The Anchoress
So, Brian Saint-Paul directs our attention to a fun dissection of the execrable prose of Dan Brown. Or, should I say, the “precarious” prose. Writes Brian:
Here are three personal favorites:
17. Deception Point, chapter 8: Overhanging her precarious body was a jaundiced face whose skin resembled a sheet of parchment paper punctured by two emotionless eyes. [The Telegraph’s comment: “It’s not clear what Brown thinks ‘precarious’ means here.”]
14. The Da Vinci Code, chapter 5: Only those with a keen eye would notice his 14-karat gold bishop’s ring with purple amethyst, large diamonds, and hand-tooled mitre-crozier appliqué. [And it took a downright Holmesian observer to catch his polished-platinum codpiece, with “Heartbreaker” spelled out in rubies.]
3. Angels and Demons, opening sentence: Physicist Leonardo Vetra smelled burning flesh, and he knew it was his own. [See, that’s why he’s the physicist.]
Oh, for crying out loud, just send me the money you’d spend on this garbage, and I’ll put it to better use.
In fact, that’s a really good idea. Call it a political act (or a protest against egregious the literary injustice that millions read Brown and so few read O’ Connor) and donate the money you’d spend on any and all Dan Brown products to something worthwhile – a favorite charity, a parish outreach, or these beautiful sisters of the poor.
That’s truly constructive criticism and you get a blessing to boot!
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