The Infinite Library
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Follow Alberto Gimaldi, code-cracker and bibliophile, as he unravels the mystery of an infinite library and discovers the treachery of the librarian Castellemare. What is the hidden plot of the library, and how will this impossible place set into motion a catastrophic narrative by the artful textual manipulation of unwitting agents in the real world? What is the buried and secret connection between all text and all life? A novel of dark mystery, infinity, and a compelling story for all those who love books and book-related enigmas. Codes, ciphers, and the sinister await those who would set foot inside the Infinite Library. This is the first book of the trilogy.
encountered mention of this Codex Infinitum,” I ventured. “As have I. At last tally, there were fourteen variations.” “Fourteen? Have you encountered one of them?” “No, this is by mention in other manuscripts dating between 1355 and 1662. Most of them reference it with a helpful annotation, but all of them are widely different in what this book contains. Sadly, the references are scant, even in their synopsis, so I could not tell you what the book––or books––is about. It may have turned out
there was always the haunting possibility of chance in any concatenation of codes. It was the accident of this merger that horrified him, the uncertainty of what would be produced in the end. And why did he act so passively, surrendering what made him an individual to the whims of a confusing and hasty explanation on the necessity of a synthesis? On whose authority? A bizarre and ambiguous sort of man who seemed to have taken the reins on behalf of all involved. Why did Dr Aymer not protest? Why
narrative that extended the human catalogue of cruelties. I was not at home with my small collection of assumptions, and perhaps Setzer was right that at times I made a craft of my own carelessness. I could not seem to pull my focus in tight enough, or marshal my more keen thoughts to figure the whole mess out––and it surely was a disastrous mess. Not only did I have to contend with the mystery of the synthesis, Castellemare, and the whole nut, but the Ars text was the sort of book that, over
associated with the natural course of aging, the things the bravado of youth had planned yet circumstantial reality had revised downward, or the fact that I was such-and-such an age and unmarried, sans children, or even in the plateau of some gainful career. No, these things were little more to me than externally imposed anxieties that never truly rang sense with me. The arbitrariness of numbers, the faded grey of once-urgent reasons to reach certain unqualified benchmarks, all of it more mud
the fact that there are two Gimaldis! And, in at least one implied mention, you are actually Gimaldi, which is another hilarious little hoot!” This gave him some bizarre pleasure. “And,” he continued. “Gimaldi––the other one, the one you don't know except through this book I am lending you––is as equally confused as you are. He will likely not take this seriously.” “Why?” “I'd suggest you––and the Gimaldi reading this––keep a pen handy and underline the names and dates in this book to refer