The Angels & Demons Read-Along Companion
I know that mocking Dan Brown is like hitting a stationary target upon which you are standing, but Angels & Demons hypnotized me with its curious mix of wretched prose, really bad action, horrendously awful characterization, and neck-snapping deployment of the worst pseudo-science I have ever seen, ever, anywhere.
I can't stop.
I believe this novel was born because Brown either confused or deliberately conflated the Illuminati of Persian mystical tradition (SHAITAN!!!) with the Illuminati of faddish, secretive Enlightenment-era gentlemen's clubs. To comical and disastrous result. Tom Hanks, you tool, I hope they paid you in bananas.
This is not a link to an illegal PDF copy of the novel, whatever it may look like to you. You also can't download it at The Pirate Bay, like I didn't.
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Prologue: The figure glared How is this possible?
Chapter 1: the Worldwide Web In case you accidentally confuse it with that other, non-proprietary "internet" thing.
Chapter 1: I'm loving the time-honored Suethor trope that involves having your Sue look at itself in a reflective surface, expound on its own hotness, and then elaborately describe its simultaneous desirability/alienation.
Chapter 1: What is Robert Langdon's nickname?
A.) The Massive Asstard — because he is one.
B.) The Tweedwhore — because he signals his imminent participation in an Important Symbological Adventure by first putting on his Harris tweed.
C.) The Sticky Chromosome — for obvious reasons.
D.) The Dolphin — because he's so cheerful and good at swimming.
E.) Langdon has no nickname, because no one likes him.
Chapter 1: If someone aggressively faxes me images of a disturbing, ritualistic occult murder and I am not a police detective, I'm going to call, in order: 1.) The cops, and, 2.) My momma. Then I'm going to run around the house making sure all the doors and windows are locked while trying not to hyperventilate. I'm not going to wander through my well-appointed library sipping cocoa and ruminating on my riches, attractiveness to the opposite sex, and rare artifact collection, all while wondering if I am about to embark on a big adventure.
Chapter 1: But, maybe that's because I'm not a "iconologist." Again, I question the viability of this term, let alone the profession. You can discuss religious, literary, musical, or artistic iconography as a professor of art, history, art history, music, religion, world religion, Western religion, religious history, philosophy, religious philosophy, or semiotics, but as an iconologist? Or a professor of religious iconology? Hmmm. Is this not the functional equivalent of being, like, one of those celebrity body language experts? How could iconography exist as a discipline independent of context? And, again, isn't everything Langdon allegedly does for a living covered under the blanket term "semiotics"? If it was good enough for Umberto Eco, bitch, it's good enough for you.
Chapter 2: OMG, Al Gore is on the phone!
Chapter 2: Why is Langdon so excited by the Illuminati? Didn't he read Good Omens?
Chapter 3: This 'chapter' is 10 lines long. Gee, I really loved the fourth grade!
Chapter 4: he thought about the fax in his jacket pocket, still unable to believe the image it depicted Do photographs "depict" images? They might depict "scenes," but not "images." A scene is not an image. A photograph, on the other hand, is.
Chapter 5: Note that this is exactly the same deluded-but-devoted-hired-religious-assassin plot that Brown re-used in The da Vinci Code, only here the killer is all black, not all white.
Chapter 6: This is the most ineptly-paced fiction I have ever read in my life. Counting fanfic.
Chapter 6: Another potentially life-threatening situation, another opportunity for Langdon to contemplate his global attractiveness to the ladies. And also to assert that female company is disruptive and apparently intellectually offensive.
Chapter 6: “Do you like Reba?” the pilot asked, jamming a cassette into the tape deck.
A woman started singing. “It’s just the fear of being alone... ”
Maybe it's Reba.
Chapter 6: After being repeatedly informed that he's flying to Switzerland on a giant mega-jet, it takes being confronted with French-language warning signs to alert the Dolphin that he's on foreign soil and needs his passport. Is 'professor of symbology' an advanced degree, or what?
Chapter 6: Besides water-polo, symbology, the Illuminati, relishing the fact that he's romantically unattainable, Nestle's Quik, Victorian mansions, ridiculous homoerotic artifacts, random unspecified books, and Harris tweed, we find another explicitly-stated Langdon preference: architecture! I bet he also likes ice cream.
Chapter 6: “The Glass Cathedral,” the escort offered.
“A church?”
“Hell, no. A church is the one thing we don’t have. Physics is the religion around here. Use the Lord’s name in vain all you like,” he laughed, “just don’t slander any quarks or mesons.”
FORE-SHA-DOW-ING!!!!
Chapter 6: On a sign: Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire. And then: “Nuclear Research?” Langdon asked, fairly certain his translation was correct. I NEED TO GET IN ON THIS SYMBOLOGY SHIT LIKE YESTERDAY.
Chapter 6: Don't step in that FORE-SHA-DOW-ING!!!! Luckily for me, I love red herring, especially for breakfast.
Chapter 7: the figure who ruled over his dominion from a wheelchair throne Oh, God no. And does this figure also glare?
Chapter 7: his sworn dedication to pure science As opposed to the usual, hip hop-influenced kind.
Chapter 7: Langdon had only been in Kohler’s presence a few moments and already sensed the director was a man who kept his distance. Langdon found himself practically jogging to keep up with Kohler’s electric wheelchair as it sped silently toward the main entrance. HEY YOU GUYS: HE MEANS THAT LITERALLY. THIS DUDE LITERALLY LIKES TO KEEP HIS DISTANCE. LIKE, APPARENTLY HE SHOUTS AT PEOPLE FROM ACROSS THE ROOM. WHY AM I NOT A BESTSELLING NOVELIST, AGAIN?
Chapter 7: Who knew Switzerland was like heaven, Mars, and the 34th century all at once? For keeping it on the downlow to minimize unwanted publicity, I say: Well played, Switzerland!
Chapter 7: One of the free fallers, an obese woman, maneuvered toward the window. She was being buffeted by the air currents but grinned and flashed Langdon the thumbs-up sign. Langdon smiled weakly and returned the gesture, wondering if she knew it was the ancient phallic symbol for masculine virility. I don't think I want to say anything about that, because I'm pretty sure just reading it caused me to lose the use of some vital internal organ necessary for bladder control.
Chapter 7: “Friction,” Kohler said. “Decreases her aerodynamics so the fan can lift her.” He started down the the corridor again. “One square yard of drag will slow a falling body almost twenty percent.”
Langdon nodded blankly.
He never suspected that later that night, in a country hundreds of miles away, the information would save his life.
It isn't even foreshadowing anymore, is it? It's like an Indiana Jones-related Choose Your Own Adventure book. To be fair, though, I had several of those and none of them were written this badly.
Chapter 8: “General Unified Theory.” Kohler quipped. “The theory of everything.” [*rimshot*] AHAHAHA!!
Chapter 8: His years of high-diving experience had given him a profound respect for the awesome power of gravitational acceleration. Is this, like, attempted humor? Because it might've worked, had Brown not just gone through an electronic thesaurus looking for synonyms for "said."
Chapter 8: What is the meaning of life and the universe? Bitch, please. It's 42. And now you have an authorial credibility rating of -0.
Chapter 8: Langdon picked up the Frisbee and expertly threw it back. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to engage in an internal monologue about his own hotness and how gross girls are, because Kohler was waiting. In his big, scary wheelchair. On the grounds of CERN. Which is in Switzerland. (In case you've forgotten.)
Chapter 8: But despite its sterile name, Building C appealed to Langdon’s sense of architectural style — conservative and solid. It had a red brick facade, an ornate balustrade, and sat framed by sculpted symmetrical hedges. Because nothing of importance is happening, Brown feels comfortable describing some random bushes. Later, and thousands of miles away, they will save Langdon's life.
Chapter 9: Langdon wondered if the intense chill now raking through his body was the air-conditioning or his utter amazement with the significance of what he was now staring at. Air-conditioning. Also, that's "of that at which he was now staring." Also, "amazement with the significance" is not grammatically correct. You're welcome.
Chapter 9: His heart pounded as he circled the body, reading the word upside down, reaffirming the genius of the symmetry. "Photoshop." The symbol seemed even less conceivable now that he was staring at it. You're hurting me.
Chapter 9: Langdon did not hear. He was in another world... his world, his element, a world where history, myth, and fact collided, flooding his senses. Narnia? Which explains almost everything.
Chapter 9: Ancient documents described the symbol as an ambigram — ambi meaning “both” — signifying it was legible both ways. Which ways are "both"? Try asking your best Chinese-literate friend this question.
Chapter 9: Please be aware that Langdon's description of The Illuminati is near-complete bullshit. Except for the "secret meetings" part.
Chapter 9: Oh, see, the lair of the Illuminati was called the "Church of Illumination," and this here is the Glass Cathedral, which is not only filled with a collection of the most luminous minds in Europe — marking it as the lair of a contemporary Illuminati — but it's GLASS, so it's also ACTUALLY ILLUMINATED. Did you get that? I said, IT'S MADE OF GLASS SO IT'S LITERALLY ILLUMINATED. Write it down. Both ways.
Chapter 9: “Yes. Galileo was an Illuminatus. And he was also a devout Catholic. He tried to soften the church’s position on science by proclaiming that science did not undermine the existence of God, but rather reinforced it. He wrote once that when he looked through his telescope at the spinning planets, he could hear God’s voice in the music of the spheres. He held that science and religion were not enemies, but rather allies — two different languages telling the same story, a story of symmetry and balance... heaven and hell, night and day, hot and cold, God and Satan. Both science and religion rejoiced in God’s symmetry... the endless contest of light and dark.” Langdon paused, stamping his feet to stay warm.
Kohler simply sat in his wheelchair and stared.
"Having been gobsmacked by Langdon's parochial, dogmatic idiocy — not to mention his unique talent for making shit up on the spot unimpeded by actual knowledge, as well as his unconventional good looks — Kohler instructed his minions to fire up the giant space jet and get Langdon the fuck out of CERN as fast as possible before he lowered the average IQ into the single digits and set back progress on important research by decades." I guess this is Brown's impersonation of eloquence? It's probably also the thesis of the novel. Try not to cry where anybody can see you.
Chapter 9: Ladies and gentlemen: We now have "alchemists" and "Jews" being classified together as "refugees" from the Catholic Inquisition! Finally! With this kind of attention, dispossessed alchemists may finally get to open that survivor's museum they've been waiting to see for centuries.
Chapter 9: Shaitan is the root of an English word... Satan. HOLY FUCKING MOTHER OF CRAP NO. NONONO. Actually, "shaitan" derives from "satan," not the other way around — which would make sense, since Judaism predates Islam by a couple of millennia, and is, in fact, the substrate upon which Islam is constructed — and "satan" is Hebrew, not fucking English, you fucking fucking fucking idiot. Also, and this may be splitting hairs, but "satan" just means "adversary," and does not include any diabolical connotations. The angel to whom it was originally applied, Satan-el, was mankind's adversary, not God's; he was the light-bringer, and one of his father's most successful and worthwhile creations. His merciless fondness for sounding the depths of the human soul was not only sanctioned by God, it was part of his celestial job — hence the name "Satan-el." There is no real evidence suggesting that he ever fell, or in fact even did anything evil, and he bears very little resemblance to the ridiculous idiot boogeyman lurking around modern Christian mythology. (Although, in the Old Testament proper there's also an angel referred to as the "ha-satan," which appears to be an office as opposed to a name, who accuses men of behaving badly; he isn't evil, either.) (He also isn't wrong.) Also, like many ancient religions, Judaism doesn't really recognize the concept of "duality" in the way Langdon simplistically represents it here. Duality is an apparatus belonging to Zoroastrianism and its many bastard sons. For Jews, all things are aspects of God. Therefore, there is no Jewish hell, and no overarching, sneaky villain who lords over it upon whom bad prose behavior can be blamed. And yes, they actually let you convert to Judaism now. Like, for real. I know!
Chapter 9: “Mr. Kohler, I do not know how this marking appeared on this man’s chest... or why... but you are looking at the long-lost symbol of the world’s oldest and most powerful satanic cult.” Although I didn't think it could be possible, I'm actually feeling slightly sorry for the Illuminati.
Chapter 10: I wish this language was a bit more racist. There's hardly any smoke coming out of my ears right now.
Chapter 10: And why does Le Hassassin du Fou always get the eight-word chapters?
Chapter 11: I am seriously going to explode if he doesn't stop with this 'shaitan' douchery. What's wrong with using the right word in the proper context? Is Brown trying to prove to his erstwhile professors that even the worst student can eventually become an overpaid bore in his own field? Point taken.
Chapter 11: I'm having difficulty believing that these highly educated, empirically-minded men who rejected the stiff orthodoxy of traditional Catholicism could actually be stupid enough to name their secret organization after Lucifer :[
Chapter 11: Please be aware that Langdon's description of the evolution of "Satan-worship," as such, is near-complete bullshit. Except for the "animal sacrifice" part. Early, primitive Hebrews sacrificed one goat to God as part of their Yom Kippur ritual, and also sent another goat which was symbolically invested with the tribe's sins over a cliff as a sacrifice to Azazel — a rebellious and venal angel whose fall and mortal imprisonment would later be attributed to Satan. Hence, the derivation of the modern term "scapegoat."
Chapter 11: HOLY GOD I TURNED INTO LANGDON FOR A MINUTE THERE DIDN'T I
Chapter 11: A "smear" campaign???? Which presumably involved thumbscrews. Right!
Chapter 11: a kind of sacred Illuminati logo They put it on all their official merchandise.
Chapter 11: They quietly reestablished their scientific brotherhood deep within the Masons — a kind of secret society within a secret society. Then the Illuminati used the worldwide connection of Masonic lodges to spread their influence. Yes, I'm sure this is pure, unvarnished fact. Bush 43 and Rick Warren are actually Illuminati, engaged in a subtle campaign to turn anyone with a thimbleful of brains off all religion permanently. True story.
Chapter 11: The Illuminati took advantage of the infiltration and helped found banks, universities, and industry to finance their ultimate quest. The creation of a single unified world state — a kind of secular New World Order. Grammar: D+. Batshit Conspiracy: B-. Try reading The Illuminatus! Trilogy if you'd like to see people who know big words articulate this widespread horseshit theory in slightly more elaborate (and entertaining) detail. Or, you know. Read the Illuminati Wiki.
Chapter 11: The church claimed Lucifer was a reference to the devil, but the brotherhood insisted Lucifer was intended in its literal Latin meaning — bringer of light. Or Illuminator. What? What does "the church claimed Lucifer was a reference to the devil" mean? A reference where? Made by whom? And just a "reference"? It's his name! In Greek. Jesus. Also, +1 Illuminati, for reading to the end.
Chapter 11: Langdon sat tentatively on a frost-covered chair. [*HISSSSSSSSS*]
Chapter 11: There has been no evidence of their existence for over half a century, and most scholars agree the Illuminati have been defunct for many years. Half a century? That isn't very long. And I thought they went even further underground as the Masons? There's a Masonic lodge right across from the grocery store in my hometown! GASP. Maybe the bright arts of the historical Illuminati showed them that Angels & Demons would one day become an international best-seller, so they preemptively went into hiding as a precaution against dying of shame.
Chapter 11: “Symbols,” Langdon said, “in no way confirm the presence of their original creators.” You'd think one of the most brilliant scientific minds in the world would understand this concept, since his work probably builds on the periodic table — a series of scientific symbols created by a dead Russian scientist in the 19th century. A dead Russian scientist whom he probably doesn't feel compelled to contact via seance every time he irradiates an atom. A dead Russian scientist who was, no doubt, a member of the Illuminati. Why not?
Chapter 12: Oh how I love the nine-line chapters!
Chapter 13: That's not "eclectic," Professor Langdon. That's FORE-SHA-DOW-ING!!!
Chapter 13: He was starting to fuse science and religion... showing that they complement each other in most unanticipated ways. He called the field New Physics. Wow, he was clearly a very creative guy. I would've called it "Illuminattitude."
Chapter 13: Is the removal of the eye meant to be a reference to the Watchers, or 'one-eyed serpents,' who taught humanity all the great arts of Heaven and were cast out by God for their efforts? That would be very depressing, because it would mean that Dan Brown and I have been reading the same books. And I'm not really all that happy about us breathing the same air.
Chapter 14: Her face was unmistakably Italian — not overly beautiful, but possessing full, earthy features that even at twenty yards seemed to exude a raw sensuality. As the air currents buffeted her body, her clothes clung, accentuating her slender torso and small breasts. Keep this semi-restrained character description in mind for later. It will be very important soon — and may, in fact, save your life.
Chapter 14: The ancient Buddhist art of meditative stretching seemed an odd proficiency for the physicist daughter of a Catholic priest. Do you think Brown's prose killed any editor foolhardy enough to be seduced by its elementary-school badness, like a corpse flower that dangles prepositions instead of strings of stinky nectar? Also: Why? A lot of people do yoga. Few regard it as a form of religion.
Chapter 14: Langdon watched Vittoria approach. She had obviously been crying, her deep sable eyes filled with emotions Langdon could not place. Maybe grief? Just a guess. Still, she moved toward them with fire and command. Her limbs were strong and toned, radiating the healthy luminescence of Mediterranean flesh that had enjoyed long hours in the sun. Yuck! I mean: Mmmmm, bacon.
Chapter 15: Okay, this is getting creepy.
Chapter 15: If Brown heaps many more sympathetic events upon Langdon's clueless shoulders, he's going to acquire the stigmata, turn into Jesus, and ascend like St. Francis.
Chapter 15: Harvard’s Poet in Residence, a quiet man named Charles Pratt, did not look impressed. “It sounds to me,” he said, “like a rather Neanderthal approach to science... akin to smashing clocks together to discern their internal workings.” Well, I'm no poet, but it sounds more like smashing clocks together in an attempt to discern the physical mechanism of time. And about as likely to work. But hey.
Chapter 15: I'm glad Langdon is so unbelievably stupid; without him, this could get mighty boring.
Chapter 15: Kohler shrugged. “Sometimes to find truth, one must move mountains.” Kohler should stop alluding to the Bible. Damages the credibility. And the kidneys, eventually.
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The FORE-SHA-DOW-ING!!! comes from the beautiful, long-lost X/1999 Handpuppet Theatre, where it was used to describe the hamfisted imagery of the Christian apocalypse mercilessly deployed by world-famous mangaka CLAMP in the service of, I think, inspiring BL fanfic. Maybe. It was kind of hard to tell. (Speaking of which: Has anyone ever seen CLAMP and Dan Brown together in a room? Just saying.)
A good source for untainted non-religious angel-knowledge is Angels : An Endangered Species by Malcolm Godwin. If you can't read Hebrew and don't plan to learn, this book is one of your best shots at third-party instruction without having bullshit directly applied to your naked eyeballs. Half the quotation marks are backwards, for some reason, and there's a slightly retarded section on extra-terrestrials and astral projection that can be easily skipped, but this is one of my favorite reference texts on any subject.
