As promised, here is the third installment of the read-along series. Parts one and two can be found here. Because this book is 500 pages long, and I am now only 200 pages into my guide, I have started to condense some of the chapter summaries together into a more flowing narrative. I hope this will enhance your virtual Dan Brown experience!
Chapters 24-34
At the start of Chapter 24, HSRL has just figured out why he has been dragged to Washington. He flashes back to a meeting, many years before, when handsome Peter Solomon snuck up on him while he was swimming in the Harvard pool* and gave him a magic box of secrets. Even though it is creepily sealed in wax and has been delivered to him in the strangest way possible at the crack of dawn at a pool, and Peter Solomon is all “you are the only person in the world I trust with my magic box,” RL locks it away thinking it must be nothing.
Anyway, when HSRL got that weird phone call and fax this morning? He was asked to bring along the magic box! HSRL actually has it in his bag—the one in his hand! But he has somehow forgotten this for the first 100 pages, probably because of all the excitement.
Flashback over, HSRL snaps back to the present, where CIA chief Sato is standing there all, “Can you stop having long flashbacks in the middle of my case?” They figure out the weird message on the palm of the handequin corresponds to a room in the basement called SSB 13. Getting to the basement takes from chapters 27-35, because the basement is totally deep. Every time you think you have a handle on how deep this basement is, it gets deeper.
We also learn that this search will somehow involve the Masons’ magical pyramid of mysteries! HSRL keeps saying that the magic mason pyramid of mysteries is just a legend, but since it comes up about 39 times, you start to think it just might be true. We will wait and see.
Meantime, genius Trish Dunne has successfully completed a Google search, genius Peter Solomon has successfully sent a text on his iPhone, and genius bad guy has tricked genius Kathleen Solomon into letting him into her pod.
Chapter 35
Much is made of DB’s writing style. In particular, people cite his use of italicized “thought bubbles,” his page and a half long chapters, and his single sentence paragraphs.
The ones that divide up the action.
Like this.
To give you a feeling that something is happening.
Some people suggest that he does this because he is not a good writer, or because he assumes that his readers haven’t really gotten past the single-line, compacted story form usually used in elementary reading books. These people are wrong. What DB is actually doing . . . is writing poetry.
It took me a while to figure this out, but I see it clearly now. I feel that he is following in the tradition of William Carlos Williams, a critical American poet. Consider “The Red Wheelbarrow,” Williams’s most famous work.
so much depends upon
a red wheel barrow
glazed with rain water
beside the white chickens.
The language and the style are so simple. The lines are short, and so is the work as a whole. And yet, in those eight lines, sixteen words, you can find an entire world. Compare this to the end of Chapter 35—which you at first think is this noodley, pointless chapter about the arrangement of the Capitol Building’s basement—but then you are hit with the last four sentences:
“My God,” Anderson shouted. Everyone saw it and jumped back. Langdon stared in disbelief at the deepest recess of the chamber. To his horror, something was staring back.
Do you think that this has been chopped up by accident? Do you think this same effect could have been achieved in a single, flowing paragraph? Do you think it needs more detail?
Of course not.
These particular lines also strongly echo T. S. Elliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”:
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker. And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.
It’s uncanny how these two men could communicate such similar ideas in a similar form—and yet, DB manages to cleverly plant these moments in a considerably larger work. T. S. Elliot never wrote anything nearly as long as The Lost Symbol.
Think about that, English majors, before you judge. Just think about it.
Chapter 36
SSB 13 has been reached and it is a totally weird room. It is full of skulls and crap.
Chapter 37
I guess the one complaint I have about The Lost Symbol, if I have any at all, is that it seems like Mal’akh is seriously overworked. If there was a Union of Bad Guys, there is no way they would let him work this long and not have a break. He does everything bad in the book. Everything. No one helps him.
So far, he’s had to: call Kathleen Solomon and pretend to be Dr. Christopher Abaddon, hack off Peter Solomon’s hand, stash Peter Solomon, and lead HSRL on this treasure hunt . . . all at once. And he does this, mind you, while wearing full makeup and having to constantly change costumes and juggle cell phones and manage at least three different identities. Would have it been so much to ask to give him one henchman? Just one?
This is why I am annoyed by the fact that in Chapter 37, he has to corner Trish Dunne, get her access code out of her, and drown her in the tank of ethanol with the giant squid all by himself. That right there could have been the work of one henchperson. It’s not like extra characters cost money. I’m just saying.
Chapter 38
For many chapters now, HSRL has been saying, “Look, there is no magic pyramid, okay? How many times do I have to tell you? No magic pyramid!” And then they move back a curtain in SSB 13 and there is a hole in the wall and in that hole is a pyramid. CIA director and professional HSRL hater Sato is all lolz.
Chapter 39
They are still looking at the pyramid.
Chapter 40
Chapter 40 is ¾ of a page long. Kathleen Solomon calls the front desk to ask where Trish Dunne is, and the desk is all, “I thought she was with you.” Neither knows that Trish Dunne now sleeps with the squid.
Chapter 41
I decided not to read Chapter 41. I’m not sure why. I was just moved by the Reading Muse, which landed gently on my shoulder and whispered, “Skip to the end!” in my ear. I went right to the last sentence, which is:
“Grab the pyramid!” the man commanded. “Follow me!”
This is why Dan Brown is a great man.
Chapters 42-43
Okay, I glanced at chapter 41 just now and saw that someone breaks into the room and starts swinging around a femur and knocks over Sato. Femur fight!
This person is Warren Bellamy, the Architect of the Capitol. He has rescued HSRL from Sato, who is suddenly a very suspicious character. It is implied that she wants the pyramid for herself! Also, we learn that the pyramid is a map!
Chapter 44
Chapter 44 is probably my favorite chapter of the book so far, because in this page and a half, DB drops the mask and lets us know a little about his life. The scene takes place in the Manhattan office of New York editor** Jonas Faukman. HSRL calls Faukman’s office, begging for Kathleen’s phone number, and Faukman is all, “Where’s that book you promised me? Why aren’t you writing? What the hell is wrong with you?”
There is a ring of truth to this, reader, which I cannot deny. And I salute DB for including this last sentence, “Book publishing would be so much easier without the authors.”***
Chapter 45
HSRL calls Kathleen and is all, “The calls are coming from inside of your pod! Get out of your pod!” But Mal’akh has used the key card and is now in the pod! Have I mentioned that the pod is pitch-black, and you can only find your way around by walking on a strip of carpet, and if you step off the carpet, you step into the void? You should probably know that. So you can imagine how alarmed Kathleen is when someone pounces on her in the dark. Very alarmed!
Chapter 46
While Kathleen Solomon is fighting for her life in the pod of doom, HSRL and Warren Bellamy have gone to the Library of Congress. In DB books, there is always time to be civilized, even in the middle of a huge chase scene. HSRL lists statues, and ornaments, and every possible kind of marble.We are told of the library’s beauty, and how many people think it contains one of the most beautiful rooms in the whole world. In fact, we first learn this in the opening sentence . . . and then we learn it again a page and a half later when both men stop and comment on the fact, one out loud, and one to himself.
“Some say it’s the most striking room in Washington,” Bellamy said, ushering Langdon inside.
Maybe in the whole world, Langdon thought, as he stepped across the threshold.
Chapter 47
Mal’akh is still chasing Kathleen Solomon around the pitch-black pod. Once again proving himself to be the most resourceful character in the book, Mal’akh thinks up a way to find her in the dark—he strips off his clothes and throws them at her. I know you are probably thinking that does not sound like a good plan, but it actually works. You might have to read Chapter 47 to see for yourself, but it does. Then there is a chase scene outside, and Kathleen gets to her white Volvo, and Mal’akh—who never gives up—jumps on it and puts his hand through the window. Through the window. She still gets away, but points for effort!
Chapter 48
Don’t even worry about chapter 48.
Chapter 49-50
Back in the library, Bellamy is lecturing RL about pyramids, and ancient mysteries, and statues of Moses—and RL is actually getting annoyed by this. Oh ho ho! The worm has turned! Then there is a bunch of stuff with codes and ciphers and coded ciphers which I kind of skipped.
Back at the CIA, Sato is recovering from where she has been hit by a femur in the femur fight, and we see that she has her own nerd working on the cipher, because it has been photographed. How was that possible? Well, when RL went into the Capitol, he was carrying the magic box, and in the magic box was a magic pyramid, and on the magic pyramid there was magic writing. Apparently, the magic x-ray machine could pick this up.
And yes, this means there are two pyramids. One is nine inches tall and the other is made of gold. Oh, and in case any of you, like me, wondered when someone would finally bring up the magical Masonic pyramids found on the dollar bill? According to my notebook here, it happens on page 161.
END PART THREE PAGES COVERED: 101-200 PAGES LEFT TO GO: 309 CHAPTERS LEFT TO GO: 83
* Much is made of this swimming in the Harvard pool and DB really wants you to know that RL does it EVERY DAY. It’s like he is a merman.
** This is an honorary, city-wide title, like “Poet Laureate,” “Queen of Pop,” or “Mayor.”
*** It’s a nice sentiment, for sure. But then I thought about it and realized that it would sort of not be easier, because then the editors would have to write ALL the books, which is not only hard but that would MAKE them authors. Did DB mean to blow our minds with this paradox? Probably.
In today’s reading of The Lost Symbol, I’ve realized that I have to go a lot faster, or we are NEVER going to get through this. So here are the next 75 pages, taking us up to page 100, all read and commented on in real time. You can read part one of my guide here.
Chapter six
I have some issues with chapter six.
It starts off well enough. At the top of chapter six, HSRL’s car pulls up to the curb. HSRL’s main concern at this point is that he must run 400 yards, in the rain, in loafers. Never before or since has an action hero ever been so distraught about his casual footwear! My loafers! he despairs. My loafers!
Still, our beloafered hero manages to run the whole 400 yards to the Capitol Vistor’s Center. We are reminded that HSRL does not like enclosed spaces because he was once trapped down in a well. We are also reminded that HSRL always wears a Mickey Mouse watch given to him by his parents, because, as he helpfully tells the guy at security, “I wear it to remind me to slow down and take life less seriously.”
All to the good, right?
But then . . . he has a flashback, one that lasts pretty much the entire chapter. And this is where I start to get agitated. As RL looks around, he remembers a generalized classroom experience he had at Harvard. It forces me to come to one of two conclusions:
1. Harvard is not nearly as hard as people make it out to be. In which case, I totally could have gone there. Where did I go? The University of Delaware, home of the Fighting Blue Hens. I mean, it was fine, but it doesn’t have the same ring as Harvard.
2. There are two Harvards. One is for the people you typically think go to Harvard, like Bill Gates and my friend Robin Wasserman, and the other is Stupid Harvard. Stupid Harvard PAYS for real Harvard. This, I suspect, is what puts the H in HSRL’s name. The students in RL’s classes, as he remembers them, are the kind of people who have to use the plastic scissors. They annoy him by drawing all over their maps. They don’t know the meaning of any useful words. Witness this scene, as RL meets his new class and shows them a slide:
“How many of you recognize the building in this picture?”
“U.S. Capitol!” dozens of voices called out in unison. “Washington, D.C.!”
“Yes. There are nine million pounds of ironwork in that dome. An unparalleled feat of architectural ingenuity for the 1850s.”
“Awesome!” someone shouted.
Langdon rolled his eyes, wishing someone would ban that word.
He hates these idiots, even when they follow his lectures with a cult-like devotion:
“If you’re curious, you should take my mysticism course. Frankly, I don’t think you guys are emotionally prepared to hear the answer.”
“What?” the person shouted. “Try us!”
Langdon made a show of considering it and then shook his head, toying with them. “Sorry, I can’t do that. Some of you are only freshmen. I’m afraid it might blow your minds.”
“Tell us!” everyone shouted.
Oh, how he despises these awful, dimwitted creatures. How glad he is to be rid of them! Now he is in this fine, fine building full of fine things. He runs to the hall where he has to speak. Run, loafer man, run! And then he gets there . . . and . . .
Wait. Something is wrong!
Chapter seven
If you have ever wanted an entire book of people going into buildings, look no further, because this is it. In chapter seven, Katheleen Solomon goes into one of the Smithsonian storage buildings. Is it as cool as going into the Capitol Visitors’ Center? You BET it is.
Chapter eight
The one thing HSRL has failed to notice as he has been remembering and running is that there is absolutely no one around. So when he winds up on a stage facing absolutely no one—just a dark, empty room—you start to think that maybe Stupid Harvard is where he belongs.
Or so suggests the person who calls him on the phone at that moment and cackles that he has gotten HSRL to do his evil bidding! He has summonded HSRL, tricking him into calling 202-329-5746. *crack of lightening*
Chapter nine
Chapter nine starts off . . . well, exactly where chapter eight left off. HSRL is still standing on the empty stage, holding the phone. I guess it is expected that a page and a half of that kind of excitement is all we can reasonably be expected to handle.
Anyway, this lunatic on the phone is rambling about how he has brought Robert Langdon here to do his bidding, and if he wants to save Peter Solomon’s soul, he had better comply! At first, HSRL thinks this is yet another symbology groupie, but then, there is a scream!
Chapter ten
Chapter ten gives us a wonderful word that I plan on using in conversation as much as possible: handequin. It’s a mannequin . . . of a hand! How have I never heard this word before? And why is my first thought that instead of Harlequin romances, we should have Handequin romances, which would be torrid love stories that revolve around or otherwise involve fake human hands!
Oh, and the reason this is mentioned is because there is an actual, severed human hand on the floor. It has been mounted on a stand and decorated in tattoos and it belongs to Peter Solomon.
Handequin!
Chapter eleven
In chapter eleven, Katherine Solomon tries to call her brother and he doesn’t pick up. Presumably, she doesn’t know that his awesome (sorry HSRL) severed hand is causing all kinds of excitement at the Capitol Building.
Also, we learn that three years ago, as a gift, Peter Solomon gave her a football field-sized, sterile, Hydrogen fuel cell-powered pod in the Smithsonian. It’s called Pod 5.
You just know that was the year she decided to just keep it simple at Christmas and just get him a tie and some books, and then he turned around gave her this thing that you can keep a fleet of planes in. I bet on one hand she was really appriciatative, and on the other, that she really just wanted to punch him in the jeans.
Chapter twelve
We meet Captiol police chief Trent Anderson, who is only slightly more functional than RL’s much-hated students back at Stupid Harvard. He manages to actually find and question the man who is responsible for the severed hand and is tricked by the “they went thataway” ploy. Meanwhile, the man escapes out the back door, takes off his wig and laughs. Can you blame him? Can you?
And we see it’s our old friend Mal’akh! Good for you, Mal’akh! You know who he reminds me of? Emperor Ming. Does that mean that HSRL is Flash Gordon, and instead of saving us by zooming in on a flying treadmill, he will come on his magic loafers? Maybe!
Chapter thirteen
HSRL has figured out that the severed hand represents The Hand of the Mysteries, which is a super-secret invitation to something super-secret. Also, you’re just supposed to DRAW it, not actually give someone a severed hand. He tries to tell someone that it is Peter Solomon’s hand, but resident incompetent Trent Anderson and his band of morons are making everyone’s life difficult, so you know we aren’t going to get anywhere for a while.
Here is a video I think will give you the basic idea of what Trent Anderson is like. For some reason, it’s in German, but I feel this actually adds to the experience. I just watched it three times.
Chapter fourteen
Mal’akh drives off in his limo, thinking about his own superiority and how he will soon rule everyone! I think I was right about this Ming thing.
Chapter fifteen
Page 55. This is not good. I should be further than this. We press on. Quick summary: Katherine is in her Pod. We find out more about her kooky, “you are the spoon” science. So concerned is DB that we get this that he even includes research quotes, book titles, and websites in her thought bubble.
We see a flashback of her talking to her brother Peter, which only serves to confirm my theories about her feelings toward him. She comes home from Yale, where she studies physics, and he makes her stand in the library and list everything she’s read, but whatever she says, it isn’t good enough. Everything she thinks is new has been done before. Entanglement theory? Well, just read the Tao Te Ching! Superstring theory? Well, that was covered in the 13th Century in Don’t Mess with the Zohan!*
Oh you think you know things, he schools her, but you know nothing! Nothing!
Ho, ho, say I. Where are you now, Mr. Peter Solomon? You’re a hand on a stand!
Chapter sixteen
Speaking of hands, Captiol police chief Trent Anderson clearly couldn’t find his ass with both of his own. But that doesn’t matter, because CIA chief Inoue Sato is on the phone . . . and wants to speak to HSRL! The CIA knows he is in the building! THEY KNOW EVERYTHING!
The phone is passed over, and Sato proceeds to grill RL relentlessly until RL has to pretend that they have a bad connection because he is so flustered. But it’s no good, because during the conversation, Sato has actually SNUCK UP BEHIND HIM!
Chapter seventeen
And guess what? Sato is a woman! Bet you weren’t expecting THAT! Not just a woman, but a tiny, wizended, mustachoed woman. Aside from the mustache, she appears to be a dead ringer for Gollum.
CIA Chief Inoue Sato
Chapter eighteen
Back in The Pod, we meet Trish Dunne, Katherine’s mad genius assistant. We find out that both Trish and Kathleen share the same debilitating condition—namely, they must explain everything they are thinking, out loud, to people who clearly know these things already.** They both have a terrible attack of this condition, with Kathleen explaining the entire nature of her work, and Trish explaining in excruciating detail the process by which she will create a search program called a delegator. It is a sad and lonely world in which they live.
Chapter nineteen
It is impossible for me to express just how much Sato hates HSRL. She oozes disgust. She cuts him off at every opportunity. She doesn’t even want to hear his lecture on Ancient Mysteries. She is small and full of rage.
Chapter twenty
Is again the same scene, with Sato hating RL even more because he will just not shut up about his Ancient Mysteries. He tries to lure her in by telling her that the Capitol is based on the Temple of Vesta in Rome, but she just doesn’t care. He finally gets her, however, when he tells her there is a painting of George Washington being depicted as a god . . . and, he points, it is RIGHT OVER HER HEAD!***
Chapter twenty-one
Even mustache-faced Sato can’t resist the lure of HSRL’s pointy ways.
We find out that the Founding Fathers were massively crazy and did all kinds of cool stuff that no one ever tells us about. Like, for instance, paint 4,664 square foot frescos of George Washington turning into a god on the ceiling of the Capitol. HSRL explains that whoever has done this dasterly deed believes that this painting somehow leads to a magical portal.
In his one moment of usefulness, Capitol police chief Trent Anderson says that there is an actual, secret door up there that pretty much no one knows about . . . but everyone just ignores him because HSRL has revealed that there used to be a statue of a half-naked George Washington standing RIGHT HERE, pointing at the ceiling in the SAME EXACT WAY, but they took it away because it was too freaky. He is so smug about this knowledge that he actually makes her Google it on her blackberry. Here it is:
He’s winning her over. You can feel it.
Chapter twenty-two
Katherine gets a call from Peter’s doctor. You find out that Peter was seeing a psychiatrist. The doctor invites Katherine over. It’s Mal’akh! In makeup! Oh, Mal’akh, whatever are you up to!
Chapter twenty three
HSRL is sure that Peter’s handequin has been tattooed on the palm. Sure enough, it has been! RL thinks the tattoo is a bunch of runes. You find out that his expertise “only extended to the most elementary runic alphabet—Futhark—a third-century Teutonic system.” No wonder they make him teach at Stupid Harvard. Somehow, in all of this, RL knows why he was chosen and what he must do. I do not, but I would venture a guess that we are going to be following a lot of pointy hands!
END PART TWO PAGES COVERED: 23-100 PAGES LEFT TO GO: 409 CHAPTERS LEFT TO GO: 107
* My apologies. The text is actually The Complete Zohar.
** You may think HSRL suffers the same condition, but he does not. He suffers something similar, in which he delivers entire, unasked for lectures on the fairly obvious. But, instead of being put into a pod, this has gotten him his job at Harvard and thousands of rabid fans.
*** I feel obligated to link to this video, which claims the same thing. I warn you, it is VERY PROFANE so if you are under 35, I forbid you to click this link. But as far as I can tell at this point, this video pretty much sums up where this book is going.
A few days ago, I suggested on Twitter that I was going to read The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown and produce a complete readers’ guide. Now, I wasn’t SERIOUS. But I was overheard, and a copy of the book was placed in front of me today with the admonition that I had to put up or shut up, so now I am going to read The Lost Symbol and give you a chapter-by-chapter breakdown, even if it kills me.
You can read this guide any way you like. You can read it AFTER reading the book, or WHILE reading the book, or BEFORE reading the book, or INSTEAD OF reading the book . . . whatever you want. I am just warning you that I am reading this and recording my guide in REAL TIME, and there will be spoilers.
So now, without further ado . . . the first part of my LOST SYMBOL READERS’ GUIDE.
******************
The book begins with a FACT, which states that in 1991, the CIA locked up a document about something secret and it contains the sentence “It’s buried out there somewhere.” That is genuine truth. So get ready, because this is about to get real.
Prologue
We are at a Renaissance Faire. A 34 year old man in a floppy shirt and a noose around his neck is drinking wine from a skull cup.
No, wait. We are NOT at a Renaissance Faire. We at just BLOCKS AWAY FROM THE WHITE HOUSE! And we are at an initiation ceremony and it is super, super secret and super, super weird. We don’t know who is being initiated, but he is clearly up to no good. He is thinking devious things in italics the whole time. But he is also thinking, "The secret is to know how to die.”
Just think of something really creepy and secret society-like and multiply that by eleven and you will get a sense of just how creepy and secret-society like this is. There is a man in charge. We know he is in charge because he is called The Supreme Worshipful Master, which is about as clear an indication as you are ever going to get. That is clearly a job that comes with some kind of a hat.
The initiate is thinking that his devious, italicized thoughts are going to be found out! But then they aren’t. In books, no one can hear you italicize.
Chapter one
A small boy and his dad are on the Otis elevator (Otis is, in fact, the largest manufacturer of elevators—a fact you probably knew already, but this can only be a sign of quality) . . . well, of COURSE it’s an Otis! We’re in the Eiffel Tower! The boy is having a panic attack and thinks he can’t breathe, and his dad is doing the “shut up and don’t be such a coward thing” that parents sometimes have to do in public. But then the cables snap and bottom drops out of the car! Omg!
Fooled you! Dream sequence!
Harvard Symbologist Robert Langdon wakes up from his dream. He’s on a private jet (a Falcon 2000EX, to be specific, which is the BEST kind of Falcon 2000 because that EX probably stands for EXCELLENT) flying to see his rich friend Peter Solomon—his other father, as it were. Robert Langdon doesn’t want to disappoint this man with the “soft grey eyes” by being a huge, huge coward, so he bravely sits on the plane like a fully-grown symbologist. He calms himself by obsessing over the 555-foot obelisk* in the middle of Washington DC.
A professional waver named Pam (one suspects that she is not so much an employee, merely someone who likes to wave at planes and the airport has just accepted the fact that she is not leaving) greets Robert Langdon on touchdown. She immediately wants to know if he is THE Robert Langdon who writes the books on symbols and religion. It’s Pam’s lucky day because he IS that Robert Langdon! Pam has recognized him because of his “uniform”: a turtleneck, a tweed jacket, khakis, and loafers. It’s possible that Pam has asked every single person she has ever seen wearing this outfit if they are Robert Langdon and has been disappointed for YEARS. It just goes to show . . . you have to hold on to your dreams and keep trying!
We also learn that Robert Landon is afraid of ties! He calls them “little nooses”! (That’s TWO nooses in six pages! This is going to be important. I demand a prize if he ends up hanging later in this book. MARK MY WORDS.)
Anyway, Pam is still greeting HSRL** relentlessly and telling him how to dress and going ON AND ON about his books and saying that he probably gets this all the time so maybe she should shut up. But she does NOT shut up, because you know how you get when you meet your favorite symbologist. You just start freaking out.
HSRL has places to be, and he wants her to leave, so he gives Pam the customary tip you give to people who wave at you (usually $20, or a small cake, if you have one on you) and meets Charles from Beltway Limousine. HSRL doesn’t take no cab! Inside, Charles has provided him with bottled water and tiny, hot muffins. (I don’t want to seem cynical, but I am starting to suspect that DB*** wrote some of this on a book tour and is literally just describing his own media escorts and crazy readers and drivers and hot, tiny muffins, but that is neither here nor there, and we must get right back to the fact that HSRL is now IN A CAR.)
Chapter two
I must try to make this chapter summaries a bit shorter because we are never going to get anywhere at this rate. Brevity. That’s what I’m going to aim for. Which is a good thing, too, because this chapter is two and a half pages long.
A tall, shaved, naked man named Mal’akh is tattooing himself and quietly saying under his breath: I AM A MASTERPIECE. Mal’akh is single, by the way. The book doesn’t say that—but I know it to be true.
We get a brief history of tattooing, and then the clock chimes six thirty and Mal’akh stops tattooing himself, so I am guessing that perhaps tattooing himself is his job, and like Fred Flintstone, he stops immediately when the bell rings and slides down the dinosaur to go home.
Except Mal’akh is already home, so he puts on a fabulous silk robe and runs around his house, blasting Verdi’s Requiem. He bounds up the stairs and goes to his bedroom and confronts himself in the mirror. He is so overwhelmed that he drops the robe and again considers his naked self and ital-thinks: I am a masterpiece.
I fully admit that as a kid and a teenager, I dressed up and ran around the house blasting music when no one was home . . . For me, there was a lot of dark makeup and The Smiths and The Cure, so I am not judging, per se, but I kind of feel that Mal’akh has taken this to a whole new level and is scaling the Kilimanjaro of weird to its creepy peaks and probably he needs a friend or a dog.
Mal’akh is now a 33rd level warlock in World of Warcraft**** and he is going to do something really, really important. He leaves the house (I’m guessing he’s gotten dressed, maybe in the HSRL uniform) and is going to do something to the Capitol building which is guaranteed to be exciting. Good for Mal’akh! I will be rooting for him. Chapter three
Back in the car, Robert Langdon looks up because he can tell from the sound of the tires that they are already on Memorial Bridge. Normally, this would be a kind of pointless detail that you might leave out of a book, but it tells us that Robert Langdon can navigate by sound. He is just that observant. Shaken back to awareness, he once again starts staring at the huge obelisk which he can now see out the window. He really loves that obelisk.
We find out that HSRL didn’t think he was going to be here at all! He thought he was just going to have a quiet Sunday at home! The last time he thought that, the sky exploded over Rome and the quasi-pope parachuted out of a helicopter! Time to stop answering the phone on your day off, Robert!
It turns out that Peter Solomon’s assistant called him that morning and left a message to call back at the number 202-329-5749. And then he got a FAX asking him to call 202-329-5749! And then we hear all about how Peter Solomon is totally like the richest and most important guy ever! He turned HSRL into the HS he is today! And he’s totally been calling all morning trying to get Robert to dial 202-329-5749! And in case you think it is boring to read someone’s messages when all they say is “please call 202-329-5749”, well, you might be right, but guess what? Peter Solomon totally needs HSRL to be the main speaker at a private gala at the Smithsonian. And guess when it is? It’s tonight!
HSRL decides he needs coffee! I’ll bet you do, Robert!
Chapter four
Mal’akh goes through security at the Capitol Building. That’s the whole chapter.
I could tell you more about how he’s wearing a sling, and a ring (hey, that rhymes!) but I really have to go faster. All you need to know is that he goes through security and he makes it even though you know he is carrying something that is probably totally not allowed. I’m just glad to see Mal’akh out of the house.
Chapter five
In chapter five, we meet Katherine Solomon, who is Peter Solomon’s sister. And if you liked hearing about how Mal’akh went through security, you will love hearing about how Katherine Solomon drove her white Volvo through the gate of 4210 Silver Hill Road, just outside of Washington DC.
Katherine practices something called Noetic Science, which sounds totally made up! But I just looked it up on Wikipedia. It’s real! DB is always doing that! Making me look things up on Wikipedia! Noetic Science, from what I just read, is basically fancy New Age healing, mind-potential stuff. So whenever Katherine comes on, I am totally going to hear Enya in my head. Katherine has just gotten some shocking news about Peter. We don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t sound good. I fear that we are going to have a death sequence in our future.
Then we jump over to Mal’akh who calls her on the phone to tell her that whatever it is that Peter thinks is hidden in DC . . . it’s real! And it can be found! Katherine is all omg.
As are we all, Katherine. As are we all.
END PART ONE PAGES COVERED: 1-23 PAGES LEFT TO GO: 486 CHAPTERS LEFT TO GO: 130
* It is entirely improper to giggle at the fact that he has such a thing for huge obelisks and I am, frankly, a little ashamed of you. Who doesn’t like to stare at and constantly think about HUGE OBELISKS?
** Henceforth, this will be short for Harvard Symbologist Robert Langdon
*** Henceforth, this will be short for Dan Brown
**** That may be wrong, but he is definitely a 33rd level something. I think that’s only in WOW, right? Or is that D&D as well?
Hello, everyone! I write to you from England, where it is 4 in the morning. Why am I blogging at 4 in the morning? Because my body decided that it would be fun to wake up at 3:00. I hung around in bed until 3:30, and then just gave in to the challenge.
“Fine,” I said. “Have it your way, body. You won’t think it’s so funny around 6am.”
My body ignored this and demanded a bowl of cereal and a cup of tea. So here I sit, poised in front of my computer, with several hours to go before sunrise! Exciting!
Now, you may have noticed that I have been A LITTLE BEHIND on the blogging this summer. This isn’t because I’ve been napping on the job. QUITE THE OPPOSITE. My silence was caused by the fact that I was working overtime on an exciting new project WHILE working on 13 Little Blue Envelopes 2. Plus, I was DOING STUFF.
But it’s all to the good, I assure you. And I will be able to tell you about the EXCITING NEW THING this week. And I’m not waiting just to be annoying. There’s going to be a general announcement made, and I have to stay in step with that. But I am BURSTING to tell you. Maybe that’s why I’m awake at 4am.
Anyway, since I’m up, I felt like it was time to do a blog! So I went on Twitter to ask if anyone had any questions they needed answered. I’m not sure you should take my advice on any occasion, but I can say without hesitation that you should not take the advice I dispense at 4am. Will that stop me from giving it? Of course not!
It's always time for ADVICE!
rawrlol asks: What does one DO at 4AM?
One writes a blog and gives out advice.
Elenisilelf asks: why are there no cute boys in any of my classes?
Possibly you go to MY former high school? Look around you. Is it all girls, in all directions? Are they all dressed head to toe in fireproof navy blue polyester?
Diamondelight92 asks: should i buy a snuggie or a slanket?
Wow. This was a hard one. I had to do some research before I could make a call.
The Snuggie is pure informercial magic. It unabashedly goes for the “are you too stupid to live?” audience, which I appreciate. It takes some serious chutzpah to get out there on national television and say, “You know what are hard to figure out? Blankets.” You can’t make a statement like that without VISION. That they offered a free booklight with every purchase was simply another sign of their genius. Because what does “blanket too hard” imply if not “serious reader”? I can smell that copy of Chicken Soup for the Snuggie Soul from miles away! This is why we, as a nation, immediately saluted them. We know our kind of greatness when we see it.
The Slanket people come at it from a totally different angle. They know that we all, even if we won’t admit it out loud, want a Snuggie or a Slanket. We want one very much. We all KNOW it’s just a backwards robe and that it makes you look like an insane, lazy cult member, but it’s still AWESOME! We want to drape ourselves in sleeved fleece and recline, slack-jawed, on the sofa. If offered one for free, we will greedily accept it. I wish I had one right now, to write this 4am blog! If only I could get over the shame of ordering one!
The Slanket people have tried to figure out a way to make this okay. They have done this by filling their website with weird, quasi-hip descriptions and by giving small donations to eco-friendly causes. They are the thinking person’s Snuggie. And while I like the concept to giving money to charity, and I prefer the colors, I feel this makes the Slanket too self-aware.
I feel I’m going to have to come down on the side of the Snuggie, though you really can’t lose either way. And now matter what you choose, one thing will always be true . . . if you buy a wearable towel, the Snuggie and Slanket’s bastard cousin, you are clearly some kind of an a$%&*#e.
lalibrarylady86 asks: What are Bacon Bits really made of?
Many bacon bits are, weirdly, vegetarian. (Bac-o definitely are. You have to check the labels brand by brand. An easy rule of thumb: if they are crunchy, like fish gravel or Pop Rocks, they are vegetarian! If they are kind of quasi-moist and chewy, they are real!) The fake ones are made of soy or textured vegetable protein, often flavored with soy sauce and colored with red dye. In all cases, they make delicious cupcake toppings and are wonderful to toss at weddings in lieu of confetti.
VoraciousReader asks: Pls do not think I took your 'follow me' button overseriously but am also visiting UK atm and also up at 4 am. Advice?
Would you like to come over? Perhaps I can start a 4am club!
Failing that, if you are in London, I would go and stand in line for the FIRST LONDON EYE RIDE OF THE DAY! I mean, why not?
EJ_Hope asks: What is more appropriate in a literary work - tongue in cheek, sarcasm or in you face comedy?
There’s no answer to this. There are no rights or wrongs or appropriates. What’s important is a strong, clear, distinctive voice that tells its own truth in its own way. Also, vampires. Have you tried vampires? They are like Bac-os, but for books!
springtosprung asks: I have lots of fears that keep me from doing things i wish i could. social interaction is top of the fear list. any advice?
While I would normally encourage the development of a Fear List (I have written several of them myself!), I can see the problem here. While most things (jellyfish, the sun, birds, butterflies, shelving, water slides, etc.) are out to get you, other people generally aren’t. the one thought I always find reassuring—whatever you are going through, whatever weird feeling or problem you have, you are not the only person who has experienced it.
KWMomo77 asks: My whole family thinks I am going to be a literary great but, SMeyers crushed my dreams. HELP.
How has Stephenie Meyer crushed your dreams? And why is it that your family thinks you are going to be a literary great? The one thing I notice left out of both these statements is YOU. Nine times out of ten, the only person who can raise you up or keep you down is YOU. So while it is great that your family thinks you will do AWESOME, you are the only one who can make that happen. Likewise, it’s actually really hard for other people to keep you down—especially people you don’t know who have nothing directly to do with your life.
Unless, of course, Stephanie Meyer comes into your house at night and deletes your files. This is the problem I have with J.K. Rowling, who has been my nemesis for some time. I have told many stories of how she sneaks up on me, eats my snacks, follows me, and crashes through my windows. Of course, I don’t have it NEARLY as bad as Alan Rickman, who is trapped in her basement, forced to survive on jam and swim with her dolphin, Fatso. Even so, I thrive DESPITE Rowling’s attempts to bring me down. ARE YOU READING THIS, ROWLING? YOU’LL NEVER WIN! (And kudos to the brave people who fight to FREE ALAN RICKMAN.)
sushiitrain asks: how do I deal with my crippling tendency to procrastinate when I have so many things to do?
The best thing to do is to spend a few hours on the internet researching personal organization software, downloading free trials, and learning how to set them up. I find that the only thing better than an actual, physical list of things to do are about thirteen different computerized versions of the same thing, except with long, complicated menus and functions and lots of choices of colors and themes. This is what I do and it has LITERALLY NEVER FAILED ME!
koriannespeaks asks: How do you get a hamster in your brain?
Hamsters cannot live inside your brain. This would kill both you and the hamster. Hamsters control your brain remotely. They can do this from up to 500 miles away. So don’t worry if you can’t SEE the hamster who controls you! Trust in the fact that that hamster is there, bending you to its will, even if that will is that you wake up at 3:30am and write an advice blog. TRUST THE HAMSTER.
Certainly not me! I never respond to critics! I only respond to YOU, the hamsters, and the moonlight. But I do like how CRANKY this guy is! I also like how he’s extrapolating based on one incident involving one person which was generally acknowledged by everyone, everywhere to be COMPLETELY NUTS! One person doing one thing somewhere does not a TREND make! But why let that stop you, article writer? If there’s one thing we can always use, it’s another article complaining about the internet . . . on the internet.
But wait . . . am I responding to a critic using Twitter? I mean, he said nothing about me, and I’m responding in a blog. But I did get this link FROM Twitter. And I am responding. OH NO! I am going DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE!
Whatever the case, I think that in the future, we will solve all internet disputes with dueling cat videos. This way, EVERYONE WINS!
Ah! It is sunrise over England! I see it creeping over the horizon with its rosy fingers. So I bring my advice to an end. I must now run into the streets, heralding the morning and waking the inhabitants with my morning song. Look for more from me SOON. Maybe even TOMORROW.
