Late to the Party: The Da Vinci Code
One of the problems with mentioning that you’ve at one time been a Med/Ren/Early Modern scholar to people is that they automatically assume to know what part of said time periods you enjoy. For most people, in my experience, Med/Ren/Early Modern studies consists of Shakespeare and Italian Renaissance art. Dante of course creeps into there, as does Henry VIII and his six wives. Generally, though, Shakespeare and the Italian Renaissance artists invariably make it into my pantheon of likes, at least according to other people. While I deeply appreciate both (though I am much more learned in Shakespeare than the likes of the Italian Masters), I am much more of a medieval girl than anything. In terms of the Renaissance, you can think of me as a pre-Shakespeare Renaissance woman. Most people don’t think to think of the Renaissance sans Shakespeare, but there you have it. The man didn’t just pull his enormous body of work from his ass, people. It had to have some antecedents, no?
No matter what I truly like, though, people don’t like to distinguish between the different types of Renaissance (cultural, geographical, political, etc.), and consequently lump all forms of the Renaissance together. Given that, I get all kinds of suggestions dumped on me. I appreciate all suggestions, but don’t follow up on a lot of them because my focus is quite narrow: England from the 1100s on, you see. I dabble in Spain, Italy, France and Germany, of course, because they have all deeply enriched my studies, but I am, in essence, Anglo centric.
The latest suggestion to come my way? The now-famed The Da Vinci Code.
I honestly have had little urge to pick up this book; I am not much of a fan of murder mysteries, and I tend to be very, very suspicious of historical fiction. In my experience, authors flub the exercise by injecting too much idealism, romance and fairytale into Med/Ren/Early Modern fiction, even when dealing with it from the confines of the 21st century. In addition, the Italian Renaissance is not my thing; I enjoy it thoroughly, but my knowledge of it does not begin to touch my knowledge of the English Renaissance. Based in art and architecture as The Da Vinci Code is, I know even less; I am not an art scholar at all. I was wary about the book, and did not think to pick it up at any point. It was one of those fads that would soon fade away, I thought, with me deftly escaping the task of reading it.
Well, as you may have guessed, I have read the book. It is a quick read (at 454 pages, I read it in a day), and the plot is carefully executed if not artfully exposited. On Amazon’s rating system, I gave the book three stars and asked the book behemoth to not use it as a recommendation; I’m not eager to read more about art capers, to be honest. While the book does use fascinating entities as vehicles (Opus Dei, the Vatican, the Louvre, Rosslyn Chapel) to weave together a story about the Holy Grail, the book is not an extraordinary feat by any means; it has already demonstrated its potential to raise questions and to send people into research to see if the assertions of its characters are true, but the a-little-bit-more-learned set, such as your truly (and I’m not bragging here, I just have background in The Da Vinci Code‘s central theme), will either nod in agreement based on research conclusions made long ago (hint: I am a strong Mary Mag revisionist) or stick their tongue out and blow raspberries at the book (too many references to the ever-annoying King Arthur, whose legend intensifies its relentless quest to exasperate me).
Overall, The Da Vinci Code is a clever mix of biblical, gnostic, Medieval and Renaissance history, wrapped together under the tree of 21st century enlightenment; however, it is far from a masterpiece, and far from suspenseful for a) those with a hint of education in Med/Ren/Early Modern history or b) those who are skilled in solving the plot well before half of the book is done. It is easy to follow, the clues are quite logical and solvable if you give yourself a moment, and the premise is a smart one with which to start. But the characters are not well-developed. Author Dan Brown’s focus on the history and the endless exposition (necessary and with the potential to be enlightening, but detracting and a bit clunky in presentation) does not give time for the characters to evolve. The book happens during the course of one day; while you wouldn’t expect to see much growth, 454 pages should call for some investment; it doesn’t.
The thing that book does instill is a wistful desire that this particular legend of the Holy Grail were accurate. That the destruction of womanhood could be reversed by the existence of documents and a sepulcher. That the pious Christianity now dominating the world would have to revisit itself and admit for the possibility of, oh you know, humanity in religion. Alas, the book is right in asserting that "history is always written by the winners." In the end, the book is just a wistful glimpse into what might be but cannot possibly be proved (again, like the Bible itself, but the Bible’s a winner). The Da Vinci Code is a foray into good historical fun and hmm-inducing theories. However, it leans towards fun more than anything else.
I too have read the “Da Vinci Code” and I find it an unbelievable insult to rational thought. Like you say, “However, it leans towards fun more than anything else.” If you want to find Shakespear’s antecedents, you may look into Italian Renaissance History. In fact, there is a website somewhere out there listing two plays’. I forget which, but “Hamlet” might as well be Lodovico Sforza’s Duchy of Milan c. 1497.
However; if you want da Vinci’s Code, you will find it in fifteenth century art and you will find it is herstory. You may start here if u like.
“But above all is to be distinguished the most graceful Raffaello da Urbino, who, examining and studying the works both of the earlier and later masters, took from all their best qualities, and, uniting these, enriched the domain of art with paintings of that faultless perfection anciently exhibited by the figures of Apelles and Zeuxis ; nay, we might even say more perchance, could the works of Raffaello be compared or placed together with any by those masters ; Nature herself was surpassed by the colours of Raphael, and his invention was so easy and original, that the historical pieces of his composition are similar to legible writings, as all may perceive who examine them : in his works, the buildings, with their sites and all surrounding them, are as the places themselves, and whether treating our own people or strangers, the features, dresses, and every other peculiarity were at pleasure represented, with equal ease. To the countenances of his figures Raphael imparted the most perfect grace and truth ; to the young as to the old, to men and to women ; each and all have their appropriate charater, for the modest he reserved an expression of modesty, to the licentious he imparted a look of licentiousness ; his children charm us, now by the exquisite beauty of the eyes and expression, now by the spirit of their movement and the grace of their attitudes ; his draperies are neither too rich and ample, nor too simple and meagre in their folds, still less are they complicated or confused, but all are so arranged and ordered in such a manner, that they appear to be indeed what they represent.”
1. Blashfield, Vasari, Lives, vol IV, Appendix II, page 403
1 + n. “Ironically, art’s history does not know Raffaello Santi Sanzio da Urbino Sforza – Romano because she paints autobiographies.” Will Joseph Sovereign ??