The Da Vinci Code and seperating fact from fiction

I saw The Da Vinci Code this weekend, and despite it being badly reviewed by the critics, it scored big with movie-goers in its debut at the box office.

I’ve never been one to let critics influence my movie choice (how else do I explain Spice World?), but it turns out that the critics were right. The movie was slow and lacked the fast-paced thrills in the book that kept me up until 4 a.m. on a weeknight and tempted me to pull an all-nighter to finish it in one sitting. The guy sitting next to me in the theatre must have thought it was a bit slow too, because he was asleep for half of the movie.

For the most part, it was pretty faithful to the book, although I didn’t remember all the details since it had been a couple years since I read it. We went to the nearby Chapters afterwards to compare the movie to the book and found, not surprisingly, a table devoted to The Da Vinci Code. There were even guide books specifically for readers who wanted to follow in the footsteps of the fictional Robert Langdon, which I suppose shouldn’t have been all that unexpected since I’d read an article in the Globe on DVC tourism in Europe. Who actually BUYS these books and guides, though?

I’ll admit that after reading the novel, I googled Opus Dei and the Priory of Scion to satisfy the curiosity that was peaked. And I just had to refer to my old Humanities text to study the print of The Last Supper I knew was there. But I’ve never felt the need to go out and buy the assorted books that have been written to de-bunk Brown’s title, mainly because it’s a work of fiction, first and foremost. While he’s woven-in researched “facts” and “history,” as a writer of fiction, he has a license to change these facts and histories to suit his needs.

J. Peder Zane’s column in The News & Observer argues that “The better known the subject, the more liberties the author may take. A novel about an obscure figure—which may largely shape our memory of the person—must hew closely to the facts.” I love my historical fiction and period films, but not once have I taken what I’ve read or seen as gospel (pardon the pun.) I will often refer to more trusted and reputable sources after a reading or a viewing to try to separate the facts from fiction.

After watching Camille Claudel, a bio-pic that chronicled the relationship between the sculptors Claudel and Rodin, I referred to my old-school Encyclopedia Britannica to read about them. I did the same after reading Jean Plaidy’s The Courts of Love: The Story of Eleanor of Aquitaine, and countless other fictionalized accounts of history. I’ve therefore never understood people who don’t have that curiosity for more knowledge. Maybe it’s because I’ve always had an interest in history that I do this extra homework or maybe I'm just weird that way.