Yeah! Yeah! I know I have been a rather indolent blogger lately as one rather persistent friend points out whenever I’m on Gtalk, refusing to believe my excuse that I’m currently involved in a highly confidential project to solve global warming. So what kept yours truly from putting pen to paper ( or more precisely, finger to keyboard) all these days (apart from traveling and seeing places I never wanted to see in the first place)? As a rather disgruntled movie fanatic, I turned to sitcoms these holidays. And boy, am I luvin ‘em or what?! Among other things, I read books that I had missed out this year. And a lame specimen of this aforementioned category is what this post is all about- The Lost Symbol. You see, I read a quote somewhere recently. It said- ” There are two types of books, the ones you chew and the ones you digest.” Unfortunately, this book doesn’t fall in either category. A category of the sorts “Books which you puke out” seems more applicable.
I was never a big fan of Dan Brown. Not only are his books as formulaic as they come, they also come equipped with a ridiculously lame moral. In fact, with the last book of his that I read, Deception Point( I had finished reading his more popular books prior to that), I thought he had hit rockbottom. But with his latest offering, I believe he has begun to dig. Make no mistake. His lameness does not compare with the other writer that i have reviewed, Chetan Bhagat. Whereas Chetan Bhagat continually sets lower standards for each passing book and then consistently fails in achieving them, Dan Brown has had a few good books to his credit like the Da Vinci Code (or so I thought until I read this http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/000844.html). But with the stale broth of “well researched” literature spewed forth in the form of “The Lost Symbol”, he has come close.

Let’s face it, Robert Langdon as the offspring of Sherlock Holmes, step-brother to Superman, and the new avatar of Don Juan was interesting in the first book, bearable in the second and torturous now. Not only does The Lost Symbol have a done to death plot as original as a Nintendo playbox 360 available in the local market, it is about as close to objective reality as Ajit Agarkar is to beating Sachin Tendulkar’s batting records, while generating all the excitement associated with a Zimbabwe- Bangladesh test match. Hell, I’ve seen pornos with more original (and definitely more exciting) plots than this. Ofc, I know this will be made into a movie in years to come with Tom Hanks once again showcasing his vast repertoire of facial expressions (namely the dumb, dazed, perplexed, no-idea-what-the-hell-is-going-on-but-I’ll-still-play-along, constipated and again dumb looks), but I’d be better off watching re-runs of ‘Rakhi ka Swayamwar’ or hopefully ‘Rakhi ki Suhaagrat’on my TV.

So anyways, digressions apart, the story begins with a mention of a stupid little secret society called the FreeMasons that no one’s heard of (or cares about) , a leading member (some Peter dude, I forget the name) of which, is kidnapped and has his hand cut off by a tattooed villain (with an outrageously scary name Mal’akh) who incidentally seems as dangerous and threatening as a pickpocket on a local bus. The villain seeks to find out some particular word which will help him obtain an ancient source of power and the only person in the whole world who can help him do it is (drumroll)……..yep you guessed it right- the great claustrophobic Robert Langdon. And his bargaining chip (other than poor ol’ Peter  who no one really cares about) happens to be the possession of some video of powerful government officials indulging in a ‘secretive Masonic ritual’ (which is, no doubt, some code word for some wild monkey sex ). So there you have it, a wild caveman is on the loose, armed with a porno (probably) and a sidekick armed with err… one arm, on course for world domination and it is upto Robert ‘I’m so scared of elevators’ Langdon to save the world. How about that for a plot, eh? (Incidentally, one question kept bothering me the whole time. If Robert Langdon is so scared of moving in closed elevators how does he take a crap in closed toilet cubicles? Or does he keep the doors open?)

So as is the case with the other books, Robert Langdon hops around from one country to another running away from the police agency of whichever country he is in, taking time breaks in between to visit all the monuments around him while giving gyaan on matters of universal importance like Madonna’s surname (Yes, he actually does that in Angels and Demons), and uses some weird symbols, ancient paintings, pyramids and objects of similar importance to solve silly mysteries that no one really cares about and save the world yet again, while hitting on hyper-intelligent uber-hot chicks at the same time. Did I mention that he does all this in a span of twelve hours? Talk about multitasking! Now, I could go on for pages on how he uses the stupid symbols to save the world, but since I don’t subscribe to Dan Brown’s philosophy of “Why use only one word to convey something when you can do it in 1024?”, I’ll skip right to the end.

As you might very well know by now, Dan Brown’s books are characterised by twists. And so in a shocking twist in the tale he reveals to us – brace yourselves ppl (warning: definitely not for the weak hearted)-  that good ol’ Mal’akh is actually that Peter guy’s son (ooohs and aaahs all around). I could again go on for pages about how Langdon and co. rescue the Peter guy in the nick of time, but fearing brickbats from readers whose patience has already been stretched to its limits, I won’t. In a fitting finale to this epic thriller, we have Robert Langdon uncovering some of the best kept secrets in the world, for the protection of which millions of masons have been martyred over the millenia (Note the alliteration :D ). Move over 42, you are not the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything as Langdon as finds out. In fact, the the answer is -hold your breaths, ppl- (drumroll)………. that * Wait for it*………. God is a part of Man and two heads are better than one (Tada! Applause and cheering). Profound, isn’t it??

So you see, after suffering 450 pages of this celebration of craptasticity (I know there is no such word), i expected atleast a half-decent ending, but I realize Dan Brown’s sole intention was to unzip his fly and let loose all over Douglas Adams’ grave. And I had half a mind to do just that (on the book, I mean). Because, for all his show of bringing out an intellectual book by making references to Noetic sciences and the like, it would be insulting to the average reader’s intelligence if he expects us to believe half the codswallop that he dishes out in the last 50 pages or so.

The book ends with the word ‘Hope’ and if there is one thing where Dan Brown has never failed to deliver, it is in giving others hope. Hope that one day duds like me could a write a book with utterly pointless symbolism, formulaic plots, lame Panchatantra flourishes as endings and get away with a readership of 5.5 million. Or so I thought until I saw this  http://www.slate.com/id/2228327/ and this http://www.columbia.edu/~ip71/fun/danbrown.html. No point in me doing it when a computer can do it better, huh?

P.S: One thing’s certain tho, that this is my last Dan Brown book ever. Period. Hence the name of the title.

P.P.S: (I love using parentheses in my posts. :D )

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