The Prague Cemetery ... is unique insofar as it takes the problem of the post-Name of the Rose books further, appending a morally repugnant aspect to Eco’s problems of prolixity and undeveloped characterization. Not only is the book stuffed with undigested historical, theological, and philosophical material that impedes any suspense, its protagonist is uninflectedly despicable. Moreover, this character is not just central to the plot, he is the voice of the novel; there is no voice, no character of any sort, to challenge him.
I liked Foucalt's Pendulum, and I even liked Baudolino. This doesn't sound good at all, and I trust Paula's judgment.