REFERENCED BOOK The Da Vinci
Code by Dan Brown Doubleday March
2003, 454 pages, $24.95 |
Dan Brown's mystery/thriller The Da Vinci Code is
the kind of phenomenon for which the words "mammoth" and
"blockbuster" were seemingly invented. Every now and again, an
author manages to find the cultural sweet spot with surgical
precision, and many trees are felled to print the billions of
pages demanded by hungry readers.
In fact, the book has been at or near the top of the sales
charts for more than two years now -- the first printing hit
shelves in March, 2003. At one point, Da Vinci was
selling around 100,000 copies per week. Two years
later, and it's still hovering in the top five of the New
York Times bestsellers list. To date, it has sold more
than 18 million copies and has been translated into at least
44 languages. Everyone I know has read this book. Everyone you
know has read this book.
Indeed, Brown's efforts have spawned a kind of pocket
industry -- a movie is forthcoming next summer (Tom Hanks and
director Ron Howard are attached), and countless TV, radio and
magazine specials on the book have already come and gone.
Da Vinci's success has also had the effect of
spinning off dozens of "response" books by historians,
quasi-historians and trivia-peddlers hawking insights into the
secrets of the mothership tome. A quick Google of Amazon (O
glorious technobabble!) returns several titles: Secrets of
the Code, Da Vinci Code Decoded, The Truth
Behind the Da Vinci Code, Truth and Fiction in the Da
Vinci Code, Unlocking Da Vinci's Code and
Decoding Da Vinci. I am dead serious when I say Da
Vinci for Dummies is on shelves now.
Of course, it's not uncommon in the book industry for a
massively popular piece of work to generate companion titles
looking to cash in on the action. The Da Vinci Code
phenomenon is somewhat different, however. The relationship of
these books to the source work is not as overtly parasitic as
in other cases. (Does the world really need New Clues to
Harry Potter, Book Five? No kidding, you can look it up.)
Instead, several of these response books are written by
scholars and historians who take umbrage with Brown's claims
to historical authenticity within the fictional framework of
The Da Vinci Code. (Soon, the Catholic Church will be
involved in all the factual hand-wringing, too:
Seventy-year-old Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone, the Archbishop of
Genoa, was selected by the Vatican to officially pen their
official rebuttal to Brown's novel in March.)
They are academic works, primarily, often published by a
university press and crammed with the kind of obsessive
footnoting that makes textbooks so much fun to read. The
authors of these particular works aren't looking to attach
their books, barnacle-like, to the hull of the mighty S.S.
Da Vinci. (Although the association probably doesn't keep
them up nights, either.) Instead, they have scholarly bones to
pick.
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Da Vinci begins with a seemingly blunt declaration
concerning the factual accuracy of historical artifacts
referenced and described within the stories:
All descriptions of artwork, architecture,
documents and secret rituals in this novel are
accurate.
Brown's preface, sort of the opposite of a disclaimer (a
"claimer"?), is actually very canny. This one simple sentence
has proven to be incredibly effective at coloring the
experience of reading the book that follows. Many if not most
of Da Vinci's readers seem to have interpreted the
preface to mean a lot more than it actually does.
Look carefully, and you'll see that Brown employs some
rather dexterous sleight-of-pen in that preface. At first
glance, it seems very bold and compelling. Reread it, though,
and you'll see that Brown is quite specific about the elements
of the book he claims to be historically accurate. His
descriptions of the artwork, architecture, documents and
secret rituals in Da Vinci are, indeed, accurate. The
story that surrounds them, however, is conjecture; a puzzle
assembled from historical jigsaw pieces that have been
rearranged to present another picture. It's a neat trick.
A big part of the reason the trick works so well is that
the story itself is carefully researched -- it's apparent that
Brown put a lot of effort into the details. The book proceeds
from accepted historical subject matter. (As accepted as can
be reasonably demanded -- there's a whole 'nother
epistemological conversation here on what we think we "know"
about history.) And the central "mystery" uncovered in Da
Vinci is actually a fairly well-worn theory that's been
floated in conspiracy circles for a very long time.
Brown naturally uses quite a bit of selective editing and
convenient rearranging to power the revisionist histories he
describes, and his characters come to conclusions that are
wildly inventive, from a rigorous scholarly standpoint. In
fact, it's clear that Brown takes creative license throughout
the book, in regard to what's fact, what's fiction, and
whatever's in between. The academicians can point you to many
of the specifics, if you're interested (I recommend Bart
Ehrman's Truth and Fiction in the Da Vinci Code). But
even the modestly attentive reader will conclude after reading
Da Vinci that the story is, as they say, too good to be
true.
Well, of course. Da Vinci is a fiction novel, and
what's more, it's a thriller -- a page-turner designed to
provide a hook on every page, and a cliffhanger in every
chapter. The book's preface serves the same basic function as
title cards in movie that read, "Based on a true story," or
even more vaguely, "Inspired by a true story." It's for
effect.
This is a familiar trope in cinema, and storytelling in
general. You can rest assured that Mr. Brown knows exactly
what he's doing. His preface statement heightens the wonder
and excitement that Brown so effectively summons from the rich
topic he explores. The book suggests not just an alternative
history -- this could have happened! -- but a
deliberately concealed actual history -- this is what
really happened! The effect plays into what is perhaps the
greatest strength of Brown's pop literary formula -- he writes
efficient thrillers that make you feel smart.
Because Brown's fact/fiction misdirections are so subtle,
and the "mystery" he reveals so astonishing, a massive
readership has been incidentally (or perhaps skillfully)
nudged into an interesting vantage point on history itself.
For the first time, many readers are reflecting on their
history classes and books, religious and secular, and on the
nature of received wisdom. Who do you choose to believe? What
do you want to believe? How do we know what we think we
know?
Times being what they are, several parties are cleaning up
by trolling this strange ancillary market. Brown suggests a
massive cultural conspiracy that is historically
actual. The more scholarly response books are falling
over each other to tell you otherwise. The savviest critics
are not actually responding to historical discrepancies in the
fictional The Da Vinci Code, but to a readership that
is taking the story literally. Meanwhile, the evangelists and
trivia-peddlers assemble quickie books to mine the areas in
between.
And everybody's winking, just a little bit.