The Da Vinci Code

I read this some weeks ago and have been waiting for all the ramblings and rumblings to settle into place and allow me to write a coherent review. Let us see if I can be as unbiased and unprejudiced in writing of it as I was before I read the book. For I insist, I approached it with a very open mind, having heard so much negativity about it that I determined to give it the benefit of the doubt. After all, we all know it's bad, false, untrue, inaccurate, and full of lies about Christianity, but I disdained to read any of the rebuttals because - come on! It's a novel! It's supposed to be made up! That is how I began to read the book.

The very first word that came to mind as I began to read was pretentious. It's an overblown account of the author's cleverness and knowledge, and he takes care to shovel as much of this information into every possible paragraph, as if he is acutely aware of just how much work this book was to research and write and wouldn't miss out on a single opportunity to impress the reader with the depth of his insight. For instance, one of the early chapters has the main character walking across the lawn, thinking deep thoughts about history and whatnot. He mentions a couple of these facts to the stolid French policeman, and then the narrative continues something like: 'He thought of mentioning [blah blah blah], or that [blah blah blah], but decided that the policeman probably wouldn't appreciate it.' But of course we the reader are expected to appreciate, enjoy, and even recognise this tidbit for the important part it is to play in the unfolding drama! After all, policemen are well-renowned for being stupid clods, while your average paperback novel reader is well-informed, up-to-date, and cultured, so it's good of the author to scatter these juicy bits of largess to the populace.

There's a lot of information packed into this book. But it's all crippled by our inability to distinguish between fact and fiction. There have been many books written discrediting some of the more vicious attacks on Christianity, so I won't get into all that, but we know that many of the claims he makes are simply flat-out false, many of which he parades around as 'facts.' (Some of his history of the early church councils, the description of how the 'genuine' and 'mystical' gospels were weeded out, his exegesis of certain words, etc.) This makes a lot of the incidentals really hard to swallow. For instance, he mention this glass pyramid on the lawn of the Louvre, commissioned by some pope-or-other, containing the ominous number of 666 panels of glass. Is there really such a pyramid on the lawn of the Louvre? Probably. Was it really commissioned by so-and-so? Does it really have 666 panels of glass? I have no idea.

Another annoying thing is how the author continually strokes the ego of the reader by tossing out pathetically easy clues for the reader to uncover, in an attempt to make the reader feel like a genius by outsmarting the main characters, who stupidly walk into the most obvious traps and ambushes that I could see coming a mile away. The two main characters are a world-renowned symbologist (if there is such a word) and a top-notch cryptanalyst. Yet they keep stumbling over and missing the most obvious clues.

For instance, early on we see the cryptic message 'O draconian Devil!' Now, I may have a bit of an edge because I am, after all, reading a book called The Da Vinci Code, but I spotted right away that that was an anagram of Leonardo da Vinci. But these two geniuses fumble around for pages before finally cracking that code. Later on, we come across a mysterious bit of obscure writing. Is it Sanskrit? Ancient Hebrew? No, these two bright-eyed ones are familiar with all the major languages, ancient and modern, and know right away it is none of these. But it takes them pages and pages to make the blinding discovery that - lo and behold! - it's backward writing! Just hold it up to a mirror and it becomes legible!

Also very annoying is the very patronising attitude he takes toward Christians. Aside from all the blatant historical falsehoods, he manages to work in quite a few sideswipes at the modern church, pausing to have the main character note with irony how few people who worship the symbol of the Cross probably really know the origin of the word, that it is synonymous with torture, and that it provides us with the word 'excruciating.' EXCUSE ME!!! Of COURSE the Cross is as symbol of torture, suffering, and shame! We all know that!! We even have a hymn about the old rugged Cross, 'the emblem of suffering and shame.' It was common knowledge even in the Bible that 'cursed is anyone who hangs on a tree.' The beauty of the crucifixion is that Jesus transformed that symbol of shame, hopelessness, and despair into victory over sin and death! Yes, it was an old Roman method of torture. (And put this in your pipe and smoke it, Dan Brown: It was invented by the Persians, not the Romans!) And it was so very painful that they coined a word for it. Lots of people know that, lots of people don't. Being or not being a brilliant linguist who knows all the origins of words has nothing to do with one's ability to revere a symbol that represents the cornerstone of our faith.

Also extremely annoying is his attempt to tie everything together by weaving a mystical tapestry of symbols, cabals, and significance through everything. I was insulted by his confident assertion that the Eiffel Tower was designed to resemble a sexual organ. He scatters sexual references everywhere (and there was one particularly disturbing scene).

So, all in all, it was a badly written and quite forgettable page-turner. The action moved so fast that it was pretty easy to keep engaged, if you even cared about the characters, which I didn't very much. It was pretty much nonstop action.

And that's all I have to say about that.