A few months ago, I clicked on a Twitter link that took me to an excerpt of The Da Vinci Code. Someone had copyedited the first chapter. Chortle, chortle. Brandy?
It’s not that the The Da Vinci Code is a masterpiece, but I’ve always found complaints about the book bizarre. There’s the historical inaccuracy criticism: that Dan Brown, inventor of crass fictions. These arguments never seemed particularly weighty considering that Dan Brown is a fiction writer.
There’s a movie at the cinemas called Becoming Jane, about Jane Austen and her supposed dalliances, cavorting around the meadows in her youth and whatnot. The film is called a speculative biopic, which is a euphemism for ‘we made stuff up’. It’s also capitalising on the Jane Austen revival of recent years, in its various zombie and book club manifestations.
Is The Da Vinci Code that different? Is it the religion thing? It’s not as though the book sits in the non-fiction section. It is a fiction novel, so why the huff?
Though I didn’t find Angels and Demons as compelling, obviously both books milk that mystique of art, history and religion, particularly from the Renaissance period. The Da Vinci Code is interesting. For instance, it touches on the idea of Jesus as a man, not a deity. You can chant historical inaccuracy all you like, but the history of Roman Catholicism—history, in general—is riddled with inaccuracies. I’m not saying that The Da Vinci Code should be treated like a textbook, but if you were to take the Bible as the only history of Catholicism, what would that say about Catholic history?
There are thousands of books that take history and spin yarns around its details. There are books that explicitly borrow from literature, like Geraldine Brooks’ March and, again, Karen Joy Fowler’s The Jane Austen Book Club. The difference, perhaps, is that few of them have enjoyed The Da Vinci Code’s success and I suspect that many of the writers steaming like teapots resent that Dan Brown is rich.
What is so offensive about the idea of millions of people around the world reading the same book? Does a book have to languish in obscurity or win the Nobel Prize to be a true book?
A book sells well and its author makes millions and people bemoan that the blockbuster novel is destroying literature. It’s true that there is an impact on the publishing industry, on writers and authors, and there are discussions to be had about that, but it’s also true that nobody likes a tall poppy. That copyedit of the first chapter of The Da Vinci Code just looked so petulant. I also think it’s mean: a way of saying that anyone who enjoys The Da Vinci Code doesn’t know what good writing is.
As for the complaints that Dan Brown’s writing is woeful and the editing process lax and so on—when I was reading the book, I didn’t even notice. It’s a remarkably clever story.
I can’t believe I’m about to write ‘when I was in Paris and Rome over the summer’, but when I was in Paris and Rome over the summer, I remember thinking that it was easy to see why people were entranced by The Da Vinci Code: clues in Renaissance paintings, secret societies, the shrouded and distorted history of Roman Catholicism.
The Da Vinci Code is gummy. The book wouldn’t be as enticing during a second reading, because the beauty of a great thriller is what alights on the next post. If you already know, the story loses its flavour. Still, I barely put the book down until I finished it and I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.
Historically inaccurate and poorly constructed, they sniff. If I may slip on my robe and ignite my pipe for a moment: what is history?
Sniff.
No comments yet
