The Da Vinci Code

I caved. I'm a snob. I used to denounce all modern/new literature as being frivolous and unworthy of my attention. All the crazy popularity over recently published books felt just too hyped up for me to believe. I used to read solely classical books until recently. While the term "classic" literature might vary from individual to individual, for me it usually meant one thing -- the author should be dead by now. My first classic I recall reading in English was Jane Eyre. I was in the sixth grade, and it was my most proudest accomplishments (I came to the US in the 5th grade and was reading Bronte a year later!). I became a fan of Steinbeck, who, of course, is dead, Shakespeare, of course, who's been deader much longer and therefore much more worthier (I was foolish, I admit). Mark Twain, Thoreaou, the Bronte sisters, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Victor Hugo, Alex Dumas -- one of the more recently written books was Margaret Mitchell's epic, Gone with the Wind (one of my all time fav's) whichw as written by a former flapper debutante during the depression.

Somewhere along the way, I caved into reading more modern works. I was reading more and more modern stuff, more 20th century stuff, like The Great Gatsby (which I always think is a coincidence that I loved that book so much, and my English name is Daisy, and I live on Myrtle Street), and The Catcher in the Rye, 1984 among others.

Somehow, I fell into the HP series (and I don't mean Hewlett Packard), and found myself waiting anxiously for the next installment. J.K. Rowling better hop to it and shake a leg!

What I'm trying to say is, my prejudice against new books was wrong. New books can be the classics of tomorrow. Some are certainly worth reading, even if they mention the word, "Devil" and "Prada" in one phrase, let alone in one title.

I was curious; the hype was intriguing and all the other books that sprouted to discuss the original work was astounding. Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code has been on a best seller list for ages now, just screaming at me, "READ ME!!" And I tried to casually ignore it at the bookstore. It's red cover and gold embossed lettering, haunting me, and the Mona Lisa eyes leering at me -- they finally broke me.

Just got through the intro and the first chapter of the book. It sounds good. It's eerie, and just subtly spooky, and I want to get to the next page. Which means... sorry Salman. Sorry Billy (as in Shakespeare). Richard III has been around for centuries -- it can wait another week. Let's post pone the killing of the nephews to next Tuesday or so, when I have more time, shall we?