The New Yorker is never, ever wrong. If you think you’ve seen a typo in The New Yorker, YOU DIDN”T. That word was either spelled that way all along or will from now on be spelled that way – forever. Also, there are never any incorrect facts in The New Yorker. Because of this badass publication’s divine truthiness, authors who get a chilly book review from one of their writers should pretty much just tear their own fingers off with whatever sharp pieces they can extract from what used to be their laptop. According to The New Yorker, The Da Vinci Code is: “Dan Brown’s best-selling primer on how not to write an English sentence”. Ouch.
I have only three questions for Dan Brown:
1. CAN YOU BLAME THEM?
2. WHAT THE FUCK WAS YOUR EDITOR SMOKING?
3. May I have some?
Point in fact – here’s my favorite sentence from The Da Vinci Code:
“My French stinks, Langdon thought, but my zodiac iconography is pretty good.” Indeed, obvious wish-fulfillment-stand-in for Dan Brown. Indeed. I can’t be the only one bothered by the fact that his novels are all identical on a lot of points. Like, ever notice how the female love interest *always* fits the description “stunning, dark-haired scientist with daddy issues”?
While plenty of Dan Brown extracts are pure grammar Nazi gold, The Telegraph published a brilliant article underlining what is decidedly the most retarded thing about The Da Vinci Code: THE FUCKING TITLE. “Da Vinci” wasn’t Leonardo’s last name. It simply denotes the fact that he was from Vinci. As The Telegraph points out, “…calling it The Da Vinci Code is like saying Mr Of Arabia or asking What Would Of Nazareth Do?” I mean, shit. How on earth did that get past the editors? (I don’t put it past Dan Brown, though. At all).
Fortunately for Dan Brown, (Mr. Of New Hampshire?) his most fervent fans aren’t exactly the type who read The New Yorker. Or The Telegraph. Or anything that isn’t written in large type, accompanied by illustrations, really.
Easy on the acid, editors. Although in this case, I think you deserve a little escape from reality.
Love the blog! Do you have these in a podcast?
Glad to hear it! At the moment – no.
Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou. More, please.
I like pointing out what a hack the first sentence is, referring to “world-famous curator Jacques Sauniere.” A world-famous what? That’s like saying “world-famous pipe fitter,” or “world-famous copyeditor.” How many curators can you even name, let alone world-famous ones?
My thoughts exactly.
Yep – it’s dumb. And an omen for the next ten thousand sentences.
Complaining about the title seems like a waste of time. When people think of Leonardo da Vinci, very rarely do they call him “Leonardo.” He is commonly referred to as “da Vinci” because he is the most famous person ever with “da Vinci” in his name.
If there was a guy named Alfonso da Vinci who was equally as important and influential as Leonardo, then I see where the use of “da Vinci” would be confusing.
And besides, in the publishing world, where it’s all about book sales, who would dare market a book entitled “The Leonardo Code”? It sounds like some crappy childrens’ novel with zero plot or substance.