The Conspiracy Fiction Genre Grows
Anjanette Rodgers
As a bookseller, there are several obstacles I confront on a daily basis. These are the top three:
1. Oprah. The woman could sell ice to Eskimos. Even more impressive, she's managed to sell Faulkner and Tolstoy to a nation full of TV-watching texters. There's already a young adult series with text-inspired titles: L8r, G8r ; TTFN , and TTYL . The worst thing a bookseller can hear is that Oprah has endorsed something you just sold out of. Her soul must be the crown jewel in Satan's collection.
2. That customer. This will send a bookseller to the depths of despair. The customer comes in and requests "that book that's really, really popular right now. I don't remember the author, or the title, or what it's about, but I remember seeing it on one of the tables at the front of the store. Oh, and it's blue, if that helps." I'm not lying; that is a question I get about once a month. Next time you're in a bookstore, count the number of blue books you see. Then take out your camera phone and make a bookseller's day by taking a photo of the books you're interested in buying later.
3. Dan Brown. Right alongside Oprah's soul in the display case of the damned, you'll find this guy. I have no idea why The Da Vinci Code was such a phenomenon. I read it, quickly got bored, flipped to the end, and didn't need to finish it. The novel spent years on the bestseller list. His next book is apparently called The Solomon Key . It hasn't been released yet - in fact, although Brown's been writing it for years, there's no confirmed release date, although there already is a guidebook to it. However, every now and then, someone will come in and insist it's been released and want a copy.
The worst thing about Dan Brown is that in the absence of his next novel, a new genre has developed around his work. The novel I chose to read this month, The Book of Unholy Mischief by Elle Newmark , is Da Vinci -esque. Had I known that, I might have skipped it.
It's about wily street urchin Luciano, who is rescued from Renaissance Venice's canals by the doge's personal chef. He's put to work as an apprentice, but his skills as a spy are soon utilized as he glimpses the syphilitic doge poison a peasant, then pour a liquid into the dead man's mouth. The doge is searching for an immortality potion, one that would be contained in a mysterious book of magic spells and alchemical recipes. Rewards are offered by the doge, the Council of Ten (the real power brokers of Venice, kind of like Opus Dei), even the pope. We soon find out that Luciano's maestro is more than just a chef - he is one person in a long line of Guardians, this book's Priory of Sion, devoted to humanism and Gnosticism, preserving their tenets and the apocryphal gospels within recipes - and the book everyone is searching for is right on the chef's shelves.
I'll admit, it bothers me a little to read subject matter that is against my own beliefs. However, in this novel, it's more of a minor annoyance, like that fly in your bedroom at night, rather than something that has colored my opinion of the book. Had I been more strongly opposed to the philosophy in the novel, I wouldn't have finished it. I felt that the parts of the novel where Chef Ferrero tries to instruct Luciano in the ways of the Guardians are the parts of the novel that just don't really work. When the action is focused on the intrigues to discover the book, or on the fabulous meals created by the chef and the extraordinary effects they have on the diners, or on Venice itself, this novel is fantastic. The descriptions are rich and lush - you can almost sense the surroundings in which the characters exist. When the chef begins his instructions, the action vanishes into dialogue and you are pulled forcefully from this very enjoyable book into a dry philosophy lesson. It's as if the gondolier ran up against the side of the canal. It jolts you out of the extremely enjoyable atmosphere the author's worked so hard to create, slowing down the action. What kept me reading the novel, the thing that pulled me through the molasses-slow preachy parts, was the anticipation of the vibrancy throughout the rest of the book. The fact that it's the author forcibly removing you from her own delicious descriptions is disappointing.
If you loved The Da Vinci Code , you'll probably like this book. But be warned - I think there are much better examples of this genre to be found. If you simply can't wait for Dan Brown's next book, you have nothing else to lose.
