I was in Borders last night, and I picked up "The DaVinci Code." I am not a big reader of fiction. The last fiction I read was Neal Stepehnson's semi-historical 'Cryptonomicon,' and that was four years ago. (Well, I also browsed the "National Strategy for Victory in Iraq," but let's not go there. Oh, wait. We're already there. Forever, apparently.)
Based on all the hoopla this book has generated, I expected something along the lines of a John LeCarre novel, but set against the backdrop of Vatican intrigue, lost gospels and the quest for the Holy Grail. What I'm reading is more like a slapdash knockoff of Tom Clancy. It's pretty dreary to pick up a best-selling novel, read a couple of chapters, and think, 'Shit, I could have written better than this.'
A lot has been written about this book's "Mr. & Mrs. Jesus Christ" angle. But after you've swallowed the idea that the grand master of a millennia-old secret society turns his most precious secret over to a near-stranger, and that a cryptographer-cop concocts, on the spur of the moment, an incredibly elaborate scheme to help a suspected murderer escape one of her own colleagues... well, you're not going to find anything in a Dead Sea Scroll that's weirder than that.
There sure is a lot of driving around in this book. People drive around and talk about the Holy Grail and stuff. They're in Paris, and they make sure to drive past all the landmarks. Every one gets a mention.
You already know about DaVinci's hidden messages in 'The Last Supper.' Did you know Walt Disney hid messages in 'The Little Mermaid'? Even though he'd been about twenty years when it was made? Pretty astonishing stuff.
I'm halfway through. I'll finish tonight or tomorrow.
I have to go back to work now.
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