Many of the smart-alecks who have taken to print to attack Dan Brown don't write as well as he does. What constitutes good writing? At a very basic level, it's something people can read. I would wager that most of us have, in the last few days, felt our eyes glaze over while reading yet another laboured parody of Mr Brown's works. At least the reader finishes his books.

These anti-Brown pieces tend to be written by metropolitan journalists for whom a novel lacks merit unless it involves a forensic account of two pre-op transexuals in sexual congress. They make two particular criticisms. The first is that Mr Brown suffers from a turgid prose style; the second is that his plotlines are so incredible that they are in some way also disreputable.

I shall deal with both criticisms, but before that we must discuss the fundamental problem most critics have with Mr Brown, which is his race. As a white, middle-aged American of comfortable means, and no obvious Democratic Party ties, whose stories have a moral foundation in a Protestant world view, Mr Brown belongs to one of the few groups of foreigners to whom the English are spiteful.

The hatred of what you might term "decent" America is very great in Britain. Liberal Britons dislike Christianity, sexual restraint, patriotism and careers which do not involve a social network strategy. These things belong in the old world, and because they are venerable they are seen as anti-progressive. They are, by some leap of logic, as viscerally disgusting as discredited ideas which genuinely warrant condemnation, such as racism.

Of course, this does not apply to all Americans. If you're the Prime Minister's wife, it is perfectly acceptable to say that your favourite song is by a young, black American woman, Azelia Banks, ignoring the fact that its brutal, stupid chorus is too disgusting even to disguise with asterisks. However, should a middle-aged white man write that "Science and religion are not at odds. Science is simply too young to understand," it's regarded as proof of intellectual failure.

Imagine the response had Brown's prose been attributed to a young Ivorian novelist and the Christian focus substituted for an Islamic one. The novelist would drown under a deluge of prizes, acclaim and job offers. The hatred felt for Mr Brown in England is, frequently, a hatred for his type, not his writing, and any discussion of his work and its critics is dishonest if it does not recognise that.

On the topic of Mr Brown the writer, I'm opposed to the popular opinion that he has no merit. His books are interesting. The plots can be compelling. Admittedly, they don't contain the insights into the human condition found in Graham Greene, Somerset Maugham or Evelyn Waugh. But Brown transports the reader into a well-sketched imaginary world and allow him the remarkable respite of fantasy. I found Angels & Demons gripping. It is a tremendous gift to be able to be able to amuse people in a world which is frequently laboured and grey. Mr Brown has it.

In addition, his books are frequently thought-provoking. I gather his new work discusses overpopulation, and I enjoyed his previous discussions of the relationship between science and religion, and of the potential pitfalls of digital technology. Perhaps Mr Brown's opinions on these issues disappoint the critics, but the purpose of a good book is to provoke independent thought, not dictate agreeable maxims. The idea that his subject matter is too fantastical to be taken seriously is frequently put forward by grown men who enjoy watching television shows about dragons. If they find plotlines involving Christianity more incredible, then that is their prerogative, but it won't stop me enjoying them..

Finally, there is the question of Mr Brown's prose. I do not see that it is particularly offensive. It's easy to understand and admits no ambiguity. When your purpose as an author is to convey a story rather than the impression of your own monumental cleverness, that is perfectly excusable.

Most of all, I found this torrent of mockery sad. I spent a long winter a couple of years ago writing a book about my walk from Canterbury to Rome. Nobody I sent it to seemed interested in publishing it, and I chalked it up to experience and threw it in a drawer. But what I did gain from the experience was real appreciation for the effort involved in writing a book and then revising it into a presentable condition. It's much easier to destroy than create. If the critics smearing Mr Brown possessed his ability and application, they would be in his position. They don't, and their envy is unbecoming.

deadken posted:

i call my dick + balls lacan and the silent partners

You should write a dan-brown style conspiracy caper except its about Lacan and in the end it becomes apparent that his readership never existed

deadken posted:

lol i might actually write that

you just did

swampman posted:

Because then it would be as big a success as "A Beautiful Mind," a similarly intense movie about a coolege professor haunted by.. well i wont spoil it for you.

lol

deadken posted:

Many of the smart-alecks who have taken to print to attack Dan Brown don't write as well as he does. What constitutes good writing? At a very basic level, it's something people can read. I would wager that most of us have, in the last few days, felt our eyes glaze over while reading yet another laboured parody of Mr Brown's works. At least the reader finishes his books.

These anti-Brown pieces tend to be written by metropolitan journalists for whom a novel lacks merit unless it involves a forensic account of two pre-op transexuals in sexual congress. They make two particular criticisms. The first is that Mr Brown suffers from a turgid prose style; the second is that his plotlines are so incredible that they are in some way also disreputable.

I shall deal with both criticisms, but before that we must discuss the fundamental problem most critics have with Mr Brown, which is his race. As a white, middle-aged American of comfortable means, and no obvious Democratic Party ties, whose stories have a moral foundation in a Protestant world view, Mr Brown belongs to one of the few groups of foreigners to whom the English are spiteful.

The hatred of what you might term "decent" America is very great in Britain. Liberal Britons dislike Christianity, sexual restraint, patriotism and careers which do not involve a social network strategy. These things belong in the old world, and because they are venerable they are seen as anti-progressive. They are, by some leap of logic, as viscerally disgusting as discredited ideas which genuinely warrant condemnation, such as racism.

Of course, this does not apply to all Americans. If you're the Prime Minister's wife, it is perfectly acceptable to say that your favourite song is by a young, black American woman, Azelia Banks, ignoring the fact that its brutal, stupid chorus is too disgusting even to disguise with asterisks. However, should a middle-aged white man write that "Science and religion are not at odds. Science is simply too young to understand," it's regarded as proof of intellectual failure.

Imagine the response had Brown's prose been attributed to a young Ivorian novelist and the Christian focus substituted for an Islamic one. The novelist would drown under a deluge of prizes, acclaim and job offers. The hatred felt for Mr Brown in England is, frequently, a hatred for his type, not his writing, and any discussion of his work and its critics is dishonest if it does not recognise that.

On the topic of Mr Brown the writer, I'm opposed to the popular opinion that he has no merit. His books are interesting. The plots can be compelling. Admittedly, they don't contain the insights into the human condition found in Graham Greene, Somerset Maugham or Evelyn Waugh. But Brown transports the reader into a well-sketched imaginary world and allow him the remarkable respite of fantasy. I found Angels & Demons gripping. It is a tremendous gift to be able to be able to amuse people in a world which is frequently laboured and grey. Mr Brown has it.

In addition, his books are frequently thought-provoking. I gather his new work discusses overpopulation, and I enjoyed his previous discussions of the relationship between science and religion, and of the potential pitfalls of digital technology. Perhaps Mr Brown's opinions on these issues disappoint the critics, but the purpose of a good book is to provoke independent thought, not dictate agreeable maxims. The idea that his subject matter is too fantastical to be taken seriously is frequently put forward by grown men who enjoy watching television shows about dragons. If they find plotlines involving Christianity more incredible, then that is their prerogative, but it won't stop me enjoying them..

Finally, there is the question of Mr Brown's prose. I do not see that it is particularly offensive. It's easy to understand and admits no ambiguity. When your purpose as an author is to convey a story rather than the impression of your own monumental cleverness, that is perfectly excusable.

Most of all, I found this torrent of mockery sad. I spent a long winter a couple of years ago writing a book about my walk from Canterbury to Rome. Nobody I sent it to seemed interested in publishing it, and I chalked it up to experience and threw it in a drawer. But what I did gain from the experience was real appreciation for the effort involved in writing a book and then revising it into a presentable condition. It's much easier to destroy than create. If the critics smearing Mr Brown possessed his ability and application, they would be in his position. They don't, and their envy is unbecoming.

i was with this guy all the way until he tried to claim that 212 has a chorus. argument invalid get out

n. It's much easier to destroy than create. If the critics smearing Mr Brown possessed his ability and application, they would be in his position. They don't, and their envy is unbecoming.

exactly, well-said

and like i said in the other thread, the whole london media class needs to go into the thames

deadken posted:

lol i might actually write that

i did it lol

http://samkriss.wordpress.com/2013/05/15/exclusive-extract-the-lacan-conundrum-by-dan-brown/

deadken posted:

deadken posted:
lol i might actually write that


i did it lol

http://samkriss.wordpress.com/2013/05/15/exclusive-extract-the-lacan-conundrum-by-dan-brown/

A short man burst into the boardroom of a superbly appointed office building in New York. “Sir,” he said, proffering a photo of Chad exiting the hotel. “McRib is back.”