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The strangest book in the world? That’s
easy: it’s the mind-bending CODEX SERAPHINIANUS by Luigi Serafini.
Quite simply, the CODEX is an astonishing piece of work whose
conviction and imaginative fecundity are without precedent, being a
guidebook to an alien planet that resembles our own in many bizarre ways. The only thing is, the whole thing is written in a completely
made-up language--pages and pages of it, along with complex mathematical
diagrams--accompanied by illustrations that often seem equally
incomprehensible. Yet
the language and artwork have a way of complementing one another that’s
downright ingenious. Even at
its most baffling, the book possesses an inscrutable dream-logic that holds
one’s attention. In the end,
one can take CODEX as a serious (if whimsical and somewhat grotesque)
science fictionish attempt at depicting an extraterrestrial landscape, or as
an elaborate surrealist put-on. I
personally believe it’s a little of both.
The very definition of a cult book, CODEX SERAPHINIANUS began life as
a two-volume work published in Italy by Franco Maria Ricci in 1981. Its creator Luigi Serafini is an Italian architect who wrote
and illustrated this surreal epic during the late seventies (and in 1984
published another book called PULCINELLOPEDIA
PICCOLA, copies of which are VERY
scarce). The book, which has
since been compressed into a single volume, quickly amassed a limited but
enthusiastic following. I
myself only recently (a few weeks ago) learned of its existence, but
immediately joined the ranks of CODEX buffs.
I said this book is without precedent, but it dimly recalls Jorge
Luis Borges’ immortal 1940 tale “Tlon, Uqbar, Orbus Tertius”, which
explores the bizarre philosophies and beliefs of people living on an
invented world. More minor
similarities can be found in the Harlan Ellison edited MEDEA: HARLAN’S
WORLD (1985), in which several top sci fi writers analyze the particulars of
an alien society, and the 1973 French animated film FANTASTIC PLANET (LA
PLANETE SAUVAGE), whose hallucinogenic Roland Topor-designed images will
resonate with CODEX fans. There’s
also THE VOYNICH MANUSCRIPT, an apparently medieval text written in a
language nobody has yet been able to decipher, that, like CODEX, seems to be
a sort of scientific guidebook. The
difference between the two is that unless you’re a medieval scholar THE
VOYNICH MS, based on what I’ve seen of it, isn’t terribly interesting,
whereas CODEX SERAPHINIANUS very much is.
If nothing else, Luigi Serafini’s colorful, eerily beautiful images
are a constant wonder to behold, vaguely echoing Hieronymus Bosh and M.C.
Escher, and perpetually challenging the spectator to decipher them.
Many
commentators claim to have discovered a way to translate Serafini’s
language and numerology system (see www.math.bas.bg/~iad/serafin.html
), but I believe that takes away one of the book’s primary pleasures.
In CODEX SERAPHINIANUS the cognitive process is forced into play in a
manner that’s virtually unique, providing one with hours of fascination.
If you’re willing to grant it your full attention, I guarantee
CODEX will suck you in.
I’m not going to attempt a conventional review because, frankly, I
wouldn’t know where to begin--and anyway, CODEX SERAPHINIANUS has already
been written about at length on several web pages.
Of those I recommend www.io.com/~iareth/codindx.html
where I found out about the CODEX for the first time, www.believermag.com/issues/200705/?read=article_taylor
which contains an English translation of Italo Calvino’s introduction to
the original edition, and www.flickr.com/photos/cottoncandyhammer/sets/72157594263968563/
which features a gallery of thumbnail photos from CODEX; you’ll need to
peruse a printed copy to get the full effect, but these thumbnails will
definitely whet your appetite.
CODEX SERAPHINANIUS begins with a prologue (available only in the
2006 Rizzoli edition--see below),
followed by eleven self-contained sections, each exploring an aspect of the
strange world under review: plant and animal life, the languages spoken by
its human(oid) inhabitants, the clothing they wear, their vehicles, living
quarters, grooming and eating preferences, etc.
Despite
the guidebook format, certain portions appear to tell a (symbolic?) story,
such as the sequence of illustrations depicting a lovemaking couple who
metamorphose into an alligator, or the roller skate wearing man who’s seen
on one page writing with a quill pen he has in place of a right hand, and
impaled by a giant pencil on the next.
Much of the book seems comprehensible enough, yet Serafini often adds
one or more seemingly inconsequential details that subtly throw things off.
In one more-or-less straightforward illustration a reverential crowd
flanks a red carpet, along which struts a tiny creature with two legs topped
by what looks like a seashell--but the strangest part is that among the
crowd is a dead man standing upright in an open coffin!
Also, a picture that occurs near the end depicts a condominium that
stretches into the clouds...and alongside it an indistinct person falling to
his/her death!
Other puzzlements: a pair of eyeglasses with a maze-like contraption
in front of them that would appear to seriously obstruct their wearer’s
vision; a rainbow-making machine seen zooming across the sky, alongside
which are pictures of discarded rainbows twisted into spirals, tied in
knots, etc.; a gallery of eye diagrams, one of which shows a cracked eyeball
with music notes emanating from it; a headless, suspender-wearing torso that
bursts open to disgorge a ravenous leopard.
Equally perplexing are the many symbols and motifs of our world that
turn up in this one, often in wildly unexpected permutations.
Arrows, streetlights and fried eggs(!) are constants, as are bones,
masks and flags--but I’ll leave it to you to discover, and ponder, these
things on your own
Obviously any attempt at fully understanding this nutty universe is
doomed to failure. This is
enumerated in the book’s most remarked-upon image, of a crumbling Rosetta
Stone utilized by a professorial dude translating some unknown language for
us...into the nonsensical dialect of the rest of the book!
As for obtaining a copy of the CODEX for yourself, I’ve got good
news and bad news. The good
news is that, as of July 2007, the book is available in a large-format
coffee table edition courtesy of the Italian publisher Rizzoli, who’ve
included a supplementary booklet of reviews and interviews (in Italian but
for a brief piece by American writer Douglas Hofstadter).
It’s available from the online bookseller www.ibs.it
for around 75 Euros (approximately $100 US, plus another $30 or so in
shipping costs), a relatively economical sum considering secondhand copies
usually go for upwards of $400.
Which brings us to the bad news: this edition of CODEX SERAPHINIANUS
probably won’t be available much longer.
The book has over the years been periodically reprinted by various
European publishers, but never for very long, leaving interested parties at
the mercy of greedy used booksellers. As
for an American edition, there’s only been one, from Abbeville Press back
in 1983; it’s now long out of print, with no further printings in sight.
Nonetheless, I can assure you it will be well worth your while
tracking down CODEX SERAPHINIANUS, unquestionably the strangest book in the
world. --6/02/07
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