How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love The Da Vinci Code

What can I say that has not already been said? All I can do is reiterate what the venerable Nelson DeMille said so truthfully: “This is pure genius.”

America’s most powerful and beautiful literary gem succeeds where other attempts have failed: Not only has symbology become sexy again (finally!), but literature as we know it has been revolutionized. Move aside Homer, Shakespeare, Austen, Conrad, and Steele – your works seem paltry and contrived in comparison with Brown’s literary effortlessness. There is a new genius in town and his name is Dan Brown.

With the indelible and potent words, “Robert Langdon awoke slowly,” the wild ride that is The Da Vinci Code begins. With every sentence the plot builds, and my mind is stretched. Brown is a master of the English language, expertly using the common vernacular to create artistic wonder, leading to poetic transcendence. As Brown’s intriguing protagonist wonders “Where the hell am I?” the reader is forced to ask the question: What the hell is this writer doing with literary conventions? The answer: he’s throwing them out the window! That’s right, Brown’s genius lies not only in his ability to depict the nuances of character presented in the figures of Robert and the rest of the stunningly brilliant and conflicted cast (Silas the Albino moved me to tears), but also in his ability to throw grammatical and literary caution to the wind. An almost inhuman dependence upon italics, a preternatural understanding of the modern attention span, and an unbridled affection for unabashedly mixing fact with fiction – all these things contribute to Brown’s masterpiece and the world is changed irrevocably.

Let me be the first to say, on behalf of humanity, that I am forever grateful Brown condescended to lay aside his budding musical career in order to pursue his true calling. Although children everywhere will undoubtedly miss his post-modern musical lullabies, I for one am thankful that after his hit “Happy Frogs” from his album “Synthanimals,” Brown deigned to make his foray into the annals of literary history (or herstory as the case may be).

Knowing full well that I will be unable to do Brown’s talent justice, let me just say that when I finished The Da Vinci Code I ended up in much the same position as Langdon on the last page – on my knees. Only in my case, the Sacred Feminine takes second place to the sacred genius of the world’s most renowned author since John and Stasi Eldredge.