Whatever it is, I do believe that those who suffer neuroses
should count themselves part of such a body, albeit an undefined and
unregulated one. For who else would truly understand such a fear of the
irrational - and the fact that the light of reason offers no antidote – than
another who is a victim of the same condition?
I was thinking tonight that people with eating disorders
must find it a source of anxiety to have a house guest – a guest who is not
only unlikely to understand the nature of the affliction, but probably doesn’t
even know about it. Such a person would be ignorant of the house rules that must
accompany such a state of mind, and therefore pose a perceived potential threat
of some magnitude to the sufferer. He or she would be a loose canon forever
threatening to demolish the machinery of control.
Or maybe I’m completely wrong. Maybe I’ve become entranced
by the complex machinations of The Da
Vinci Code, and am consequently seeing complications where none exist.
* * *
On which note, I’ve nearly finished the book. The machinations
are, indeed, complex and well thought out. The plot has been painstakingly
constructed with some care, I have to admit.
The problem (apart from the sloppy writing) is in the detail,
which presents an aware and discerning reader with frequent, irritating examples
of dubious credibility. Would a competent secretary, for example, take around
fifteen minutes to make two cups of instant coffee? Would she do so in a
microwave? Would the ‘ping’ of the microwave be heard at the beginning of the
process, rather than the end? And, being British, would she ask ‘cream and
sugar?’ In all my life I’ve never heard anyone use that phrase, except in
American productions. We always ask ‘milk and sugar?’
That sort of thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment