As luck would have it, in those very days, the Saint Victoire canons had invited to their abbey one such man, still young but of great reputation: Solomon of Gerona.
Naturally Solomon was not staying at Saint Victoire: the canons had found him a room, dark and fetid, in one of the shabbiest streets of Paris. He was, indeed, a young man, even though his face seemed haggard from meditation and study. He expressed himself in good Latin, but in an almost incomprehensible fashion, because he had a peculiar mouth: in the whole left side he had all his teeth, upper and lower, from the central incisor, but no teeth on the right side.
Though it was morning, the darkness of the room obliged him to read with a burning lamp, and on the arrival of his visitors, he put his hands on a scroll he had before him as if to prevent others from peering at it—a futile precaution, because the scroll was written in Hebrew characters.
The rabbi tried to apologize because, he said, that was a book that Christians rightly execrated, the ill-famed Toledot Jeschu, in which it was said that Jesus was the son of a courtesan and a mercenary, a certain Pantera. But the Saint Victoire canons themselves had asked him to translate a few pages, because they wanted to understand the extent of the Jews’ perfidy. He said that he would undertake the task willingly because he also considered the book too severe, inasmuch as Jesus was surely a virtuous man, even if he had had the weakness to consider himself, wrongly, the Messiah, but perhaps he had been deceived by the Prince of Darkness, and even the Gospels admitted that the Prince had come to tempt him.
He was questioned about the form of the Temple according to Ezekiel, and he smiled: “The most alert commentators on the sacred text have not succeeded in establishing the exact structure of the Temple. Even the great rabbi Solomon ben Isaac admitted that, if you follow the letter of the text, there is no understanding where the northern external chambers are, where they begin to the west, and how far they stretch to the east, and so on. You Christians do not understand that the sacred text is born from a Voice.
The Lord, hakadosh baruch hu, that the Holy One, may his name always be blessed, when he speaks to his prophets, allows them to hear sounds, but does not show figures, as you people do, with your illuminated pages. The voice surely provokes images in the heart of the prophet, but these images are not immobile; they liquefy, change shape according to the melody of that voice, and if you want to reduce to images the voice of the Lord, blessed always be his name, you freeze that voice, as if it were fresh water turning to ice that no longer quenches thirst, but numbs the limbs in the chill of death.
“Canon Richard, to understand the spiritual meaning of each part of the Temple, would like to reconstruct it, as a master mason would do, and he will never succeed. Visions are like dreams, where things are transformed one into another, not like the images of your church, where things remain always the same.”
Then Rabbi Solomon asked why his visitors wanted to know what the Temple was like, and they told him of their search for the kingdom of Prester John. The rabbi showed great interest. “Perhaps you do not know,”
he said, “that our texts also tell us of a mysterious kingdom in the Far East, where the scattered ten tribes of Israel still live.”
“I have heard these tribes spoken of,” Baudolino said, “but I know very little of them.”
“It is all written. After the death of King Solomon, the twelve tribes into which Israel was then divided fell to fighting. Only two, that of Judah and that of Benjamin, remained loyal to the house of David, and ten whole tribes went north, where they were defeated and enslaved by the Assyrians. Of them nothing more was heard. Esdras says that they went towards a land never inhabited by man, in a region called Arsareth, and other prophets have announced that one day they would be found and would make a triumphal return to Jerusalem.
Now, one of our brothers, Eldad of the tribe of Dan, more than a hundred years ago, arrived at Qayrawan, in Africa, where a community of the Chosen People exists, saying that he came from the kingdom of the ten lost tribes, a land blessed by heaven, where life is peaceful, never troubled by any crime, where truly the streams flow with milk and honey. This land has remained separated from every other country because it is defended by the river Sambatyon, which is as wide as the shot of the mightiest bow, but it is without water, and only sand and stones flow there furiously, making a noise so horrible that it can be heard even at the distance of a day’s march, and that inanimate matter flows there so rapidly that anyone wishing to cross the river would be swept away by it.
That stony course stops only at the beginning of the Sabbath, and only on the Sabbath can it be crossed, but no son of Israel could violate the Sabbath day of rest.”
“But Christians could?” asked Abdul.
“No, because on the Sabbath a hedge of flames makes the banks of the river inaccessible.”
“Then how did that Eldad reach Africa?” the Poet asked.
“This I do not know, but who am I to dispute the decrees of the Lord, the Holy One be he ever blessed? Men of little faith, Eldad may have been borne by an angel. The problem for our rabbis, who immediately began arguing about that account, from Babylon to Spain, was rather something else: if the ten lost tribes had lived by the divine law, their laws should have been the same as Israel’s, whereas according to Eldad’s story they were different.”
“But if the kingdom Eldad tells of was the realm of Prester John,” Baudolino said, “then its laws would truly be different from yours, but similar to ours, even better!”
“This is what divides us from you gentiles,” Rabbi Solomon said. “You have the freedom to practice your law, and you have corrupted it, so you seek a place where it is still observed. We have kept our law intact, but we haven’t the freedom to follow it. In any case, you should know that it would also be my desire to find that kingdom, because it could be that our ten lost tribes and the gentiles live there in peace and harmony, each free to follow his own law, and the very existence of that prodigious kingdom would be an example to all the children of the Almighty, may his Holy Name be always blessed. And further, I must tell you I would like to find that kingdom for another reason. According to what Eldad said, the Holy Language is still spoken there, the original language that the Almighty, blessed always be his name, had given to Adam, and which was lost with the construction of the tower of Babel.”
“What folly,” Abdul said. “My mother always told me that the language of Adam was reconstructed on her island, and it is the Gaelic language, composed of nine parts of speech, the same number as the nine materials from which the tower of Babel was built: clay and water, wool and blood, wood and mortar, pitch, linen, and bitumen. It was the seventy-two sages of the school of Phenius, who constructed the Gaelic language, using fragments of all the seventy two tongues born after the confusion of tongues, and for this reason Gaelic contains what is best in every language, and since the Adamitic language has the same form as the created world, so each noun in it expresses the essence of the very thing it denotes.”
Rabbi Solomon smiled indulgently. “Many nations believe that theirs is the language of Adam, forgetting that Adam could speak only the language of the Torah, not of those books that tell of false and lying gods. The seventy-two languages born after the great confusion are ignorant of fundamental letters: for example, the gentiles do not know the letter Het and the Arabs are unaware of Peh, and hence such languages resemble the grunting of swine, the croaking of frogs, or the cry of the crane, because they belong to peoples who have abandoned the true way of life.
The original Torah, at the moment of the creation, was before the Almighty, always may his name be blessed, written like black fire upon white fire, not in order of the written Torah as we read it today, and which was manifested only after Adam’s sin. For this reason every night I spend hours and hours spelling out, with great concentration, the letters of the written Torah, to confuse them, to make them spin like the wheel of a mill, and thus cause to reappear the original order of the eternal Torah, which preexisted creation and had been given to the angels by the Almighty, blessed be his name always.
If I knew that a distant kingdom exists where the original order is preserved, as well as the language that Adam spoke with his creator before
