Opening a small band up to a large audience is tricky. Finding the balance between maintaining one's artistry and reaching out to a specific demographic often results in failure on some level.
I've discussed this in the past, specifically regarding Death Cab For Cutie's Plans and Snow Patrol's Eyes Open. Neither album is a failure, but neither lives up to their bands' promise. Plans is a fine album, but it departs from Death Cab's rock background, instead aiming for the soft-pop audience that somehow connected Ben Gibbard to a soundtrack he was entirely uninvolved with (Garden State). Eyes Open, meanwhile, is okay, but more significantly it marks Snow Patrol's bid to become the official band of the now-defunct Dubba-Dubba-WB. Common to both is increased prominence for their lead singers' voices, as compared to the backing music; this works in neither case. There's an instinct to emphasize global components (words, the vocal hook) when that might not be the right decision. Point being that bands typically seem to seek fame by moving away from what put them in position to become famous.
On that front, I have good news. I was lucky enough to hear The Decemberists' major-label debut, The Crane Wife, recently. I cannot stop listening to it. It's their best work to date... from start to finish, a home run. (Oh, the sporting life.) Colin Meloy and company have taken their pretty, quaint, firmly-entrenched-in-a-niche sound and made something a) broad, b) consistent with previous Decemberists albums, and c) more focused than any of their other works. It's the kind of album a band makes at its absolute peak. It is all the things for The Decemberists that Plans and Eyes Open are not for Death Cab and Snow Patrol.
I'm genuinely stunned that they made this album, that they are the band that achieved the balancing act. Their bread-and-butter, to date, has been sea shanties and tragic period romances. The band has always served as a backup act to Meloy's vocabulary-soaked, letter-R-deficient tales of Barrow-boys, Chimbley Sweeps, and giant Whales. The music thus takes on a mood to match the lyrics, suggesting a band of traveling minstrels rather than a rock group. Her Majesty and Picaresque are perfect albums in their own way, but they are also exceedingly quirky, to the point where they almost demand an apology. I would never have guessed that they'd zip it up and make such promising music. Congrats to everyone in the band, as well as producer Chris Walla (who also produced S.A.C. whipping-boy Plans).
The key difference is that The Crane Wife seems to have a musical axe to grind. The primary objective is to showcase the band's musical ambitions and arrangement skills, not to showcase Meloy and his thesaurus. "The Perfect Crime #2" is a Steely Dan homage first, and a story of blackmail and double-crossing second. The allegorical tale of invasion, colonialism and rape in "The Island" takes a back seat to an impenetrable wall of prog-rock keyboards. On Picaresque, that wall would be made of accordions and bass viols, and Meloy's voice would have been more prominent in the mixing process. Instead, they appear to have taken up the torch for historically-themed folk-prog-rock from Jethro Tull. Having heard the finished product, it really, really works.
(Those two bands aren't very dissimilar, when you think about it. Especially when you examine their respective lyrical tones. Many people will assert that prog-rock was a departure for The Decemberists; those people should listen to Thick As A Brick and The Minstrel In The Gallery a few times before saying that stuff. The more I think about it, the more natural the progression feels.)
The other half of the equation, making the musical spotlight possible, is the restraint/focus that Meloy shows in his storytelling. He's one of the most gifted songwriters on the planet, but part of the risk involved with his earlier works is his penchant for indulgence. There is nothing as precious as "The Chimbley Sweep," as whimsical as "Billy Liar," or as alliterative and thesaurus-heavy as "Los Angeles, I'm Yours." (Which is a personal favorite of mine.) Some have commented that this is a sign of weakness as compared to Picaresque, but I think the opposite. I think it's a sign that after some experimentation, all of which was successful, they are forging a path that works.
But while The Crane Wife is somewhat of a departure, it's still a Decemberists album. It's not going to disappoint and perplex longtime fans of the bands (save they who bee Pirates, yarrrrrr). Their trademarks are still present... just not focal. And that's one of the marks of a great band... the ability to move in a new direction without abandoning what that made them famous to begin with.
In short, while it doesn't have the consensus-winning appeal of an album like Come On Feel The Illinoise!, it's a perfect example of a band taking its shot at stardom and knocking it out of the park. You have to appreciate these instances when they come up. So, hats off to The Decemberists. We'll celebrate again when I buy the album.
[Edited 7:04 for typos & rewording.]
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Saturday, August 19, 2006
I'm Tired Of These Mothafuckin Snakes...
So, the movie actually isn't bad. Oh, it's bad, but I had a good time anyway. The whole "internet" thing totally lowered everyone's expectations; with quality a non-factor, people seemed to have a pretty good time with it. And it even has a life-affirming message!
I find it amusing that this is the first movie post I've needed to qualify with spoiler warnings; NO film deserves such warnings less. But hey, that's life.
SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER
Personally, I think they went a little overboard with the snakes. No, just kidding, but there was a lot of gratuitous shit that had nothing to do with the snakes. That stuff bothered me. What's the point of killing somebody as a joke if the snakes didn't do it? Getting trampled by some asshole in high heels is funny? The movie isn't called Cunts On A Plane. It's called Motherfucking Snakes on a Motherfucking Plane. So if some poor bastard has a gruesome death that does not come at the hands (?) of a snake, what's the point? That pissed me off.
More importantly, the climax leaves something to be desired. Getting sucked out into the ocean via vacuum? What the fuck kind of shitty ending is that?!? As someone who inserts "GET OFF MY PLANE!!!" into everyday conversation, I was hoping for an Air Force One-esque moment where Samuel L. has a big "showdown" with the "king" snake or whatever. But no. They have a "clever" idea and it makes the problem disappear. Sorry, but that's not gonna cut it. It's like if Jaws had ended with Roy Scheider calling the Coast Guard. Laaaaaame.
Though on the flip side, a snake got peed on. Now THAT'S entertainment! I'll buy THAT fer a doller!!!
END SPOILERS
Anyway, I did have a good time. I'm impressed at how they kept those snakes under control. Pretty amazing job of snake-wrangling.
I find it amusing that this is the first movie post I've needed to qualify with spoiler warnings; NO film deserves such warnings less. But hey, that's life.
SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER
Personally, I think they went a little overboard with the snakes. No, just kidding, but there was a lot of gratuitous shit that had nothing to do with the snakes. That stuff bothered me. What's the point of killing somebody as a joke if the snakes didn't do it? Getting trampled by some asshole in high heels is funny? The movie isn't called Cunts On A Plane. It's called Motherfucking Snakes on a Motherfucking Plane. So if some poor bastard has a gruesome death that does not come at the hands (?) of a snake, what's the point? That pissed me off.
More importantly, the climax leaves something to be desired. Getting sucked out into the ocean via vacuum? What the fuck kind of shitty ending is that?!? As someone who inserts "GET OFF MY PLANE!!!" into everyday conversation, I was hoping for an Air Force One-esque moment where Samuel L. has a big "showdown" with the "king" snake or whatever. But no. They have a "clever" idea and it makes the problem disappear. Sorry, but that's not gonna cut it. It's like if Jaws had ended with Roy Scheider calling the Coast Guard. Laaaaaame.
Though on the flip side, a snake got peed on. Now THAT'S entertainment! I'll buy THAT fer a doller!!!
END SPOILERS
Anyway, I did have a good time. I'm impressed at how they kept those snakes under control. Pretty amazing job of snake-wrangling.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Give It Up For KG... Give It Up For ME!!!
Monday, August 14, 2006
OMFG, My Finger!!!
This demonstration of a finger-safe table saw is jaw-dropping. Totally legit. The blade detects the electrical currents in your finger, and drops from the table near-instantaneously, thus saving you from a life of misery. Coolest thing I've seen in a while.
Of course, if you read the article you'll see that the tool industry really lived up to its name: they refused to adopt the technology until the government got involved. What a bunch of dickbags. As if people wouldn't pay more for a saw that removes the #1 source of danger involved. I wonder how many fingers have been detached from hands since the product's initial demonstration in 2000. (Probably enough to feed all the Sox fans at Fenway this weekend!)
Of course, if you read the article you'll see that the tool industry really lived up to its name: they refused to adopt the technology until the government got involved. What a bunch of dickbags. As if people wouldn't pay more for a saw that removes the #1 source of danger involved. I wonder how many fingers have been detached from hands since the product's initial demonstration in 2000. (Probably enough to feed all the Sox fans at Fenway this weekend!)
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Decision 2006
This week I have decided a few things. Because I'm the decider. Not you. Me.
* If we give James Blunt to Hezbollah, and allow them to do whatever they want to him, will that end the war? Is he what all this fighting's about?
* Cinderella Man was almost a great movie. I enjoyed it immensely, way more than I thought I would. I came out of it giving Ron Howard, one of my least favorite directors, a great deal of credit for the incredible job he did. But then I read up on the "bad guy" of the movie, Max Baer. He was portrayed as little more than a womanizing, arrogant (unbelievably so), and proudly murderous fiend. Very little of that is true; in fact, Baer was more of a clown than anything. Howard made a big deal out of the fact that Baer killed two men (one indirectly) in the ring, and conveniently made Baer's character a guy who relished that power.
* Cansei de Ser Sexy is being hyped up an awful lot, but rightfully so. They tap into the broken-English-girl-band-run-by-men territory that The Go! Team recently made successful. I'm sold, albeit w/ reservations about the "obsession with sex" that their female vocalists have. I feel like I'm 13 again, being scandalized by "Sir Psycho Sexy" and tittering in a corner. But good God are they fun. Who wouldn't want to listen to Brazilian women boasting about how sexually active they are? The music's pretty fun too.
(As an aside, CSS just played the Pitchfork Festival. You may remember Pitchfork from such declarations as "most of !!!'s audience has come to accept Nic Offer's generally asinine lyrics as an inherent part of the group's unique dynamic." [Nick Sylvester, 6/8/04] That's right, because Pitchfork would never champion or promote an artist whose lyrics are asinine. !!! sure stands in sharp relief next to CSS' Proustian tribute to the restoration of the life spirit and the delicacy of human existence, as found in their song "Artbitch":
* Also found in my car stereo recently is lo-fi-bande-de-l'année Tapes n' Tapes. Pretty good. Not great, but good enough to grow on a guy. And good enough to justify their "your blog made my band overrated" fame. The Loon is pretty creative, given the low-budget constraints. I see them kicking some ass in the future... unlike certain other lo-fi bands. (Hype Your Band Say Yeah!)
* Big, big props to Robert Randolph and the Family Band for cheering me up all week. Check out Live At The Wetlands if you want the inside of your brain to burn down with joy. Or check out their Austin City Limits appearance on PBS. I now believe that Congress should pass a law banning all religious ceremonies held in the absence of the Sacred Steel. (Separation of church and what now?)
* I wonder if anyone's made a t-shirt yet with Mel Gibson's unkempt, bearded face, above his now-infamous complaint: "What Do You Think YOU'RE Looking At, Sugar Tits???" You know, cause it's the next big thing now. (In fact, that picture of him on TMZ might go nicely with a Photoshopped set of earlocks and a yarmulke. Shalom!)
* If we give James Blunt to Hezbollah, and allow them to do whatever they want to him, will that end the war? Is he what all this fighting's about?
* Cinderella Man was almost a great movie. I enjoyed it immensely, way more than I thought I would. I came out of it giving Ron Howard, one of my least favorite directors, a great deal of credit for the incredible job he did. But then I read up on the "bad guy" of the movie, Max Baer. He was portrayed as little more than a womanizing, arrogant (unbelievably so), and proudly murderous fiend. Very little of that is true; in fact, Baer was more of a clown than anything. Howard made a big deal out of the fact that Baer killed two men (one indirectly) in the ring, and conveniently made Baer's character a guy who relished that power.
* Cansei de Ser Sexy is being hyped up an awful lot, but rightfully so. They tap into the broken-English-girl-band-run-by-men territory that The Go! Team recently made successful. I'm sold, albeit w/ reservations about the "obsession with sex" that their female vocalists have. I feel like I'm 13 again, being scandalized by "Sir Psycho Sexy" and tittering in a corner. But good God are they fun. Who wouldn't want to listen to Brazilian women boasting about how sexually active they are? The music's pretty fun too.
(As an aside, CSS just played the Pitchfork Festival. You may remember Pitchfork from such declarations as "most of !!!'s audience has come to accept Nic Offer's generally asinine lyrics as an inherent part of the group's unique dynamic." [Nick Sylvester, 6/8/04] That's right, because Pitchfork would never champion or promote an artist whose lyrics are asinine. !!! sure stands in sharp relief next to CSS' Proustian tribute to the restoration of the life spirit and the delicacy of human existence, as found in their song "Artbitch":
Lick my art-titBra-fucking-vo! Leaves of Grass, my ass! So, putting that big jug o' drivel into a song is okay because... why? Because it's sung by sexy Brazilian ladies flaunting themselves? Well, never mind then! Who needs standards? Actually, on second thought, sexy Brazilian ladies... hmmm... maybe Pitchfork's onto something...)
Lick my art-tit
Suck my art-hole
Suck my art-hole
* Also found in my car stereo recently is lo-fi-bande-de-l'année Tapes n' Tapes. Pretty good. Not great, but good enough to grow on a guy. And good enough to justify their "your blog made my band overrated" fame. The Loon is pretty creative, given the low-budget constraints. I see them kicking some ass in the future... unlike certain other lo-fi bands. (Hype Your Band Say Yeah!)
* Big, big props to Robert Randolph and the Family Band for cheering me up all week. Check out Live At The Wetlands if you want the inside of your brain to burn down with joy. Or check out their Austin City Limits appearance on PBS. I now believe that Congress should pass a law banning all religious ceremonies held in the absence of the Sacred Steel. (Separation of church and what now?)
* I wonder if anyone's made a t-shirt yet with Mel Gibson's unkempt, bearded face, above his now-infamous complaint: "What Do You Think YOU'RE Looking At, Sugar Tits???" You know, cause it's the next big thing now. (In fact, that picture of him on TMZ might go nicely with a Photoshopped set of earlocks and a yarmulke. Shalom!)
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Skill Testing Questions
I'm back from Canada, bitches! (Don't all get up at once to welcome me back.) Good time, great food, great weather... it got up to a balmy 85 degrees at one point! But it's nice to go to America Jr. every once in a while, if only to underline the differences between American and Canadian cultures. Parallel populations, developing in only-somewhat-parallel manners. More on the trip at a later date (read: once I've forgotten about it).
Of the many differences I encountered last week, here's one I didn't come across. Apparently it's against the law in Canada to award contest prizes to someone who has won said contest without having performed some kind of "skill." Deadspin brought up a story of free golf clubs from Sports Illustrated not being distributed due to the requirement of a "skill testing question." Will assumed it was a gag, but it's not... it's the law. It has something to do with casinos and gambling, where you cannot win a prize without having The formality of a skill testing question is required on any sweepstakes or contest in which Canadian citizens participate.
What kills me is that the Canadian courts actually determined what constitutes sufficiently-tested "skill." Typically the question is a simple math problem, so the courts decided that the math problem has to have, at minimum, three operations in order to justify a prize. I guess figuring out "1263527653 mod 237647" or the square root of 12374612347861293874628374 isn't skillful, but "2 + (2 x 2) - 2" is.
Of the many differences I encountered last week, here's one I didn't come across. Apparently it's against the law in Canada to award contest prizes to someone who has won said contest without having performed some kind of "skill." Deadspin brought up a story of free golf clubs from Sports Illustrated not being distributed due to the requirement of a "skill testing question." Will assumed it was a gag, but it's not... it's the law. It has something to do with casinos and gambling, where you cannot win a prize without having The formality of a skill testing question is required on any sweepstakes or contest in which Canadian citizens participate.
What kills me is that the Canadian courts actually determined what constitutes sufficiently-tested "skill." Typically the question is a simple math problem, so the courts decided that the math problem has to have, at minimum, three operations in order to justify a prize. I guess figuring out "1263527653 mod 237647" or the square root of 12374612347861293874628374 isn't skillful, but "2 + (2 x 2) - 2" is.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Slow News Month For Minutiae
I've been real busy, and I'm going to be even busier over the next month or so. You're probably not going to hear much from me until late July, on account of a series of small vacations. I'll do my best. Anyway, here's what I think about movies and music of late
NachOOOOOOOOOOOO
What a weird movie. You can tell it comes from the Napoleon Dynamite people; Jared Hess has an unmistakable style, love it or hate it. In this case, I knew what I was in for (unlike ND, which took some getting used to) and ate it up right away. They had me from the moment Jack Black snarfed his beans. What's weirdest about it is that there's absolutely no story, and no real development of said non-story... yet the conclusion moved me. You're gonna see the movie and be like "are you fucking kidding? You got emotional while watching THAT?!?" But I was. Hey, I'm as stumped as you are. I ate some dirt... I ate some grass... I used some leaves... to wipe my tears...
X-Men III
Passable, but devoid of heart and charm. Everyone's going through the motions. Definitely the least essential of the series, despite having so much potential with Angel, Beast, Juggernaut and company. When the "surprise" twists are the highlight of the movie, you have problems. Not much more to say than that.
Spoon - Kill the Moonlight
Excellent stuff. I'm glad I get to go back through their older albums, slowly but surely, and appreciate their attention to detail even more. Makes me all the more disappointing that they're not famous, because they're so good at what they do. It's not even that challenging, really... no more than, say, Cracker. And Cracker was famous.
Sufjan Stevens - The Avalanche
I like it, but like any "collection" (as opposed to "album") it suffers from a lack of flow and inconsistency, and hasn't got anything to offer people who haven't chugged the Sufjan Kool-Aid yet. It's a lot more hit-and-miss than Sufjan's proper albums; I'm glad the majority of this stuff wasn't released on Come On Feel The Illinoise. But even Bad Sufjan is worth a listen at this point. It's stunning to think that he can have such depth of composition on the toss-aside crap he never releases.
Snow Patrol - Eyes Open (redux)
OK, fine. I still believe it's not an essential album, not in the same universe as Final Straw (obviously), and not complex or deep by any stretch of the imagination. I still maintain that any number of bands could have made this exact same album and it would have been just fine. But it's not as bad as I made it out to be. I'm kind of partial to the next-to-last track, as it builds momentum and finally lets it loose. I like it. It's fine. It just doesn't have that special thing that makes it important in and of itself... you still have to reach back and be like "well I liked Final Straw and I like the band, so I'll like this." No thanks. If I lay here... if I just lay here... will you lay with me and... listen to Final Straw instead?
NachOOOOOOOOOOOO
What a weird movie. You can tell it comes from the Napoleon Dynamite people; Jared Hess has an unmistakable style, love it or hate it. In this case, I knew what I was in for (unlike ND, which took some getting used to) and ate it up right away. They had me from the moment Jack Black snarfed his beans. What's weirdest about it is that there's absolutely no story, and no real development of said non-story... yet the conclusion moved me. You're gonna see the movie and be like "are you fucking kidding? You got emotional while watching THAT?!?" But I was. Hey, I'm as stumped as you are. I ate some dirt... I ate some grass... I used some leaves... to wipe my tears...
X-Men III
Passable, but devoid of heart and charm. Everyone's going through the motions. Definitely the least essential of the series, despite having so much potential with Angel, Beast, Juggernaut and company. When the "surprise" twists are the highlight of the movie, you have problems. Not much more to say than that.
Spoon - Kill the Moonlight
Excellent stuff. I'm glad I get to go back through their older albums, slowly but surely, and appreciate their attention to detail even more. Makes me all the more disappointing that they're not famous, because they're so good at what they do. It's not even that challenging, really... no more than, say, Cracker. And Cracker was famous.
Sufjan Stevens - The Avalanche
I like it, but like any "collection" (as opposed to "album") it suffers from a lack of flow and inconsistency, and hasn't got anything to offer people who haven't chugged the Sufjan Kool-Aid yet. It's a lot more hit-and-miss than Sufjan's proper albums; I'm glad the majority of this stuff wasn't released on Come On Feel The Illinoise. But even Bad Sufjan is worth a listen at this point. It's stunning to think that he can have such depth of composition on the toss-aside crap he never releases.
Snow Patrol - Eyes Open (redux)
OK, fine. I still believe it's not an essential album, not in the same universe as Final Straw (obviously), and not complex or deep by any stretch of the imagination. I still maintain that any number of bands could have made this exact same album and it would have been just fine. But it's not as bad as I made it out to be. I'm kind of partial to the next-to-last track, as it builds momentum and finally lets it loose. I like it. It's fine. It just doesn't have that special thing that makes it important in and of itself... you still have to reach back and be like "well I liked Final Straw and I like the band, so I'll like this." No thanks. If I lay here... if I just lay here... will you lay with me and... listen to Final Straw instead?
Thursday, June 15, 2006
What Tha Heck Is A "RIM JOAB"?!?
Remember the struggle between the MPAA and South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone over the rating of South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut? How they argued over how many half-seconds of Saddam Hussein's fake animated penis could be shown in an R-rated movie, and other such issues? This memo summarizes the ridiculousness pretty nicely. Parker and Stone are already American heroes for making those people analyze their stupid dick-and-fart movie frame-by-frame, but Stone gets a lifetime pass to the Doucette Executive Washroom for his postscript.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Take Off, Eh!
The good news: Americans haven't cornered the market on assholes. The bad news: America Jr. is the inspiration for the previous statement. I dare you to witness this shameful act and not get pissed off. I really hope General Motors is using the Hummer line to spy on the North American asshole community, and that a big, big bust, complete with capital punishment, is coming. Oh, pleeeeease...
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
The Da Vinci Choad
Based on the early returns from critics, my plan to see the movie of The Da Vinci Code instead of reading the novel has backfired. So I broke down and read the book. Diagnosis: sufficient. The book I'm currently reading (Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson) does a better job of weaving a fictitious interpretation of religious history, but DVC stands out as compared to other commuter-rail novels in its ambitions and its intellectual subject matter. So, despite my reservations, I give it its due.
Anyway, I'll break my opinion up to this point into the good (Pork) and the bad (Beef). Bad news first, because my feelings on the book are best summarized by this sentence: "it sucked, but it was still pretty OK."
BEEF
1) I really hate the potboiler genre's ridiculous emphasis on one- and two-page chapters. "Mommy, I wrote a chapter today!" It's like when I'd pump my high school history essays up to the 14-point font, so I could fill a page faster than 12-point type would have. Just as I artificially created a full two pages, Brown artificially creates suspense in the reading process without actually having as much suspense in the story.*
2) Brown's flashes of "Style!" really piss me off. Boy, was I surprised to find out that Sophie has a mysterious past. No kidding! For someone who came up with some really convoluted codes and conspiracy theories, his character development is awfully transparent.
3) Also, those revelations are just unendingly self-congratulatory. Does every chapter have to end with a cliffhanger? Someone has a mysterious revelation, but he/she doesn't feel like sharing until after a chapter break? Gee, you made me wade through a whole two-paragraph chapter before revealing your secrets. Dan Brown, you are a magnificent bastard!
4) Okay, you know what? If you want to write short chapters, so you can things keep moving along, artificially manufacture some suspense, and juggle the interweaving storylines, knock yourself out. I give you permission to write two chapters per page. I'll deal. But don't number them. Sweet phenomenal Christ, that drives me apeshit. You're basically admitting that your readers have too short an attention span to read three actual chapters... but you want them to feel good about having read three chapters anyway. "Hey, it's Chapter 112! Dan Brown sure packs a lot of chapters into eighty pages."
5) Do people still say "what the devil?" in conversation? How can a novel that takes place in the era of cell phones actually have that expression as serious dialogue? What's next? Is Robert Langdon gonna say "oh, fiddlesticks!" in the next book? There's only two groups of people who should be licensed to say "what the devil?" without it being tongue-in-cheek: barbershop quartet singers and Civil War reenactors. Langdon's not on either list.
6) Robert Langdon is as boring a franchise hero as you could ever imagine. Aren't characters supposed to have traits? I cannot describe Langdon beyond his vocation ("symbology" professor). Langdon is the literary equivalent of Textured Vegetable Protein... he contains all the nutritional requirements to be a hero-like substance, but he has absolutely no taste. Water is flavorful and zesty compared to Robert Langdon. Although, in his defense, he does say "what the devil?" a lot. That's kinda like character development, right?
PORK
Despite all that beef, I did enjoy reading the book. In a sea of diarrheal thrillers, it at least has some fiber.
1) It helps when the author actually has a message to send, and has done his research. I know nothing about art history, but his narrator does speak from a position of authority. He may not have been entirely accurate, as Wikipedia tells us, but he was certainly convincing. In a book where the subject matter is so much more interesting than the goings on, it's easy to get sucked in.
2) You have to respect the heaping helping of subversive, anti-establishment, intellectual discourse that has been dumped on the doorstep of the common potboiler reader. Anything that pisses off the Catholic church so much has got to be good... there's no greater endorsement than the Catholics denouncing you as a heretic.
* - I suspect this will come up when I see the film. But to speculate is unfair to everyone, so forget I said that. But not really... cause I didn't remove that sentence! Wink wink!
Anyway, I'll break my opinion up to this point into the good (Pork) and the bad (Beef). Bad news first, because my feelings on the book are best summarized by this sentence: "it sucked, but it was still pretty OK."
BEEF
1) I really hate the potboiler genre's ridiculous emphasis on one- and two-page chapters. "Mommy, I wrote a chapter today!" It's like when I'd pump my high school history essays up to the 14-point font, so I could fill a page faster than 12-point type would have. Just as I artificially created a full two pages, Brown artificially creates suspense in the reading process without actually having as much suspense in the story.*
2) Brown's flashes of "Style!" really piss me off. Boy, was I surprised to find out that Sophie has a mysterious past. No kidding! For someone who came up with some really convoluted codes and conspiracy theories, his character development is awfully transparent.
3) Also, those revelations are just unendingly self-congratulatory. Does every chapter have to end with a cliffhanger? Someone has a mysterious revelation, but he/she doesn't feel like sharing until after a chapter break? Gee, you made me wade through a whole two-paragraph chapter before revealing your secrets. Dan Brown, you are a magnificent bastard!
4) Okay, you know what? If you want to write short chapters, so you can things keep moving along, artificially manufacture some suspense, and juggle the interweaving storylines, knock yourself out. I give you permission to write two chapters per page. I'll deal. But don't number them. Sweet phenomenal Christ, that drives me apeshit. You're basically admitting that your readers have too short an attention span to read three actual chapters... but you want them to feel good about having read three chapters anyway. "Hey, it's Chapter 112! Dan Brown sure packs a lot of chapters into eighty pages."
5) Do people still say "what the devil?" in conversation? How can a novel that takes place in the era of cell phones actually have that expression as serious dialogue? What's next? Is Robert Langdon gonna say "oh, fiddlesticks!" in the next book? There's only two groups of people who should be licensed to say "what the devil?" without it being tongue-in-cheek: barbershop quartet singers and Civil War reenactors. Langdon's not on either list.
6) Robert Langdon is as boring a franchise hero as you could ever imagine. Aren't characters supposed to have traits? I cannot describe Langdon beyond his vocation ("symbology" professor). Langdon is the literary equivalent of Textured Vegetable Protein... he contains all the nutritional requirements to be a hero-like substance, but he has absolutely no taste. Water is flavorful and zesty compared to Robert Langdon. Although, in his defense, he does say "what the devil?" a lot. That's kinda like character development, right?
PORK
Despite all that beef, I did enjoy reading the book. In a sea of diarrheal thrillers, it at least has some fiber.
1) It helps when the author actually has a message to send, and has done his research. I know nothing about art history, but his narrator does speak from a position of authority. He may not have been entirely accurate, as Wikipedia tells us, but he was certainly convincing. In a book where the subject matter is so much more interesting than the goings on, it's easy to get sucked in.
2) You have to respect the heaping helping of subversive, anti-establishment, intellectual discourse that has been dumped on the doorstep of the common potboiler reader. Anything that pisses off the Catholic church so much has got to be good... there's no greater endorsement than the Catholics denouncing you as a heretic.
* - I suspect this will come up when I see the film. But to speculate is unfair to everyone, so forget I said that. But not really... cause I didn't remove that sentence! Wink wink!
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