And what is this troublesome tome, you ask (or more likely wouldn’t ask)?  Is it the dregs of the literary barrel, the likes of tawdry romances, books with “shopaholic” in the title, or Dan Brown novels?  Not hardly.  I have not fallen so far in our time apart, my friends.  As it happens, I’m reading Crime and Punishment, a classic of Russian Literature.  So why should I be embarrassed, you again might ask?  It’s Doestoy-friggin’-evsky for God’s sake.  Well, that’s just it.  I’m sick of the eye-rolling, the  sarcasm, and the implied, “Ooooh, Doestoyevsky, eh?”

It appears that there are only a few known responses to great works of literature these days.  It is acceptable if the reader appears to be a student, or scholarly in general, but otherwise people seem to think the reader is showing off or else overreaching himself.  You really do get a sense of, “Who does this guy think he is reading a book like that.  Must be trying to show off his intelligence to the world (read: subway car).”   Is it actually plausible that someone would choose to read a book purely to demonstrate his or her academic acumen or pretense thereof?  I’m not sure, it  seems like quite an effort without much pay off.

When I first caught a few looks on the subway, a few hmphs, I wondered, “Do I do this?”  Do I judge people by what they’re reading?  Damn right I do.  But it’s usually the other end of the literary spectrum  And I really shouldn’t, because there are times when I read airport pulp (sometimes not even at airports) and I certainly wouldn’t want to be judged by it.  If someone caught me reading, oh let’s say, John Grisham, I’d certainly feel an even deeper sense of shame than I do now.  I’d be scrambling through my bag in a flash saying, “Wait, wait! I’m actually reading Doestoyevsky!” I guess it’s the same impulse that leads me to scratch at those damn “Oprah Book Club” stickers.  So, am I destined to be embarrassed by both really bad and really good books?  Will I be forced to find books that straddle the divide?  Nah… In the end, it really doesn’t bother me that much, it’s more of just an observation.  I feel much better now.  Good, I’m glad we talked.

Anyway, that’s enough tangential Tolstoy.  For now, it’s back to my book.  I’ve made it through the Crime and I have a feeling there’s some punishment on it’s way.

In fact, I feel like drafting a letter:

Dear Mr. Eco (eco.. eco… eco…),

I find your ideas compelling; however, there’s no need to write like that.

Sincerely,

David J. Ford

Top Ten Lies You’ve Probably Heard About The Davinci Code

10. It’s really well written.
It sure as hell isn’t. This is one of the worst written pieces of trash I’ve ever read. I could give you a hundred examples if I had the book here in front of me… which I don’t.

9. You Can’t Put it Down.
There’s a simple reason for this. It’s because every chapter ends like this: “And what he saw, was the most amazing thing he had ever seen, perhaps in his entire life, and he knew in his heart, that he would never see anything so incredible ever again… And then the movie music goes “da da Daaa.”… and then… break for commercial.

8. The book is well researched.
There are a lot of facts in this book, that is true, but it’s a far cry from well researched. Half of these facts don’t fit into the writing; they are facts for the sake of facts. When we’re talking about the Louvre, who cares how many security cameras there are. These little factoids jar at you like flat notes in a symphony.

7. You’ll never read anything like it.
Sorry, no. Not really. Once you peel back a few layers, it’s nothing special. I have 35 books at home with the same plot. They’re blue hard-covers about Frank and Joe Hardy.

6. It’s a quick read.
This one is true. But it’s not a good thing. The reason it’s a quick read is that the prose is so simplistic. You could probably read your grade four reader in one sitting too.

5. The ultimate who dunnit.
Not to spoil it for anyone, but here’s a tip: Take out the two protagonists, cancel out anyone that you’re “supposed” to think is the bad guy, and then pick the one person who seems least likely to have done it. Good work Agatha Christie.

4. It’s really controversial.
This one really bugs me. People seem to forget that this is a work of fiction. Anything controversial is basically plagiarized from other “Holy Grail Scholars” anyway. People just love a conspiracy theory. What’s irritating is that for such a “well researched” book, Brown skews history and fact to his liking, and people think, “Well Gee Whiz, it must be true, it’s in a book.” Just one example of many: Brown states that at the Nicean Council the bishops got together and decided, by a slim majority, that Christ was divine. Well, not really. They did get together, but what they were deciding was HOW he was divine… you know, like all that complicated trinity stuff.

3. The plot is so intricate.
Hardly. All you’ve got is two people running around for twenty-four hours solving word games. Remember Silence of the Lambs? Back then anagrams were cool.

2. You’re hooked from the start.
The start is one of the least plausible parts of the book. Ok, you’ve got a seventy year old museum curator, supposedly the last living guardian of an Earth Shattering Secret (gasp!). Instead of running, or dodging, or even moving at all, he lets some guy twenty feet away, behind security bars, shoot him in the stomach. Then, with one of the most painful of fatal wounds, he decides to set a series of clues that only his estranged granddaughter and a renowned Harvard Symbologist, he knows is in town, can decipher. Because even though he has never met this guy, he knows he can trust him and the granddaughter he hasn’t spoken to in ten years with this incredible secret. Oh yes, then he uses his own naked body and blood as the opening clue, and dies spread eagled on the floor. Oh yeah, one last thing. The guy is French, and he does all of this in English.

1. It’s one of the best books you’ll ever read.
No it isn’t. Take a step back from the hype. It sucks.