Losing Symbols

Detectives are passé. Symbologists are in. Apart from the novelty of handsome academics cracking convoluted crimes, it gives the reader pleasure to be in the know of twists contained in ancient scriptures, works of art located in remote churches & famous museums and about religious sects with pagan practices. And there are attractive women, who seem to be integral parts of the plot. But nothing seems to happen between the handsome academic and the pretty damsel; I mean no sex. The pretty damsel seems to do nothing much except clutch the hero’s hand and run amid fires, explosions, murders and general mayhem. Occasionally she gives unintended clues to the handsome hero on where to look for clues. And occasionally she turns out to be the direct descendent of none other than the son of God who walked on earth, the one and only Jesus Christ.

The formula is getting tiresome. When the Lost Symbol was published amid great fanfare, I borrowed the book and read it. The twists in the story and the linkages to Freemasons were sounding wearisome and repetitive. It stretches credibility but the book has got away with a million plus readership. When did the CIA get interested in something as nebulous as the key to ancient mysteries buried in old buildings in Washington DC? Isn’t the CIA busy tackling terrorism in Middle East and South Asia? A chain smoking lady CIA operative of Japanese origin chasing a symbologist and secrets buried in old Washington monuments seems farfetched. It is one helluva way of investing scarce resources of the prime intelligence agency of the sole super power.

I saw the movie ‘Angels and Demons’ (adaptation of another book written by the same author- Dan Brown. I had read it some time back) on a flight. How does one seek hidden clues in ancient scriptures to future man-made tragedies? Throw in some science and a lot of mythology and you have a sure recipe for a winner. The writer seems to be doing well. With clever packaging, sale of movie rights and by courting controversy, he has made a fortune.

I am not reading the next book by Dan Brown, unless he desists from flogging the same dead horse again to produce a stereotypical novel with our famous symbologist hero. If symbology be his forte, why not an Indian astrologist and a complex plot of political manipulation in which the clues are hidden in the Brihad Samhita? Or a Telugu film producer’s fluctuating fortunes buried in the science of Nadi Shastra? Heh? Heh? A little research and a tight plot should do the trick.
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I remember writing about P.D James sometime back. I also recall mentioning that she is knocking on the windows of the great detective novel in the sky and at a ripe mid eighty we may not see her next work yet. A slim volume called “Talking about Detective Fiction” landed in my hands. Published in 2009, it is an appreciation of the best detective fiction writers of this century. Surprises never seem to end. In true P D James style, her views of her peers and long dead writers display the keenness of observation that characterizes her novels. We might yet see another Adam Dalgliesh novel from P D James. Dalgliesh is undoubtedly one of the best fictional detectives of its genre.

Great works are often unappreciated. I remember reading a book called the Mandala of Sherlock Holmes a few years back. By Jamyang Norbu, a Tibetan exile living in India. I was quite impressed. It was about the legendary Sherlock Holmes’ fictional Indian sojourn, narrated by a character out of Kipling’s book. The book didn’t go places; it never created a sensation. It made a strong impression on me. I still recommend it to the discerning reader.

Talking of discerning readers- I am not too possessive about the books I buy. I share them freely with friends and appreciative readers. Some of my best possessions have been borrowed and have never been returned. “The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich” by William Shirer, an excellent reference book for World War II buffs, has been lost twice to friends. Last year I bought it for the third time from a second hand book shop. The seller wanted Rs 200 for the well thumbed volume. I was willing to settle for Rs 150. While hectic bargaining was going on, the Missus intervened and said it is OK- pay 200. The seller immediately said- see good readers understand the value of good books- Considering that I was buying the book and not the Missus-(who is not a great fan of WWII stuff) I put on my best injured look. Do I look illiterate? Do I look like a guy who is going to off load this book to the garbage collector? Am I buying it just to display in my book case? I promise myself that I am not again going to lend this copy of Shirer to anyone again.