Baudolino

I’ll admit: *Baudolino* is not an easy listen. At nearly 21 hours, it’s a marathon of medieval intrigue, metaphysical debates, and Eco’s signature obsession with semiotics—all delivered through the unreliable mouth of a man who admits, *‘I’ve always told lies, but this time I want to tell the truth.’* Tommaso Ragno’s narration is the saving grace. His voice has a gravelly, conspiratorial warmth that makes even the most abstract passages feel like secrets shared over wine. When Baudolino spins tales of the mythical Kingdom of Prester John, Ragno’s tone shifts to something almost hypnotic, as if he’s casting a spell on both the characters *and* the listener. The production quality is flawless, with no distracting edits or volume inconsistencies, which is crucial for a book this dense. That said, this isn’t a flawless experience. Eco’s digressions—while brilliant—can test patience. A two-hour detour into the politics of Byzantine iconography or the etymology of a curse word might thrill academics, but casual listeners may find their minds wandering. And Ragno, though superb, occasionally rushes through the Italian and Latin phrases, assuming a familiarity that not all listeners will have. (A PDF companion with translations would’ve been a godsend.) Yet these are quibbles. *Baudolino* is a rare audiobook that rewards replaying chapters, not just for the plot but for the sheer joy of Eco’s prose and Ragno’s performance. If you love books that blur the line between history and tall tale—where the act of storytelling is the real adventure—this is a masterclass. Just clear your schedule first.