medieval sources usually adopted the belief, attested in several classical sources, that the Nile River (not the Red Sea) formed the boundary between Asia and Africa (Libya). Egypt, therefore, was regarded as part of Asia: Pliny the Elder, Natural History, 3.1-3, 5.1.1, 5.9.47ff.; Solinus, Collectanea Rerum Memorabilium, 23.15; Martianus Capella, De Nuptiis Mercurii et Philologiae, 6.626, 674-76; Orosius, Historiae adversum Paganos, 1.2.27-35; Isidore, Etymologiae, 14.3.27-28, 14.5.3. For later citations, see J. K. Wright, The Geographical Lore of the Time of the Crusades, in American Geographical Society Research Series, 15, New York, 1925; rpt. 1965, 298 notes 206-07.

14. See Gregorio Dati's (1362-1436) La Sfera 3.1 1: 'Un T dentro ad un 0 mostra il disegno/ Come in tre parti fu diviso il mondo.'

15. Generally, medieval maps picture the world covered predominantly by land in accordance with the apocryphal II Esdras, 6.42, 47, 50, 52. See Wright (above note 13), 19, 188, 372 note 70, 43 8 notes 31-32.

16. Anaximander of Miletus (about 610-540 BC) and Hecataeus of Miletus (flourished 520-500 BC), whose combined efforts were reproduced on a world map engraved upon a bronze tablet carried to Sparta by the Milesian tyrant Aristagoras in 500 BC, according to Herodotus (flourished first half of the fifth century BC) History, 5.49, 51. No pagan T-O maps have survived. (All dates prior to AD 300 derive from the Oxford Classical Dictionary,2 N.G.L. Hammond and H. H. Scullard, editors, Oxford, 1970; all those after AD 300 derive from the New Catholic Encyclopedia [NCE], 17 volumes. New York, 1967-79.)

17. See Herodotus' complaints at History, 2.9-16; 3.115; 4.8, 35, 45. For detailed examinations of Greco-Roman maps and geography, see E. H. Bunbury, History of Ancient Geography, 2 volumes, London, 1879; reprinted New York, 1959; L.A. Brown, The Story of Maps, Boston, 1949; reprinted New York, 1977; J.O. Thomson, History of Ancient Geography, Cambridge, 1948, and Everyman's Classical Atlas, London, 1961; A.T. Sharaf, A Short History of Geographical Study, London, 1967; N.J.W. Thrower, Maps and Man, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1972; O.A.W. Dilke, Greek and Roman Maps, in Aspects of Greek and Roman Life, H.H. Scullard, editor, Ithaca, NY, 1985.

18. Aristotle (384-322 BC) in his De Caelo, 293b34-298a20 and Meteorologica, 362b31-363a20; Ptolemy (flourished AD 127-48) in his Geographia.

19. See C.R. Beazley, The Dawn of Modern Geography: A History of Exploration and Geographical Science, 300-1420, 3 volumes, London, 1897-1906, 1:276, 2:576-77, 627-31; and L. Bagrow and R.A. Skelton, History of Cartography, Cambridge, MA, 1964, 37-38, 41-43.

20. Sallust (prob. 86-35 BC) wrote the Bellum Jugurthum. Its seventeenth chapter contained a world map which may have been inserted by Sallust or another prior to AD 700; see Beazley (above note 19), 2:579; Destombes (above note 3), 65-66. A world map was also incorporated into the ninth chapter of the Pharsalia of Lucan (AD 39-65).

21. St. Augustine (AD 354- 430) in his De Civitate Dei, 16.8, and Orosius (about 390-after AD 418) in his Historiae adversum Paganos, 1.2.

22. Lactantius (about AD 240-about 320) tutored the eldest son of Constantine. For other churchmen who agreed with Lactantius' views as expressed in his Divinae Institutiones, 3.24, see Beazley (above note 19), 1:275 note 1, 328-30, and Wright (above note 13), 53, 383 note 45.

23. About AD 560-636.

24. No one knows whether Isidore relied on an earlier map, created one of his own, or inspired a later map produced in accordance with his geographical description: Destombes (above note 3), 55. That the world map associated with Lucan's Pharsalia might have influenced Isidore's map, see Destombes (above note 3), 74 and plate G=VIa. E. Brehaut (An Encyclopaedist of the Dark Ages: Isidore of Seville, in Columbia University Studies in History, Economics, and Public Law, 48. 1, New York, 1912, 46-47) suggests that Isidore's library would have included the works of Sallust, Lucan, Augustine, and Orosius.

25. Isidore, 7.6.17, 9.2.2-37, 14.3.10; compare Genesis 9:18-10:32.

26. Isidore, 14.3.1-2: 'provincias multas et orientis partibus'; compare Genesis 2:8. Latin text from Isidori Hispalensis Episcopi Etymologiarum sive originum libri XX, W.M. Lindsay, editor, 2 volumes, Oxford, 1911.

27. Isidore, 14.3.3; compare Genesis 3:24.

28. Isidore, 14.2.1. The entire line describes the orbis [terrarum], 'so-called from its roundness, which is like a wheel'': 'Orbis a rotunditate circuli dictus, quia sicut rota est...undique enim Oceanus circumfluens eius in circulo ambit fines.'

29. For bibliography, see Beazley (above note 19), 1:332-34; Wright (above note 13), 261-62.

30. See K. Miller, Mappaemundi: Die ältesten Weltkarten, 6 volumes, Stuttgart, 1895-98, 3:116-22; Beazley, (above note 19), 2:576-78, 628-31; Destombes (above note 3), 16, 21, 29-35, 117-48.

31. Compare Ezekiel 38:12 and Psalm 74:12; also, Isidore, 14.3.21: 'quasi umbilicus regionis totius' (that is, of Asia).

32. St. Jerome or Hieronymus (about 340/42-420) in his Commentaria in Ezechielem, 2:9, in J.P. Migne, Patrologiae cursus completus, series Latina (Pat. lat.), 25, Paris, 1845, col. 52.

33. 'On the Holy Places,''1.11, recorded by the abbot Adamnan (about 625-704); see KNOTR, 127-28.

34. Miller (above note 30), 3:118-20; Beazley (above note 19), 2:578; Wright (above note 13), 121-22, 259, 460 note 14. That map is housed at St. John's College Library, Oxford, MS 17, folio 6.

35. For 'Sallust' maps, see Miller (above note 30), 3:110-15; Beazley (above note 19), 2:578-79, 631-32; Destombes (above note 3), 37, 65-66, plate E=Va and Vb.

36. See Beazley (above note 19), 1:339, for maps dating from the thirteenth through fifteenth centuries; G.H.T. Kimble, Geography in the Middle Ages, London, 1938; reprinted New York, 1968, 186 and note 5; Brown (above note 17), 97 and note 33.

37. Before its destruction in World War II, the Ebstorf map was housed in the German monastery at Ebstorf. The Hereford map is still preserved at Hereford Cathedral in England. Another, the mappamundi of Henry of Mainx (about 1150), has been associated with the Psalter, Ebstorf, and Hereford maps. For discussion and illustration, see Beazley (above note 19), 2:563-69, 614-18, and 3:528-29; Miller (above note 30), 2: Pl. 13, 3:28-29, 37-43 and tables 2-3, and volumes 4-5; W. Rosien, Die Ebstorfer Weltkarte, Hanover, 1952; Destombes (above note 3), 10, 168-70, 194-202 and plates DD=XXIV, CC=XXV; Bagrow (above note 19), 42-50, Pls. 18 and 24; W. George, Animals and Maps, preface by H. Wallis, Berkeley, 1969, 10-11, 28-35; Thrower (above note 17), 32-34; T. Campbell, Early Maps, New York, 1981, 10- 11.

38. The east-west symbolism is unmistakable in the Ebstorf map, which was superimposed over the figure of a crucified Christ, whose head and feet marked east and west respectively, while his arms indicated north and south.

See the sermon on the Book of Revelation (NOTR, 400-04; compare Revelation 7:2-3) and Abo's assertion that 'the universal government' begins in the east but travels towards the west as the world deteriorates (NOTR, 36-37). That the world had reached its 'sunset' or sixth age prior to its destruction in the seventh was a view shared by many (compare Isidore, 5.38-39), including the Franciscan Spirituals, Pierre Olieu and Ubertino of Casale, who believed that St. Francis (about 1181/2-1226) had inaugurated the sixth age (KNOTR, 180-81). See Wright (above note 13), 233-35; Apocalyptic Spirituality, B. McGinn, trans., New York, 1979; and, for the connection between church mazes and geographical symbolism, Bord (above note 9), 95.

39. For bibliography, see Wright (above note 13), 173-75; Brown (above note 17), 123-26; Dilke (above note 17), 216 note 49. Compare the twelve winds on the Ebstorf and Hereford maps.

40. Aethicus of Istria has been identified as Virgil of Salzburg (about 710-784: below, end of section iv), referred to in the NOTR as Aethicus Peronymus, author of a Cosmographia (NOTR, 184; compare KNOTR, 1.27-28). See Aethici Istrici Cosmographia Vergilio Salisburgensi Rectius Adscripta, intro. by T.A.M. Bishop, in Umbrae Codicum Occidentalium, 10, Amsterdam, 1966; NCE (above note 16), 1.631-32, under the heading 'Antipodes.'

41. For further elaboration and the medieval sources for Gog and Magog as well as Prester John, see C.B. Firestone, The Coasts of Illusion: A Study of Travel Tales, New York, 1924, 235-39; Wright (above note 13), 114, 283-88; Kimble (above note 36), 185-86.

42. Revelation 20:7-9; compare Ezekiel 38:2, 39:1-2, Genesis 10:2.

43. They are the imundas gentes (unclean races) on the Ebstorf map, which shows them devouring human flesh; see Bagrow (above note 19), plate XXII.

44. In the 'Greater Work' of Roger Bacon (prior to 1220-about 1292). See The Opus Majus of Roger Bacon, B.H. Bridges, editor, 3 volumes, Oxford, 1897-1900, 1:302-304, 2:234-35; and The Opus Majus of Roger Bacon, R.B. Burke, translator, 2 volumes, Philadelphia, 1928, 1:321-23, 2:644.

45. Flourished AD 410-39. Martianus Capella wrote De Nuptiis Mercurii et Philologiae; see below section iv.

46. For more on Beatus and his Commentaria in Apocalypsin, see below, section v.

47. Eco's, 'Waiting for the millennium' (above note 7), 68.

48. Eco, 68.

49. That Eco's abbatial church is Romanesque, see NOTR, 40. Compare Eco's Postscript (above note 10), ill. xii, and KNOTR, 50, for the resemblance between the tympana featuring the Last Judgment over the NOTR abbey church and the Romanesque French Church of St. Pierre in Moissac (about 1115-36).

50. Ptolemy's Geographia, 1.9-10, 7.3-5. The world map of Ptolemy is illustrated in Bunbury (above note 17), 2:578; The Geography of Claudius Ptolemy, E.L. Stevenson, editor and trans., New York: 1932, 167; D. Divine, The Opening of the World: The Great Age of Maritime Exploration, New York, 1973, 26-27; Campbell (above note 37), 12-13.

51. Bunbury (above note 17), 1:327-28, summarizing how Strabo's view of the world (64/63 BC-about AD 21: Geography, 2.2.2., 17.3.1.) recalls that of Eratosthenes (about 275-194 BC: Geographica). In the first century AD, Pomponius Mela (flourished AD 37-41: Chorographia, 1.4.20, 3.9.85-107) and Pliny the Elder (AD 23/24-79: Natural History, 6.35.196-197; compare 5.1.1-8.46, 2.75.18, 2.77.187) also accepted Eratosthenes' Hellenistic model.

52. For example, Mela, 3.9-90; Periplus of Scylax, 112 (fourth century BC; see Bunbury [above note 171, 1:392); Ephorus (about 405-330 BC) in Pliny, 6.36.199; 2.68.172.

53. Iliad, 1 .423.

54. The historical reality of these tribes is discussed by F. M. Snowden in his Blacks in Antiquity: Ethiopians in the Greco-Roman Experience, Cambridge, MA, 1970,171-75.

55. For a thorough listing of the medieval sources, see Simar (above note 4), 157-58; Wright (above note 13), 74, 258-59, 306.

56. Though these monsters are described in the fifth century BC by Herodotus (History, 4.191) and Aristophanes (Birds, 1553) as well as by earlier Greek authors, the Aethiopian creatures found their way into medieval sources through Mela, 1.4.23, 1.8-48; Pliny the Elder, 5.8.44-46, 5.128, 7.2.21-32, 8.72, 8.216, 37.124, 37.167; Solinus (probably soon after AD 200), 27.58-60, 30.15-16, 31.1-6. See Augustine, 16.8; Isidore, 11.3.12-23; the anonymous Physiologus, a Christian allegory 'describing nature' and her marvels; Wright (above note 13), 302-04, J.B. Friedman, The Monstrous Races in Medieval Art and Thought, Cambridge, MA, 1981.

57. According to the Columbia Lippincott Gazetteer of the World, 29015'; N.L.E. Seltzer, editor, New York, 1962, 1356. See the map of the 'World as Known about AD 1260-1360' in Beazley (above note 19), vol. 3.

58. Detailed by Beazley (above note 19), 3:410-60; Brown (above note 17), 107-11.

59. Kimble (above note 36), 104; J.N. Wilford, The Mapmakers, New York, 1981, 35.

60. Beazley (above note 19), 3:519 Kimble (above note 36), 114, 108 note 4. See Martianus Capella, 6.674: 'post hos [ceteros monstruosae nouitatis] finis est Africae,' in Martiani Capellae: Satyricon or De nuptiis philologiae et mercurii, A. Dick, editor, Leipzig, 1925; reprinted Stuttgart, 1969.

61. As Eco suggests in 'Waiting for the millennium' (above note 7), 69: 'Terra Incognita (or Australis)...reflect[s] the general belief of European explorers and cartographers, from Ptolemy to Captain Cook, that a single continent occupied the entire southern hemisphere below the Tropic of Capricorn.' For a general survey, see A. Rainaud, Le continent austral: hypothèses et découvertes, Paris, 1893, and see Friedman (above note 56), 221 note 32, for recent bibliography.

62. Macrobius (flourished about early fifth century) in his Commentarius in Somnium Scipionis; for Martianus Capella, see above (beginning of section iii), and notes 45, 60.

63. Aristotle Mete. 2.5-6=362b-365a, though Parmenides is believed to have devised the system (compare Strabo 2.2.1-3). Compare Macro. Somn. Scip., 2.5.2-3, 2.5.10-17, 2.6., 2.7-7-21, 2.8.1-8, and Martianus Capella 6.602. For further discussion, see Macrobius: Commentary on the Dream of Scipio, W.H. Stahl, translator, New York, 1952, 201-02 and notes; Dilke (above note 17), 25-9, 174.

64. Macrobius maps from the ninth through fifteenth centuries usually contained the legends: Temperata habitabilis (or nostra); Temperata habitabilis (or anteorum, antipodum, or nostra incognita); Frigida septentrionalis (or) australis inhabitabilis; and Perusta inhabitabilis. For illustrations, see Kimble (above note 36), frontispiece; Stahl (above note 63), 214; Destombes (above note 3), 85, plate 0=XIIIc.

65. A fragment retained from Eratosthenes' lost Hermes; see P. Vergili Maronis Opera, J. Conington, editor, London, 1881, 1:185, under the heading Georgics, 1.233-39; Dilke (above note 17), 66 and note 46.

66. Macrobius 2.5.1-5, 12, .21, .23-36; Martianus Capella 6.602, 604-608; Mela 1.14, in De chorographia libri tres, C. Frick, editor, Leipzig, 1880; reprinted Stuttgart, 1968.

67. Figure 6 derived from James Oliver Thomson's History of Ancient Geography (above note 17), 203; figure 27 on page 203 of Thomson's work is reproduced here courtesy of Cambridge University Press. Though followed by Macrobius, 2.5-1, 32-33, and Martianus Capella, 6.604-615, Crates' representation of the Homeric east-west division of the Aethiopians (Odyssey, 1.22-24) failed to gain much support in antiquity (compare Strabo, 12.24ff. and Pliny the Elder, 5.8-43). For discussions of Crates, see Bunbury (above note 17), 1.73-78; Dilke (above note 17), 36-37; R.H. Ramsay, No Longer on the Map: Discovering Places that Never Were, New York, 1972, 24-5, whose map incorporates the terminology of Martianus Capella.

68. For example, Roger Bacon rejected Ptolemy's hypothesis that only one sixth of the earth was composed of land, and argued instead that land comprises six-sevenths of the earth; Opus Majus, Bridges' edition (above note 44), 1:291, and Burke's edition (above note 44), 1:31 1. See also, Isidore, 13.16.1, 21.24, and 14.3.1-5.17; Kimble (above note 36), 147, 162-63.

69. Macrobius, 2.5-3, 2.9.2; for other citations, see Wright (above note 13), 158-59.

70. Divinae Institutiones, 3.24.2: 'ridicula...falsa' (above note 22), in Divinae institutiones, S. Brand, editor, in Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, 19, Vienna, 1890-97.

71. Civ. Dei, 16.8-9 and De Genesi ad Litteram, 2.9.20-22, in Migne, Pat. lat., 34, Paris, 1845, cols. 270-71.

72. Dilke (above note 17), 171.

73. Cosmas 'Who Sailed to India' was a merchant-turned monk and author of Christian Topography (about AD 547). His world map depicts a rectangular earth surrounded by a circumfluent but bizarrely angular ocean, beyond which is located the land 'where men used to live before the Flood': 'Ge peran tou Okeanou entha pro tou katakoun katokoun hoi anthropoi' See The Christian Topography of Cosmas, an Egyptian Monk, J.W. McCrindle, trans. and editor, in Publications of the Hakluyt Society, 98, London, 1897; reprinted 1965, especially 389-90 and plate 6; and Cosmas Indicopleustès: Topographie Chrétienne, W. Wolska-Conus, editor, 2 volumes, Paris, 1968-70, 1:545.

74. About AD 673-735. See Bede's De Natura Rerum, chapter 46, and De temporum ratione, chapters 32, 34, in Migne, Pat. lat., 90, Paris, 1862, cols. 264, 443-44, 456.

75. For Aethicus, see above (end of section ii) and note 40; for Beatus, above (beginning of section iii) and note 46.

76, KNOTR, 179-84.

77. Destombes (above note 3), 40-42, 83-84.

78.'Waiting for the millennium' (above note 7), 64-65, 69. See also, K. Klein, Der altere Beatus-Kodex, Vitr. 14-1 der Biblioteca Nacional zu Madrid: Studien zur Beatus, Hildesheim, 1976.

In NOTR 314, Eco refers to its illuminator, Facundus. For discussion and illustrations of the other Beatus maps, see Miller (above note 30), 1:15, 25, 37, and 2: Tables 2-9; Beazley (above note 19), 1:23-70, 2:550-59, 591-605; Wright (above note 13), 122-24.

79. Later copies tend to place Jerusalem closer to the center; see Beazley (above note 19), 2:556.

80. Destomes (above note 3), 79.

81. Destomes ([above note 3], 16-17), for instance, suggests that the Beatus map implies a spherical earth, but Kimble ([above note 36], 37) denies that such a connection is necessary.

82. Especially in Isidore's De Natura Rerum, 'De Quinque Circulis.' See Brehaut (above note 24), 50-54, 26466; Wright (above note 13), 383-84 note 48; Kimble (above note 36), 36-37 and note 2.

83. Compare Orosius 1.2, 47; St. Augustine, 16.9-18. Isidore discounts the idea of an antipodal people with their 'feet opposite' to ours, 9.2. 1 33.

84. The St. Sever or Paris I Beatus (Bibliothèque Nationale, MS Lat. 8878, folios 45v and 46r) is illustrated in Miller (above note 30), 1:58; Beazley (above note 19), 2:550; Wright (above note 13), 69; D. Matthew, Atlas of Medieval Europe, New York, 1983, inside front cover. See also the Turin Beatus of the twelfth century.

85. The Vatican map is housed in the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (MS Vat. lat. 6018, folios 64v-65r), and depicts the fourth part of the world as a thin, oblong, 'unknown island' (insola incognita) located just south of Ethiopia. The St. Gall map is housed in the St. Gallen Stiftsbibliothek (Cat. Scherer 1875, Cod. 237, p. I), and depicts the southern continent occupying one-third of the world. For discussion and illustrations, see Miller (above note 30), 6:58, figure 27; R. Uhden, 'Die Weltkarte des Isidorus von Sevilla,' Mnemosyne 3 ser. 3, 1936, 6, 22-25, 28; G. Menéndez Pidal, Mozarabes y asturianos en la cultura de la Edad Media, in Boletín de la Real Academia de la Historia, Madrid, 1954; Destombes (above note 3), 17, 55, 80, and plate U=XIX.

86. Figure 8 derived from Konrad Miller's Mappaemundi: Die ältesten Weltkarten (above note 30), 1:35; photographed from this rare book courtesy of the Map Division of the New York Public Library -- Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations. For further discussion of the Osma Beatus, see Miller (above note 30), 1:12, 24, 34-36, and 2: plate. 3b; Beazley (above note 19), 2:591-92; Eco in Beato (above note 7), 83; Friedman (above note 56), 221.

87. Beazley (above note 19), 2:550-53.

88. See Beatus, prologue to Book 2 (2.3.1), in Beati in Apocalipsin libri duodecim, H.A. Sanders, editor, in Papers and Monographs of the American Academy in Rome, 7, Rome, 1930: compare Beatus 2.3.17-18. The Oña Beatus of the late twelfth century (Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milan, MS folio sup. 150) also shows the twelve apostles but not the Sciopod; see the illustration in L. Vasquez de Parga's 'Un mapa desconocido de la serie de los 'Beatos',' in Actas del Simposio, para el Estudio de los Codices del 'Commentario al Apocalypsis' de Beato de Liébana, 3 volumes, Madrid, 1978 80,1:273-76.

89. Differing slightly from the legend of the Osma map, Isidore 11.3.23 reads: 'Sciopodum gens fertur in Aethiopia...'Skiopodas' Graeci... per aestum...magnitudine....'

90. Compare St. Augustine, 16.8, and above (end of section iv).

91. Destombes (above note 3), 12-13.

92. Destombes ([above note 3] 113 and plate L=X) classifies this example of the Sfera geometrica as the fourth of ten map types found in manuscripts of Lambert's work; see also the Type III Globus Terrae form. For further discussion see Miller (above note 30), 3:43-53; Beazley (above note 19) 2:570-74; Wright (above note 13) 124, 158, 403-404, 415-16.

93. Legend I
Plaga australis temperat sed filiis Adae incognita...Mare namque mediterraneum...humanus oculus non videt, quem solis ardore semper illustratum, qui...accessus repellit hominum, nec ulla ratione ad hanc zonam permittet transitum. Hanc inhabitare philosophi antipodes autumant, quos a nobis diversitate temporum diversos asserunt...

Legend II
Hic Antipodes nostri habitant, sed noctem diversam diesque contrarios perferunt...

94. Kimble (above note 36), 55-56.

95. Bridges (above note 44), 1:305-308, and Burke (above note 44), 1:324-27.

96. De Natura Locorum, 1 .7, in Alberti Magni: Opera Omnia, P. Aschendorff Hossfeld, editor, Westphalia, 1980, 5,2:14. Albert's dates are about 1200-1280.

97. For example, an early twelfth-century climate map of Peter Alphonsi, illustrated in Miller (above note 30), 3:127; and a thirteenth-century zonal map of William of Conches, illustrated in Destombes (above note 3), plate Nc=XII.

98. Housed in the Bibliothèque Nationale of Paris (MS NAL 1366) and illustrated in Bagrow (above note 19), plate 15. See also Destombes (above note 3), 42.

99. Marco Polo (about 1254-1324) is Eco's 'Venetian traveler' (NOTR, 315; compare 175); see Book 1.33-35 and 50, in The Book of Ser Marco Polo,3 H. Yule and H. Cordier, translator and editor, New York, 1926, 1:139-48 and 244.

100. As in the fourteenth century Mirabilia of Jordanus of Severac and the Cronica of John Marignolli. See Kimble (above note 36), 133-34 and note 1; and, for illustrations, W.W. Jarvis, The World in Maps, New York, 1937.

101. See Gomes Eannes de Azurara's Chronicle of the Discovery and Conquest of Guinea, C. R. Beazley and E. Prestage, translators, in Publications of the Hakluyt Society, 95, London, 1896, 28.

102. Dante (1265-1321) in his Inferno, 26. 1 1 7: 'mondo sanza gente'

103. Inferno, 34. 121-26.

104. These include the Laurentian World Map (about 1351), the Map of Albertin de Virga (1415), and the Este World Map (about 1450); se Kimble (above note 36), 184, 241-44, and plates IX-XI.

105. Book of the Knowledge of All the Kingdoms, Lands, and Lordships that are in the World, C. Markham, translator, in Publications of the Hakluyt Society, second series, 29, London, 1912, 33.

106. Quoted from Burke (above note 44), 1:326; see also Bridges (above note 44), 1:307, and Aristotle Cael, 285bl5-16 and 23-25, where it is stated that the north pole is to kato (the one below), while the south pole is to ano (the one above). See Aristotle's On the Heavens, W.K.C. Guthrie, translator, Cambridge, MA, 1939.

107. Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories and Other Writings, D.A. Yates and J.E. Irby, editors, New York, 1962/1964, especially 51-58. See KNOTR, 28, 181-82.

108. This paper is a revised version of one presented at Hunter College: CUNY in November 1984 and March 1988, at the Spring 1987 meeting of the Classical Association of the Atlantic States, and at the Spring 1988 meeting of the Classical Association of the Middle West and South. In addition to my colleagues at Hunter, several others have provided encouragement and assistance in providing invaluable research materials: Leonard E. Boyle, Prefect of the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana; Peter Barber, Senior Research Assistant of the British Library; J.A.A.M. Biemans, Deputy keeper of Western manuscripts at the University Library, Leiden; Barbara McGrath-Loch of the Eaton Public Library; Alice Hudson and Nancy Kandoian in the Map Division of the New York Public Library–Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations; as well as the staffs of the Clymer Library and the Rare Books Division of the Bryn Mawr College Library. My special thanks go to those without whose insights and support this paper might never have been completed: Virginia, Harold, and Bruce Haft, Nancy Moore, Jane and Robert White, and, most importantly, Jordan Zinovich. Finally, to Umberto Eco, for making scholarship so much fun, gratias tibi ago.'

Adele Haft is one of the authors of The Key to "The Name of the Rose." The Modern Word would like to thank Professor haft for making this paper available to Porta Ludovica.

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