Saturday 27 June 2009

Dan Brown's Angels and Demons

Last week, I met with some others from one of my alumni associations. (As it happened, the others' subjects were either law or economics - both fields for which our university has very esteemed programmes... though I still say my divinity degree is from the best college of theology and philosophy in the world, or at least the English-speaking part.) Someone there, hearing of my odd subject, asked what I thought of Angels and Demons (meaning the Dan Brown book, not the beings.) I could not comment, not having read it at the time, but I needed to relax a bit this week, so I gobbled it down on trains and buses. (It's rather long, but fast paced, and this did not take long.) It most definitely is a 'page turner.' I rarely read detective stories, but this has to amongst the best of bad novels.

Unlike my 'co members' on this blog, I know exactly nothing of science, and had never heard of anti-matter, so I cannot comment on scientific deficiencies in the text. (Actually, I don't know if there is any such thing as "anti matter," and I'm too lazy to even do a Google search.) I didn't see the text as anti-Catholic, much as many comments I've read make this seem common, because churches in the Catholic traditions (not only Roman) haven't been against advances in science since they made peace with that Darwin's theory upset all the preaching based on 'the fall.' (Much of what Augustine wrote is definitely worth a look, but, as far as 'the fall' is concerned, I'll applaud anyone, including Darwin, who inadvertently makes heroic theologians risk excommunication by re-visiting my dear friend Irenaeus. The Orthodox, who are not considered heretics at all by Rome, held ideas on the topic similar to his all along... but, for all Rome may esteem Orthodoxy, an RC theologian who spins on the same themes is in danger of censure. So, if the plot to Angels and Demons seems twisted and puzzling, remember what I just said about 'orthodoxy' and recall it makes as much sense as anything else you've heard today.) The passages in the Italian language showed grammar and usage as bad as mine - and, believe me, when one's family is from Teora, that is bad, regardless of opera studies later. I think the Latin, rare though it was, was even worse... but, since I always was rather poor at classical languages, I can only assume it was even worse than mine. The spots where a speaker is supposed to be profound range from laughable to clichéd. There is one RC priest (whom I'll mention without including spoilers... tempting though that is) who is totally wicked in the name of preserving the faith.

This, of course, did not keep me from loving most of the book. Unlike many readers, I found the last quarter of the book to be boring and irritating, but I was riveted by the text up to that point. I was so committed to total relaxation that I didn't even bother to check references, or even my internal memory bank, about the possible flaws in history or art depictions.

I think that the success of this book (other than its obviously being snapped up by everyone who enjoyed "The DaVinci Code," which had so many theological and historical flaws that I seriously thought Brown was deliberately inserting inside jokes) stems partly from that it included so many 'hot topics.' The conflict of science and religion (which actually troubles any variety of Catholic far less than it does fundamentalists - but they have no major buildings capable of being wiped out by anti-matter) was a strong theme. The Arab assassin (who was also sadistic in the clinical sense) certainly would strike many a chord, major and perhaps augmented, at least until the wars are over. Controversial topics that most Roman Catholic theologians (don't tell that I revealed this... but there are many things that matter greatly, and some of these are... anti matters...) really wish would disappear are referenced (a pope who 'commits fornication in the heart,' but remains 'chaste,' yet satisfies his nun pal in a new version of the courtly love tradition by having a child by in vitro fertilisation made me laugh aloud.) The theme, which I still think was an inside joke, of ultra conservatives of the young generation thinking orthodox souls of my generation or the one before mine are way too liberal (... I'm just old enough to remember when Josef Ratzinger was a 'dangerous' German liberal... though he was saying then exactly what he is saying now...) would have made me laugh had I not seen too much evidence of what 'conservative' can mean today.

Yet there were two themes which were secondary, and still very powerful for their very truth. People do love miracles - and, sadly, people of conviction, religious or otherwise, can unite very quickly over a conflict with an enemy, real or perceived. I think it is very true, as Brown underlines, that certain individuals (obviously not myself among them... but others much holier, such as Francis of Assisi, would have been more cautious) fear that being very rational (in this book, specifically in relation to science) could make people lose the awe that inspires worship. Dan Brown's scientist - priest (which I can mention since it is explained early on) proves 'creation from nothing' - somehow, with its being about thirty-five years since I first heard Teilhard's words about how the nothing had to have longing to exist, lest the Creator be arbitrary, I suppose nothing would surprise me any longer. Still - even if everything in the cosmos could be proved, I doubt even the most ardent believer (in fact, especially members of that set) would think anyone was capable of understanding the divine.




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