To put the matter succinctly, The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
(Doubleday, $24.95) is overwritten (454 pages), overplotted and overdrawn.
And Christians are likely to find it offensive, although it is
exceptionally clever in an intellectual way. It distorts church history
while putting a modern dress on the hoary Arian heresy, weaving historical
and pseudo-historical threads through a contemporary mystery that is set in
motion by the murder in the Louvre of the famous museum's curator.
Brown's novel, his second featuring the Harvard symbologist Robert
Langdon, has also been overbought and overpraised, due at least in part to a
marketing ploy which found Doubleday distributing 10,000 free advance copies
to the media. This, according to The New York Times, was more copies than
any of his previous books sold.
On the surface, the tale involves Langdon and a French police
cryptologist, Sophie Neveu, in efforts to unravel puzzling clues crafted by
Jacques Sauniere, Sophie's grandfather, as his life ebbed away after he was
shot by a monkish albino figure pursuing a religious secret of which
Sauniere was the last surviving guardian. Three other guardians were killed
earlier.
Because Langdon's name surfaces in Sauniere's cipher, he immediately
becomes the chief suspect, making it necessary for him, with Sophie as an
ally, to evade the police while following the clues. Which, of course, are
also of interest to the killers because Sauniere, before his death, sent
them down a blind alley.
As you might expect, however, nothing is as it seems. Sauniere, it turns
out, is the head of a secret society, the Priory of Sion, dedicated to
protecting historical documents challenging the divinity of Jesus. Moreover,
the monkish figure is a member of Opus Dei acting on behalf of the bishop
who heads that society. Behind them both is a shadowy character they know
only as the Teacher.
(This is apparently open season on Opus Dei. The leadership of the church
society was also portrayed as murderous in the recent spy tale, "The
Confessor.")
Back to Sauniere. His clues pinpoint the location of the documents. They
refer the cognoscenti to famous Leonardo da Vinci paintings at the Louvre,
among them the Mona Lisa and the Last Supper, in which other clues regarding
the nature of the secret are to be found, thus explaining the title of
Brown's book.
Now if you have strong feelings about reviews that give away too many
details of a mystery (it is in the details, after all, that a mystery
achieves the status of a mystery), then you had best stop here and go on
about your business.
Brown's secret concerns the Holy Grail.
However, the Holy Grail is not the chalice of the Crusades and Arthurian
legend but the "cup," or womb, of Mary Magdalene.
As Brown has Langdon explain to Sophie, in da Vinci's rendition of the
last supper the Magdalene is the figure generally thought of as an Apostle
resting on the breast of Jesus. She is doing so because Jesus, who is a
great man but nevertheless only a man like other men, is her husband.
Plunging further into the land of make-believe, "The Da Vinci Code" then
identifies Sophie as a blood descendant of that union, this too being among
the secrets Sauniere had been guarding, even keeping this knowledge from
Sophie.
Moreover, all of this, including a "spiritual" sex ritual which led
Sophie to shun her grandfather for 10 years, is tied up with the church's
suppression of the "sacred feminine" side of Christianity. One aspect of
this suppression was the manipulation of Scripture by the early church, with
contrary writings being left out of the scriptural canon.
Through his characters, Brown also posits this suppression as a factor in
the development of attitudes which led to the killing of 5 million women
during the Inquisition.
One can argue, of course, that in fiction the author has great
interpretive leeway. As indeed he does. But Brown mixes actual -- if arcane
-- facts with speculation and fantasy in such a fashion that the whole
easily takes on that aura of historicity.
To a writer, this is a skill of great value. But, like any skill, it can
be put to less-than-honest use. In "The Da Vinci Code" it is used to call
into question the basis of Christian faith and to attack the church in a
format -- the novel -- where one does not ordinarily expect to encounter
argument masquerading as historical truth.
Thomas, retired editor in chief of The Christophers and a former diocesan
newspaper editor, is a frequent reviewer of books.