On Tuesday, September 15th, Dan Brown’s much-anticipated book, The Lost Symbol, was released – his third book featuring the Harvard symbologist, Robert Langdon. In Brown’s earlier bestsellers, Langdon ventured out to uncover the hidden secrets of the Catholic Church. In this novel Langdon seeks to rescue his recently kidnapped friend, Solomon, and is consequently hurled into the hidden world of Washington’s Masonic secrets.
While some may be more interested in the book’s thriller plot, what I am most interested in is the world’s reception of Dan Brown’s new novel. Being released six years after The Da Vinci Code – a wildly controversial novel that sold more than 80 million copies, inspired countless related books, and was turned into a feature film – The Lost Symbol has proven itself as a worthy match to this phenomenon. It became the 6th best-selling book of 2009 on Amazon.com based on pre-publication orders alone, became the #1 best-seller on its first day of release, and had an impressive 6.5 million initial book print run.
More fascinating still is the book’s love and hate reception. The New York Times seems wildly in favour of Brown, praising him for “bringing sexy back to a genre” left for dead and smoothing “over the tension between ancient Christianity and modern American faith”. The Quill and Quire, on the other hand, has been bashing Brown all week, citing Brown’s bestselling phenomenon as an example of how the “book is dead”. Last Friday, as a tribute to the end of what the Quill and Quiretermed “Dan Brown Week”, the mag even compiled a list of well-known authors who provided snarky comments about how Brown’s book is “so bad that it gives bad novels a bad name” or how Brown probably “wonders why he’ll never be able to write exactly as well as he wishes he could” and why “literary acclaim eludes him.”
Other than the novel’s writing-style (clunky and clichéd, say most reviewers), what is it about Brown that gets under people’s skin? What is it about him that inevitably evokes a response, whether it is for good or bad? Some cite Brown as proof that the book industry has gone to naught, while others look to Brown as an industry saviour.
Those who cite Brown as the industry’s second coming view Brown’s sales as a positive thing. In an era where authors and publishers alike are stressing over the death of the printed word, and in a society where e-books and smartphones negate the need for that in-between print man, Brown’s phenomenal print run is proof that yes, this “obsolete” object still sells.
For those who cite Brown as proof of the industry’s failure, they look at his writing (a generic template, many say) and despair that the quality of literature has gone to crap. “This is what sells?” they ask in anguish. “What about the good old days of Dickens and Tolstoy? What about the days when authors sat and contemplated the world on a grassy hill and wrote something profound for the masses?” One can even argue that Brown is actually hurting the industry rather than feeding it. In anticipation of Brown’s massive release, publishers have had to push their book release schedules to avoid the onslaught of The Lost Symbol.Furthermore, new authors would have an especially hard time breaking into the market with their meagre two centimetres of shelf space as opposed to Dan Brown’s wall-to-wall coverage and display table.
It’s easy to see what people are getting excited about. Even without the raging undertones of worried and jubilant book-lovers alike, Dan Brown is making a stir. And I can personally walk both sides of the fence. I appreciate the occasional easy read (fast paced with short chapters and words that don’t twist your brain into knots) and yet as an aspiring author it is a bit frightening to see heavy-hitters like Brown monopolizing the market with his less-than profound literary wit.
Personally, however, I’m of the camp that thinks that Brown is someone to celebrate rather than hate. The book industry, despite its currently dreary prospects, can’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t know if I’m simply hoping against hope here (a quite possible option), but I’m still hanging onto a shred of faith that despite what new technologies emerge, the book is something that will always be in demand in some shape or form. In my opinion, there will always be people falling in love with the book as an object – the smell of paper and the weight of it in one’s hands – and who will always prefer the paperback to the cellphone screen.
Furthermore, for those protesting against Brown’s multi-million dollar escapade, lamenting the lost souls who pick up Brown’s easy read as opposed to Milton or Chaucer, the book market has always met with best-selling “trash”. Where there’s been literary fiction, there’s also been harlequin romance, and where there’s been JK Rowling, there’s also been Stephenie Meyer. In the end, Meyer encouraged some to read Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights (though, to be honest, this marketing move still makes me cringe), and The Da Vinci Code attracted others tothe Bible and the Catechism. Where there’s interest, there’s a market. Who’s right is it to take personal stabs at Brown? The fact remains that he’s written a book and he’s sold it – an admirable feat that’s always been difficult, not just since Brown arrived, but since the beginning of print time. That feat, in itself, means something. One million of Brown’s books sold on the first day? Well, that means one million people out there are reading. And that’s a big deal.
Dan Brown, you’re alright in my books.
by Mia Herrera
On Tuesday, September 15th, Dan Brown’s much-anticipated book, The Lost Symbol, was released – his third book featuring the Harvard symbologist, Robert Langdon. In Brown’s earlier bestsellers, Langdon ventured out to uncover the hidden secrets of the Catholic Church. In this novel Langdon seeks to rescue his recently kidnapped friend, Solomon, and is consequently hurled into the hidden world of Washington’s Masonic secrets.
While some may be more interested in the book’s thriller plot, what I am most interested in is the world’s reception of Dan Brown’s new novel. Being released six years after The Da Vinci Code – a wildly controversial novel that sold more than 80 million copies, inspired countless related books, and was turned into a feature film – The Lost Symbol has proven itself as a worthy match to this phenomenon. It became the 6th best-selling book of 2009 on Amazon.com based on pre-publication orders alone, became the #1 best-seller on its first day of release, and had an impressive 6.5 million initial book print run.
More fascinating still is the book’s love and hate reception. The New York Times seems wildly in favour of Brown, praising him for “bringing sexy back to a genre” left for dead and smoothing “over the tension between ancient Christianity and modern American faith”. The Quill and Quire, on the other hand, has been bashing Brown all week, citing Brown’s bestselling phenomenon as an example of how the “book is dead”. Last Friday, as a tribute to the end of what the Quill and Quiretermed “Dan Brown Week”, the mag even compiled a list of well-known authors who provided snarky comments about how Brown’s book is “so bad that it gives bad novels a bad name” or how Brown probably “wonders why he’ll never be able to write exactly as well as he wishes he could” and why “literary acclaim eludes him.”
Other than the novel’s writing-style (clunky and clichéd, say most reviewers), what is it about Brown that gets under people’s skin? What is it about him that inevitably evokes a response, whether it is for good or bad? Some cite Brown as proof that the book industry has gone to naught, while others look to Brown as an industry saviour.
Those who cite Brown as the industry’s second coming view Brown’s sales as a positive thing. In an era where authors and publishers alike are stressing over the death of the printed word, and in a society where e-books and smartphones negate the need for that in-between print man, Brown’s phenomenal print run is proof that yes, this “obsolete” object still sells.
For those who cite Brown as proof of the industry’s failure, they look at his writing (a generic template, many say) and despair that the quality of literature has gone to crap. “This is what sells?” they ask in anguish. “What about the good old days of Dickens and Tolstoy? What about the days when authors sat and contemplated the world on a grassy hill and wrote something profound for the masses?” One can even argue that Brown is actually hurting the industry rather than feeding it. In anticipation of Brown’s massive release, publishers have had to push their book release schedules to avoid the onslaught of The Lost Symbol.Furthermore, new authors would have an especially hard time breaking into the market with their meagre two centimetres of shelf space as opposed to Dan Brown’s wall-to-wall coverage and display table.
It’s easy to see what people are getting excited about. Even without the raging undertones of worried and jubilant book-lovers alike, Dan Brown is making a stir. And I can personally walk both sides of the fence. I appreciate the occasional easy read (fast paced with short chapters and words that don’t twist your brain into knots) and yet as an aspiring author it is a bit frightening to see heavy-hitters like Brown monopolizing the market with his less-than profound literary wit.
Personally, however, I’m of the camp that thinks that Brown is someone to celebrate rather than hate. The book industry, despite its currently dreary prospects, can’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t know if I’m simply hoping against hope here (a quite possible option), but I’m still hanging onto a shred of faith that despite what new technologies emerge, the book is something that will always be in demand in some shape or form. In my opinion, there will always be people falling in love with the book as an object – the smell of paper and the weight of it in one’s hands – and who will always prefer the paperback to the cellphone screen.
Furthermore, for those protesting against Brown’s multi-million dollar escapade, lamenting the lost souls who pick up Brown’s easy read as opposed to Milton or Chaucer, the book market has always met with best-selling “trash”. Where there’s been literary fiction, there’s also been harlequin romance, and where there’s been JK Rowling, there’s also been Stephenie Meyer. In the end, Meyer encouraged some to read Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights (though, to be honest, this marketing move still makes me cringe), and The Da Vinci Code attracted others tothe Bible and the Catechism. Where there’s interest, there’s a market. Who’s right is it to take personal stabs at Brown? The fact remains that he’s written a book and he’s sold it – an admirable feat that’s always been difficult, not just since Brown arrived, but since the beginning of print time. That feat, in itself, means something. One million of Brown’s books sold on the first day? Well, that means one million people out there are reading. And that’s a big deal.
Dan Brown, you’re alright in my books.
by Mia Herrera
On Tuesday, September 15th, Dan Brown’s much-anticipated book, The Lost Symbol, was released – his third book featuring the Harvard symbologist, Robert Langdon. In Brown’s earlier bestsellers, Langdon ventured out to uncover the hidden secrets of the Catholic Church. In this novel Langdon seeks to rescue his recently kidnapped friend, Solomon, and is consequently hurled into the hidden world of Washington’s Masonic secrets.
While some may be more interested in the book’s thriller plot, what I am most interested in is the world’s reception of Dan Brown’s new novel. Being released six years after The Da Vinci Code – a wildly controversial novel that sold more than 80 million copies, inspired countless related books, and was turned into a feature film – The Lost Symbol has proven itself as a worthy match to this phenomenon. It became the 6th best-selling book of 2009 on Amazon.com based on pre-publication orders alone, became the #1 best-seller on its first day of release, and had an impressive 6.5 million initial book print run.
More fascinating still is the book’s love and hate reception. The New York Times seems wildly in favour of Brown, praising him for “bringing sexy back to a genre” left for dead and smoothing “over the tension between ancient Christianity and modern American faith”. The Quill and Quire, on the other hand, has been bashing Brown all week, citing Brown’s bestselling phenomenon as an example of how the “book is dead”. Last Friday, as a tribute to the end of what the Quill and Quiretermed “Dan Brown Week”, the mag even compiled a list of well-known authors who provided snarky comments about how Brown’s book is “so bad that it gives bad novels a bad name” or how Brown probably “wonders why he’ll never be able to write exactly as well as he wishes he could” and why “literary acclaim eludes him.”
Other than the novel’s writing-style (clunky and clichéd, say most reviewers), what is it about Brown that gets under people’s skin? What is it about him that inevitably evokes a response, whether it is for good or bad? Some cite Brown as proof that the book industry has gone to naught, while others look to Brown as an industry saviour.
Those who cite Brown as the industry’s second coming view Brown’s sales as a positive thing. In an era where authors and publishers alike are stressing over the death of the printed word, and in a society where e-books and smartphones negate the need for that in-between print man, Brown’s phenomenal print run is proof that yes, this “obsolete” object still sells.
For those who cite Brown as proof of the industry’s failure, they look at his writing (a generic template, many say) and despair that the quality of literature has gone to crap. “This is what sells?” they ask in anguish. “What about the good old days of Dickens and Tolstoy? What about the days when authors sat and contemplated the world on a grassy hill and wrote something profound for the masses?” One can even argue that Brown is actually hurting the industry rather than feeding it. In anticipation of Brown’s massive release, publishers have had to push their book release schedules to avoid the onslaught of The Lost Symbol.Furthermore, new authors would have an especially hard time breaking into the market with their meagre two centimetres of shelf space as opposed to Dan Brown’s wall-to-wall coverage and display table.
It’s easy to see what people are getting excited about. Even without the raging undertones of worried and jubilant book-lovers alike, Dan Brown is making a stir. And I can personally walk both sides of the fence. I appreciate the occasional easy read (fast paced with short chapters and words that don’t twist your brain into knots) and yet as an aspiring author it is a bit frightening to see heavy-hitters like Brown monopolizing the market with his less-than profound literary wit.
Personally, however, I’m of the camp that thinks that Brown is someone to celebrate rather than hate. The book industry, despite its currently dreary prospects, can’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t know if I’m simply hoping against hope here (a quite possible option), but I’m still hanging onto a shred of faith that despite what new technologies emerge, the book is something that will always be in demand in some shape or form. In my opinion, there will always be people falling in love with the book as an object – the smell of paper and the weight of it in one’s hands – and who will always prefer the paperback to the cellphone screen.
Furthermore, for those protesting against Brown’s multi-million dollar escapade, lamenting the lost souls who pick up Brown’s easy read as opposed to Milton or Chaucer, the book market has always met with best-selling “trash”. Where there’s been literary fiction, there’s also been harlequin romance, and where there’s been JK Rowling, there’s also been Stephenie Meyer. In the end, Meyer encouraged some to read Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights (though, to be honest, this marketing move still makes me cringe), and The Da Vinci Code attracted others tothe Bible and the Catechism. Where there’s interest, there’s a market. Who’s right is it to take personal stabs at Brown? The fact remains that he’s written a book and he’s sold it – an admirable feat that’s always been difficult, not just since Brown arrived, but since the beginning of print time. That feat, in itself, means something. One million of Brown’s books sold on the first day? Well, that means one million people out there are reading. And that’s a big deal.
Dan Brown, you’re alright in my books.
by Mia Herrera
On Tuesday, September 15th, Dan Brown’s much-anticipated book, The Lost Symbol, was released – his third book featuring the Harvard symbologist, Robert Langdon. In Brown’s earlier bestsellers, Langdon ventured out to uncover the hidden secrets of the Catholic Church. In this novel Langdon seeks to rescue his recently kidnapped friend, Solomon, and is consequently hurled into the hidden world of Washington’s Masonic secrets.
While some may be more interested in the book’s thriller plot, what I am most interested in is the world’s reception of Dan Brown’s new novel. Being released six years after The Da Vinci Code – a wildly controversial novel that sold more than 80 million copies, inspired countless related books, and was turned into a feature film – The Lost Symbol has proven itself as a worthy match to this phenomenon. It became the 6th best-selling book of 2009 on Amazon.com based on pre-publication orders alone, became the #1 best-seller on its first day of release, and had an impressive 6.5 million initial book print run.
More fascinating still is the book’s love and hate reception. The New York Times seems wildly in favour of Brown, praising him for “bringing sexy back to a genre” left for dead and smoothing “over the tension between ancient Christianity and modern American faith”. The Quill and Quire, on the other hand, has been bashing Brown all week, citing Brown’s bestselling phenomenon as an example of how the “book is dead”. Last Friday, as a tribute to the end of what the Quill and Quiretermed “Dan Brown Week”, the mag even compiled a list of well-known authors who provided snarky comments about how Brown’s book is “so bad that it gives bad novels a bad name” or how Brown probably “wonders why he’ll never be able to write exactly as well as he wishes he could” and why “literary acclaim eludes him.”
Other than the novel’s writing-style (clunky and clichéd, say most reviewers), what is it about Brown that gets under people’s skin? What is it about him that inevitably evokes a response, whether it is for good or bad? Some cite Brown as proof that the book industry has gone to naught, while others look to Brown as an industry saviour.
Those who cite Brown as the industry’s second coming view Brown’s sales as a positive thing. In an era where authors and publishers alike are stressing over the death of the printed word, and in a society where e-books and smartphones negate the need for that in-between print man, Brown’s phenomenal print run is proof that yes, this “obsolete” object still sells.
For those who cite Brown as proof of the industry’s failure, they look at his writing (a generic template, many say) and despair that the quality of literature has gone to crap. “This is what sells?” they ask in anguish. “What about the good old days of Dickens and Tolstoy? What about the days when authors sat and contemplated the world on a grassy hill and wrote something profound for the masses?” One can even argue that Brown is actually hurting the industry rather than feeding it. In anticipation of Brown’s massive release, publishers have had to push their book release schedules to avoid the onslaught of The Lost Symbol.Furthermore, new authors would have an especially hard time breaking into the market with their meagre two centimetres of shelf space as opposed to Dan Brown’s wall-to-wall coverage and display table.
It’s easy to see what people are getting excited about. Even without the raging undertones of worried and jubilant book-lovers alike, Dan Brown is making a stir. And I can personally walk both sides of the fence. I appreciate the occasional easy read (fast paced with short chapters and words that don’t twist your brain into knots) and yet as an aspiring author it is a bit frightening to see heavy-hitters like Brown monopolizing the market with his less-than profound literary wit.
Personally, however, I’m of the camp that thinks that Brown is someone to celebrate rather than hate. The book industry, despite its currently dreary prospects, can’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t know if I’m simply hoping against hope here (a quite possible option), but I’m still hanging onto a shred of faith that despite what new technologies emerge, the book is something that will always be in demand in some shape or form. In my opinion, there will always be people falling in love with the book as an object – the smell of paper and the weight of it in one’s hands – and who will always prefer the paperback to the cellphone screen.
Furthermore, for those protesting against Brown’s multi-million dollar escapade, lamenting the lost souls who pick up Brown’s easy read as opposed to Milton or Chaucer, the book market has always met with best-selling “trash”. Where there’s been literary fiction, there’s also been harlequin romance, and where there’s been JK Rowling, there’s also been Stephenie Meyer. In the end, Meyer encouraged some to read Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights (though, to be honest, this marketing move still makes me cringe), and The Da Vinci Code attracted others tothe Bible and the Catechism. Where there’s interest, there’s a market. Who’s right is it to take personal stabs at Brown? The fact remains that he’s written a book and he’s sold it – an admirable feat that’s always been difficult, not just since Brown arrived, but since the beginning of print time. That feat, in itself, means something. One million of Brown’s books sold on the first day? Well, that means one million people out there are reading. And that’s a big deal.
