Upon first glimpsing the abbey, Adso realizes he is in the presence of one of the most exceptional and beautiful monasteries ever built. Both in the novel’s opening and throughout the book, Adso renders the architecture of the abbey, its structure, layout, and aesthetics, in great detail. He justifies these lengthy descriptions by saying, “architecture, among all the other disciplines, is the one that most boldly tries to reproduce in its rhythm the order of the universe” (22). He sees in these structures built by man an expression of God’s greatness, “and praised be our Creator, who has decreed all things, in their number, weight, and measure” (22).

Thus, architecture in the novel is rich with symbolism, but it is also laden with contradictions. The scriptorium is suffused with light, symbolizing the light of truth and the exercise of human reason for divine ends. However, despite its majesty, this room is also rife with conflict, jealousy, and hatred. Jorge of Burgos, the novel’s scourge, is “the library’s memory and the soul of the scriptorium” (148), but if this is true, then it is a dark and twisted soul.

At the end of the book, the abbey lies in ruins: for all its strength and majesty, it could not survive the darkness and sin that resided within it.