You've all no doubt have heard that Margaret Atwood, highly-honored author of such literary masterworks as The Handmaid's Tale, The Blind Assassin, and Oryx and Crake, has a new novel out called The Year of the Flood...right? You've also heard that Joyce Carol Oates, prolific super-author of such literary masterworks as Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? and We Were the Mulvaneys, has a new novel called Little Bird of Heaven...right? You're all aware that Thomas Pynchon, reclusive superstar of postmodern fiction and the author of Gravity's Rainbow, has a new novel called Inherent Vice...right?
No?
Okay. You're all aware Dan Brown has a new novel called The Lost Symbol, his follow-up to his phenomenally successful The DaVinci Code, right? Of course you know this. You can't go anywhere without reading about how expectations are high for Brown's new novel, and you've seen him interviewed on everything from The Today Show to Funny Car Weekly. And, most tellingly, The Lost Symbol sold an astonishing 2 million copies in the first week of its' release.
2 million copies sold is pretty impressive when you consider what an astonishingly bad writer Dan Brown truly is. The consensus among the literary snobberati and casual readers is works like The DaVinci Code and Angels and Demons are spurred on by a decent story (conspiracies abound!), but buried under an avalanche of utterly clumsy writing. I won't go into the gory details that make up Brown's writing; instead, I'll leave it to the good folks at the Daily Telegraph to reveal Dan Brown's 20 worst sentences.
Reading The DaVinci Code, I wondered, what editor wouldn't have been tempted to take a red pen all over his manuscript? Or, better yet, does Dan Brown have a clause in his contract that excludes him from any copy editors descerating his manuscripts? This sentence is my favorite awful Dan Brown sentence, one that, were I a copy editor, would correct:
The Da Vinci Code, chapter 32: The vehicle was easily the smallest car Langdon had ever seen. "SmartCar," she said. "A hundred kilometers to the liter."
"Easily the smallest car Langdon had ever seen"? How do we know that car was "easily?" Was there a previous mention to some of the smaller cars Langdon had ever seen? Take out the first sentence - "The vehicle was blah blah blah - and the sentence isn't weighed by exposition and adverb. But, since Brown seems to be paid by the word...
Criticizing Dan Brown's writing has become a cottage industry of sorts. The majority of people I've met who've read any of Brown's work all agree his writing sucks a wet one. Me, I have a way to gauge a bad novel; if it takes me about 2-3 days to read it without stopping to reflect on a passage or pause to think about what the writer is saying or where the story goes, then the novel really hasn't engaged me at all. The DaVinci Code was like that for me, something that took me 2 days to read in its' entirety and leaving me perplexed as to why so many millions of readers were actually reading this junk.
I would be tempted to be ultra critical of those who read and actual enjoy Dan Brown's work, just like people flock to see the mind-numbing mediocrity of Michael Bay's films, or swoon to the news of the return of Creed as a performing act. Clearly, the collected works of Brown, Bay and Creed represent something completely foreign to me or others who prefer their arts with more substance than the aforementioned trio are willing to provide. So what is it, then, that's driving readers to buy The Lost Symbol in such record numbers?
First, I think it's wise to break down the numbers posted: of the 2 million people who have purchased a copy each - and I'm assuming there are relatively few who've bought 20 copies of The Lost Symbol and are planning to give those as unwelcome gifts - let's say half of those are actually fans of Brown's work. Of the million remaining, let's say half of those are casual readers who don't mind The Lost Symbol taking up some of their time as a quick summer read. Of the 500,000 remaining, who knows? Maybe they're vociferous anti-Brownists who bought the book out of spite and are going to spend the next few weeks grinding their teeth and taking a red pen to every page in the book. Granted, my numerical analysis makes little sense to you, and even to me, but it's helping me try to understand Dan Brown's success.
But in order to truly understand the extraordinary success of Dan Brown's literary output, it helps to realize that Dan Brown's novels are a sign of our times. In this day and age when so many of us are consumed with thoughts of nefarious conspiracies in place - the Bildebergs, the Illuminate, Opus Dei, the faked Lunar Landing, 9/11 Was An Inside Job, Obama is a Muslim Nazi Communist, etc. - Brown's captured the collective zeitgeist and crafted novels that both entertain and look into our conspiratorial fears. I'm reminded of the success Tom Clancy enjoyed a decade or two ago. Clancy, another writer who brained you to death with his encyclopedic knowledge of the minutae of Soviet-era nuclear submarines but couldn't fashion two coherent sentences together, played brilliantly upon our fears of constantly being on the brink of war with the Soviets. When the Cold War came to an end, Clancy quickly shifted those fears to other not-so-imagined enemies - terrorists, drug cartels and global criminal organizations. Again, like Brown, Clancy's novels served to entertain. Could either author's output be deemed worthy of the utmost critical respect? Hell no. Both Clancy and Brown mastered the art of butchering the written word while making millions.
And if you'll read some of the more positive reviews of The Lost Symbol or any of Dan Brown's previous works, the positive reviewers don't seem to mind the bad writing, as long as there's more conspiracies to read about. So maybe 2 million book buyers can't be wrong, can they?
I don't know. The truth is, I'm ambivalent about Brown's books themselves. They're crap, let's just leave it at that. If my neighbors prefer to read The Lost Symbol to Thomas Pynchon's newest novel, so be it. The people have spoken, just like when they spoke about Ruben Studdard or George W. Bush, and there's not a damned thing any of us can do about it. And there's not a damned thing you and I can do about Dan Brown's success.
That doesn't mean, however, that I'm not resentful as fuck about Dan Brown or his success. He can shrug his shoulders or smugly suggest that all he does is write books people like, but the fact that he writes as if he couldn't be bothered with the basics of grammar and the proper basics of fiction writing irk the living shit out of me to no end. I've gone through one writing class after another. I wrote a 350+ page manuscript that, thankfully, will never see the light of day (as I set fire to it one day in a massive fit of anger) as long as I live. I've subscribed to literary journals and paid attention to the rhythm and cadences of every writer I've read. But if Dan Brown can't be bothered to write one fucking decent sentence, then I can't be fucking bothered to give Brown any respect, no less be bothered with reading the idiotic conspiracy yarns he spins.


Salon.com
Comments
Something Dan Brown has NEVER had the honor of achieving.
Suck on that, Mr. Brown!
Frankly, i don't see anything wrong with that. intellectually, I'm probably up to the challenge of reading most of the literary fiction out there, but quite honestly most of it is slow and boring.
Dan Brown outsells Thomas Pynchon for the same reason that Eminem outsells the New York Philharmonic . He creates a product for the masses, not for the elite.
And I don't see anything at all wrong with that. The dynamic that I see at work here is that intelligent people, who are smart enough to read literary fiction and enjoy and understand it, are frustrated by living in a society of "average" people that largely doesn't reward intelligence. And then, one of the ways in which that frustration and loathing expresses itself, is in criticizing the purveyors of mediocrity (Dan Brown) and also those who are the embodiment of it (celebrities, etc).
All well and good, or as Jimmy Buffett says in paraphrasing Mark Twain, "Be good and you will be lonely."
Burroughs said that every writer, everywhere, is currently writing the best work they can write. No one tries to write stupidly or badly, and no one knows what the next big hit will be. We can only look at a book and guess, with hindsight, what made it so popular or unpopular. And that's interesting, although it still doesn't help anyone to anticipate what will succeed next. (Look at Donna Tartt's success--both popular and literary.)
My guess is that Dan Brown's books make a lot of people feel smart. They are simply written, in simple language, but they invent conspiracies and wild complications that make people feel that they're figuring something out, when nothing they are reading is real or based on reality.
This is Dan Brown's gift. If he could write like William Burroughs, he probably would. Commercially successful authors all want critical appreciation, and critically acclaimed authors all want to make more money.
If you want to help ME make more money, read my book--Red Poppies: Tales of Envy and Revenge. It's pretty good.
Thanks for posting this. It was fun to read. I am rating it.
I am just underscoring the fact that what Brown achieved can't be consciously duplicated. If he tried too hard to make his new book like his previous ones just to make money, people would detect his lack of sincerity and the spell would be broken. I think his new book is like his previous ones because he loves what he is writing.
Look what happened to Thomas Harris when he gave in to the temptation to crack open Hannibal's story, for cash instead of satisfying his own need to write. Even his biggest fans hated it.
Or maybe it's not quite that simple after all?
With that being said, I won't put down people who read Brown's novels, or James Patterson or Danielle Steel. I'll only turn a deaf ear to those who say they'd rather read their stuff because "it's easy."
S.P., I agree with your assessment: if Brown could write like William S. Burroughs, he could, but, frankly, I doubt he's got it in him. I doubt he's even read Burroughs.
Norwonk, if there's one thing Brown may be responsible for, it's the legions of failed writers who've realized that all their hard work and their devotion to the craft of writing is pretty much been revealed as being all for naught. As one of those failed writers, I find myself frustrated that I can't even write like Brown, because I can't bring myself to doing so.
Berry, I disagree with your assessment: popular success does, and can, come with good writing. Take a very good idea, add excellent writing, and you have something like "Lost" or the Harry Potter novels. You don't have to sacrifice good writing for the sake of success.
At the top of the hill grew a great sacrificial pyre heaped with bitter disillusionments, sophomoric soliloquies and tired cliches. One by one, as the storm raged, they climbed the hill to toss their own petty antipathies onto the building pile.
Time progressed slowly punctuated only by the occasional bursts of dendritic lightning giving sight to the soggy dismal landscape below. Great guns of thunder boomed and echoed throughout the hills urging them and spurring them on to complete their task.
Finally the last villager crested the mound and tossed his encumbrance atop of the heap. The magister stepped forward in his great red coat gleaming with gold buttons and his tall black hat which glistened in the cold rain. He held forth his lantern and for a long moment surveyed the faces of the townspeople gathered before him encircling the great rise of surly suppositions. Almost imperceptibly each of them nodded as they came under his studious gaze.
When at last he had studied them all and was satisfied that the judgement was unanimous and complete, he reached into the pocket of his coat... and then into his other pocket... then into his back pocket... and his other back pocket... with a sudden visible twinge of alarm he looked up at the huddled crowd.
"Hey, does anybody have a match?"
;-p
It was the implausible and inconsistent plot (I mean really, the Holy Grail was Mary Magdalene's womb, but all she produced was a pretty run-of-the-mill woman who didn't seem to be devoted to helping the world in any way. I mean, she didn't even help out in oup kitchens)
The flat characters and the grating Woody Allen-ish trope of nothing special middle aged guy gets young, attractive women (who has one hell of a family tree.) Or, also the stereotyped set pieces in England and France that seemed to be taken straight from a book describing Hollywood's most cliche'd Englishman or Frenchman.
It is an interesting case in what sells books, though. A fast pace is obviously very, very important.