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The Code Begins.
Sep. 7th, 2007 09:27 pmThe Da Vinci Code came today!
I barely got any time off. Oh well. Onward! In the name of... Trying to Kill My BRAIN!! WOO!
I got the picture edition of the Da Vinci code. Which should be fun.
The book begins with something very important:
Fact:
The Priory of Sion - a European secret society founded in 1099 - is a real organization. In 1973 Pari's Bibliotheque Nationale discovered parchments known as Les Dossiers Secrets, identifying numerous members of the Priory of Sion, including Sir Issac Newton, Botticelli, Victor Hugo, and Leonardo da Vinci.
The Vatican prelature known as Opus Dei is a deeply devout Catholic sect that has been the topic of recent controversy due to reports of brainwashing, coercion, and a dangerous practice known as "corporal mortification". Opus Dei has just completed construction of a $47 million National Headquarters at 243 Lexington Avenue in New York City.
All descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents and secret rituals in this novel are accurate.
Now, my first wholly unanalytical thought about this paragraph is, "I thought it was the Scientologists who did the brainwashing." Anyway. Brown has made a huge claim here in these paragraphs. One that is very dangerous. By asserting that every description of artwork, architecture, documents and secret rituals are true, he forces the world to take place in our world as opposed to an alternate reality. What I mean by an alternate reality is that if he didn't say that they were true, the then reader would just assume that these things are true in the world that the story takes place in. By saying that they are accurate, he has to prove this point when ever he brings up one of these items. If the above section had happened within the actual text of the story, then it would be assumed that the documents are true within the story's world. Much like those little factual things sometimes put at the beginning of chapters.
However, separated as it is, from the actual text of the novel, leaves himself open to being proven wrong, thus discrediting the story.
Prologue: Louvre Museum, Paris. 10:46 P.M.
We begin with the curator Jacques Sauniere staggering into the Louvre's Grand Gallery where he yanks a painting -a Caravaggio- off the wall and sends the security doors slamming down. Laying on the ground he thinks to himself that he is still alive as he looks for a place to hide. He's being chased then.
He's being chased by an albino with a gun with an accent that's not easy to place. The albino wants the curator to tell him where something is. The curator, obviously, denies knowing whatever it is that the albino wants. They have a mysterious discussion where the albino asserts that he knows something that the curator's brethren told him, saying that he killed them too. There is a delicious line of "If I die; the truth will be lost forever." Very cliche that line, but it's setting up the mystery so, I suppose it has to be allowed.
And then the albino shoots him, but doesn't kill him. He goes to shoot him again, but is out of bullets.
The click of an empty chamber echoed through the corridor.
The curator's eyes flew open.
The man glanced down at his weapon, looking almost amused. He reached for a second clip, but the seemed to reconsider, smirking calmly at Sauniere's gut. "My work here is done."
And then, he leaves.
Yes. He leaves. The Albino knows that the man he just shot has a secret and that he's the last one with the secret. He has a fatal wound but not completely fatal as it'll take about fifteen minutes for him to die and by then help might get there, by the way, where are the guards? Shouldn't they have come running once the alarms were set off? He's not out of bullets, it would take a couple of seconds to reload, and he DOESN'T KILL THE GUY! YOU DON'T LEAVE AN ENEMY ALIVE IF YOU CAN KILL HIM!! This is called the bad guys being intentionally stupid so that the plot can move forward. Because, if the bad guy didn't leave him alive, the curator couldn't leave clues to his murderer.
Also, while we're talking stupid plot holes, why doesn't the curator have a cell phone? Because if he did, then he could have called for an ambulance or security to get down their quicker. If they did that, then he wouldn't be able to pass on his secret to the right man for the job. If anything, he could have had a cell phone, tried to use it and discover that he doesn't have any signal and then go off and do whatever it is he's going to do.
Chapter one:
We begin with our hero, Robert Langdun waking up. He's asleep in the Hotel Ritz Paris, and is woken up by a phone ringing. It's the concierge who says that Robert has a visitor. Apparently he had only been asleep for an hour, "but felt like the dead". A curious turn of phrase, seeing as how it's past midnight and usually, after being woken up after an hour's sleep that late at night, it would be perfectly normal to feel like the dead. Usually, if I don't get three hours of sleep I feel like the dead. The way the sentence is structured makes it seem like he shouldn't be feeling like the dead.
Mr. Langdun is in Paris, having given a lecture. He thinks that his visitor is someone who got their feathers ruffled from his lecture that evening. He tells the concierge to tell the guy to go away and hangs up the phone. We then get a look of Robert Langdon in the mirror, thus letting us know what he looks like. Having your character look at himself in the mirror is a cliched way to let the reader know what they look like. It works, but it sometimes it's simpler just to have your character be described in the narrative. That way you don't have to hope you have a mirror around for them to look in.
He reminisces about earlier that evening and about an article that Boston Magazine did on him naming him as one of the city's ten most intriguing people. Apparently the person who introduced him that night used the article in her opening speech. We learn, from this that Robert was involved in an incident with the Vatican's conclave and that his voice has been described as "chocolate for the ears." Nummy.
The phone rings again and the guy down stairs is telling Robert that the very important visitor is coming up to his room and apparently he didn't have the authority to stop him. The visitor turns out to be the French equivalent of the FBI. He wants Langdon to come with him now. Apparently Langdon was to meet with the curator that night, but the curator never showed up.
The Agent shows Robert a photograph that was taken an hour ago in the Louvre. We are not told what is in the photograph, but instead shown Robert's reaction. He's horrified. We're told it's a bizzare image. But what is bizzare, we don't know. For all I know it could be two goats fucking a girl. Which is a very bizzare image and certainly disturbing and would cause rage, which is what happens to Robert.
Apparently there is symbology in the picture of the two goats and girl which is why they came to Robert. He's an expert in it, plus he was going to be meeting with the curator. Then we learn that there's a corpse in the picture. So, the goats are fucking a dead girl. Lovely.
Finally we get a bit of a hint on whats in the picture,
Langdon stared at the picture, his horror now laced with fear. The image was gruesome and profoundly strange, bringing with it an unsettling sense of deja vu. A little over a year ago, Langdon had received a photograph of a corpse and a similar request for help. Twenty four hours later, he had almost lost his life inside Vatican City. This photo was entirely different, and yet something about the scenario felt the same
Okay, so, he's seen something similar. Perhaps a pair of sheep fucking a dead girl? I don't know. I'm getting kinda frustrated here. All I know is that there's this picture with something horrifying on it. And there's a dead person.
Langdon finally wonders who would do such a thing. The Agent says that the curator did it to himself.
GASP! So it's not a pair of goats fucking a dead girl! It's the curator mysteriously position (again, we don't know how, perhaps there are goats involved after all) and there are symbols. But we are missing vital information. We've been missing it since the photograph was introduced. This information is vital for us to understand what's happening in the story. We need to know what is so horrifying about the way this man has positioned himself? What do these symbols look like? What is so special about it.
We're not told this, however. Instead we have to read on to find out. Thus, the reader is forced to continue on to learn the answer to this mystery instead of trying to figure out what the actual mystery (why was his body positioned the way it is and what the symbols could mean) is. This takes away some of the reader participation. After all, they're not allowed to puzzle over the meaning along with Robert. They just have to kind of hang around in the background, like spies over-hearing a conversation. Technically speaking, we would have gotten as much information about the picture if we had heard them talking out loud and not reading about their conversation.
While, yes, it does create a sense of mystery. What is in the picture? What is so horrifying? We're detached from the situation, because well, we're just being told that there's something horrifying to see, instead of actually seeing it for ourselves. For all we know, the goat scenario isn't as horrifying as the picture. But for all we know, it isn't.
I barely got any time off. Oh well. Onward! In the name of... Trying to Kill My BRAIN!! WOO!
I got the picture edition of the Da Vinci code. Which should be fun.
The book begins with something very important:
Fact:
The Priory of Sion - a European secret society founded in 1099 - is a real organization. In 1973 Pari's Bibliotheque Nationale discovered parchments known as Les Dossiers Secrets, identifying numerous members of the Priory of Sion, including Sir Issac Newton, Botticelli, Victor Hugo, and Leonardo da Vinci.
The Vatican prelature known as Opus Dei is a deeply devout Catholic sect that has been the topic of recent controversy due to reports of brainwashing, coercion, and a dangerous practice known as "corporal mortification". Opus Dei has just completed construction of a $47 million National Headquarters at 243 Lexington Avenue in New York City.
All descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents and secret rituals in this novel are accurate.
Now, my first wholly unanalytical thought about this paragraph is, "I thought it was the Scientologists who did the brainwashing." Anyway. Brown has made a huge claim here in these paragraphs. One that is very dangerous. By asserting that every description of artwork, architecture, documents and secret rituals are true, he forces the world to take place in our world as opposed to an alternate reality. What I mean by an alternate reality is that if he didn't say that they were true, the then reader would just assume that these things are true in the world that the story takes place in. By saying that they are accurate, he has to prove this point when ever he brings up one of these items. If the above section had happened within the actual text of the story, then it would be assumed that the documents are true within the story's world. Much like those little factual things sometimes put at the beginning of chapters.
However, separated as it is, from the actual text of the novel, leaves himself open to being proven wrong, thus discrediting the story.
Prologue: Louvre Museum, Paris. 10:46 P.M.
We begin with the curator Jacques Sauniere staggering into the Louvre's Grand Gallery where he yanks a painting -a Caravaggio- off the wall and sends the security doors slamming down. Laying on the ground he thinks to himself that he is still alive as he looks for a place to hide. He's being chased then.
He's being chased by an albino with a gun with an accent that's not easy to place. The albino wants the curator to tell him where something is. The curator, obviously, denies knowing whatever it is that the albino wants. They have a mysterious discussion where the albino asserts that he knows something that the curator's brethren told him, saying that he killed them too. There is a delicious line of "If I die; the truth will be lost forever." Very cliche that line, but it's setting up the mystery so, I suppose it has to be allowed.
And then the albino shoots him, but doesn't kill him. He goes to shoot him again, but is out of bullets.
The click of an empty chamber echoed through the corridor.
The curator's eyes flew open.
The man glanced down at his weapon, looking almost amused. He reached for a second clip, but the seemed to reconsider, smirking calmly at Sauniere's gut. "My work here is done."
And then, he leaves.
Yes. He leaves. The Albino knows that the man he just shot has a secret and that he's the last one with the secret. He has a fatal wound but not completely fatal as it'll take about fifteen minutes for him to die and by then help might get there, by the way, where are the guards? Shouldn't they have come running once the alarms were set off? He's not out of bullets, it would take a couple of seconds to reload, and he DOESN'T KILL THE GUY! YOU DON'T LEAVE AN ENEMY ALIVE IF YOU CAN KILL HIM!! This is called the bad guys being intentionally stupid so that the plot can move forward. Because, if the bad guy didn't leave him alive, the curator couldn't leave clues to his murderer.
Also, while we're talking stupid plot holes, why doesn't the curator have a cell phone? Because if he did, then he could have called for an ambulance or security to get down their quicker. If they did that, then he wouldn't be able to pass on his secret to the right man for the job. If anything, he could have had a cell phone, tried to use it and discover that he doesn't have any signal and then go off and do whatever it is he's going to do.
Chapter one:
We begin with our hero, Robert Langdun waking up. He's asleep in the Hotel Ritz Paris, and is woken up by a phone ringing. It's the concierge who says that Robert has a visitor. Apparently he had only been asleep for an hour, "but felt like the dead". A curious turn of phrase, seeing as how it's past midnight and usually, after being woken up after an hour's sleep that late at night, it would be perfectly normal to feel like the dead. Usually, if I don't get three hours of sleep I feel like the dead. The way the sentence is structured makes it seem like he shouldn't be feeling like the dead.
Mr. Langdun is in Paris, having given a lecture. He thinks that his visitor is someone who got their feathers ruffled from his lecture that evening. He tells the concierge to tell the guy to go away and hangs up the phone. We then get a look of Robert Langdon in the mirror, thus letting us know what he looks like. Having your character look at himself in the mirror is a cliched way to let the reader know what they look like. It works, but it sometimes it's simpler just to have your character be described in the narrative. That way you don't have to hope you have a mirror around for them to look in.
He reminisces about earlier that evening and about an article that Boston Magazine did on him naming him as one of the city's ten most intriguing people. Apparently the person who introduced him that night used the article in her opening speech. We learn, from this that Robert was involved in an incident with the Vatican's conclave and that his voice has been described as "chocolate for the ears." Nummy.
The phone rings again and the guy down stairs is telling Robert that the very important visitor is coming up to his room and apparently he didn't have the authority to stop him. The visitor turns out to be the French equivalent of the FBI. He wants Langdon to come with him now. Apparently Langdon was to meet with the curator that night, but the curator never showed up.
The Agent shows Robert a photograph that was taken an hour ago in the Louvre. We are not told what is in the photograph, but instead shown Robert's reaction. He's horrified. We're told it's a bizzare image. But what is bizzare, we don't know. For all I know it could be two goats fucking a girl. Which is a very bizzare image and certainly disturbing and would cause rage, which is what happens to Robert.
Apparently there is symbology in the picture of the two goats and girl which is why they came to Robert. He's an expert in it, plus he was going to be meeting with the curator. Then we learn that there's a corpse in the picture. So, the goats are fucking a dead girl. Lovely.
Finally we get a bit of a hint on whats in the picture,
Langdon stared at the picture, his horror now laced with fear. The image was gruesome and profoundly strange, bringing with it an unsettling sense of deja vu. A little over a year ago, Langdon had received a photograph of a corpse and a similar request for help. Twenty four hours later, he had almost lost his life inside Vatican City. This photo was entirely different, and yet something about the scenario felt the same
Okay, so, he's seen something similar. Perhaps a pair of sheep fucking a dead girl? I don't know. I'm getting kinda frustrated here. All I know is that there's this picture with something horrifying on it. And there's a dead person.
Langdon finally wonders who would do such a thing. The Agent says that the curator did it to himself.
GASP! So it's not a pair of goats fucking a dead girl! It's the curator mysteriously position (again, we don't know how, perhaps there are goats involved after all) and there are symbols. But we are missing vital information. We've been missing it since the photograph was introduced. This information is vital for us to understand what's happening in the story. We need to know what is so horrifying about the way this man has positioned himself? What do these symbols look like? What is so special about it.
We're not told this, however. Instead we have to read on to find out. Thus, the reader is forced to continue on to learn the answer to this mystery instead of trying to figure out what the actual mystery (why was his body positioned the way it is and what the symbols could mean) is. This takes away some of the reader participation. After all, they're not allowed to puzzle over the meaning along with Robert. They just have to kind of hang around in the background, like spies over-hearing a conversation. Technically speaking, we would have gotten as much information about the picture if we had heard them talking out loud and not reading about their conversation.
While, yes, it does create a sense of mystery. What is in the picture? What is so horrifying? We're detached from the situation, because well, we're just being told that there's something horrifying to see, instead of actually seeing it for ourselves. For all we know, the goat scenario isn't as horrifying as the picture. But for all we know, it isn't.
