Laith
If you like Dan Brown, you will like this latest entry in the Robert Langdon series. It's more of the same and doesn't deviate from the formula.
It's been a very long time since I've picked up a Robert Langdon novel, and reading The Secret of Secrets reminded me why. I don't really care for Dan Brown's books — which is a difficult admission to make, especially when I'd wager that most of the planet, myself included, has read and enjoyed The Da Vinci Code.
It's not that the series has gotten worse, or that Brown is a poor author. My issue is almost the opposite: it's the consistency. Once you've read one, you've read them all. They follow a fixed blueprint — Langdon goes to an exotic place, meets a beautiful woman, and gets sucked into an increasingly complex mystery. Part travelogue and part thriller, these books blend science, history, and religion into a carefully crafted conspiracy. The narration bounces between extremely detailed descriptions of the setting and alternating perspectives of Langdon and the principal cast, each chapter ending on a cliffhanger to keep you turning pages. This time Langdon is in Prague with his girlfriend Katherine Solomon, a researcher delivering a lecture on noetic science and human consciousness, who gets drawn into a complex plot to suppress her latest findings.
The Secret of Secrets doesn't stray one iota from that formula, and while your mileage may vary, I found myself getting bored. The travelogue aspect has always been what I enjoy most — Brown blends vivid descriptions with historical fun facts better than almost anyone — but that only accounts for about a third of the book. Perspective shifts don't usually bother me, but I hate how Brown executes them here. The relentless cliffhanger chapters make me feel like a volleyball, constantly bounced back and forth with very little development to show for it. The story meanders, splitting its focus needlessly. Despite an interesting premise and a thoughtful focus on noetic science, this was about 200 pages too long.
These books are like pizza — always good, incredible on the first try, but subject to diminishing returns. I read up to Inferno before having my fill of the formula the last time around. It was nice to revisit this universe, and I'll probably read the next one — but I'm not in any hurry.
If you like Dan Brown, you will like this latest entry in the Robert Langdon series. It's more of the same and doesn't deviate from the formula.
It's been a very long time since I've picked up a Robert Langdon novel, and reading The Secret of Secrets reminded me why. I don't really care for Dan Brown's books — which is a difficult admission to make, especially when I'd wager that most of the planet, myself included, has read and enjoyed The Da Vinci Code.
It's not that the series has gotten worse, or that Brown is a poor author. My issue is almost the opposite: it's the consistency. Once you've read one, you've read them all. They follow a fixed blueprint — Langdon goes to an exotic place, meets a beautiful woman, and gets sucked into an increasingly complex mystery. Part travelogue and part thriller, these books blend science, history, and religion into a carefully crafted conspiracy. The narration bounces between extremely detailed descriptions of the setting and alternating perspectives of Langdon and the principal cast, each chapter ending on a cliffhanger to keep you turning pages. This time Langdon is in Prague with his girlfriend Katherine Solomon, a researcher delivering a lecture on noetic science and human consciousness, who gets drawn into a complex plot to suppress her latest findings.
The Secret of Secrets doesn't stray one iota from that formula, and while your mileage may vary, I found myself getting bored. The travelogue aspect has always been what I enjoy most — Brown blends vivid descriptions with historical fun facts better than almost anyone — but that only accounts for about a third of the book. Perspective shifts don't usually bother me, but I hate how Brown executes them here. The relentless cliffhanger chapters make me feel like a volleyball, constantly bounced back and forth with very little development to show for it. The story meanders, splitting its focus needlessly. Despite an interesting premise and a thoughtful focus on noetic science, this was about 200 pages too long.
These books are like pizza — always good, incredible on the first try, but subject to diminishing returns. I read up to Inferno before having my fill of the formula the last time around. It was nice to revisit this universe, and I'll probably read the next one — but I'm not in any hurry.
