Tutankhamun- The Exodus Conspiracy

What do you get when you mix British colonialism, Oriental mystery and the occult? Questionable history and a stonking good story, that's what. (Dashed horrible cover, though. Bad early-noughties' CG married with overly dramatic use of religious symbolism? No thanks.) Tutankhamun- The Exodus Conspiracy is at least partly a retelling of one of the classic tales of discovery. True to form, the details of the case make fascinating reading, even disregarding the authors' bizarre claims in the latter half of the book.

Cast your mind back to Egypt at the beginning of the twentieth century. As western countries became more rational, they increasingly needed to view the East as somewhere strange and Other. Life at home may have had all the mystery sucked out of it long ago, but elsewhere- the inscrutable Orient- were lands where the impossible could still happen. To men like Howard Carter and Lord Canarvon, Egypt was still a land of myth and mystery. And it was here, amid the burning sands of the desolate Valley of the Kings, that an extraordinary narrative was about to unfold.

Talk about having your cake and eating it too- the authors behind The Exodus Conspiracy cram in various (and sometimes tenously connected) aspects of the Tutankhamun story, each fascinating in its own way. So, the story of Canarvon funding just one more year's dig (after several fruitless seasons) resulting in Carter's lifelong dream coming true's not enough for you? How about Carter's personal and moral struggles against ruthless pressmen and Arab beaurocrats who (quite rightly, to be honest!) had the nerve to suggest that maybe the priceless treasures of Egypt shouldn't go directly to the British Museum? How about Carter's secret entering and resealing of the burial chamber three months before the official opening? What? You want more? I haven't even gotten to the curse yet!

Authors Collins and Ogilvie-Herald place this classic tale of discovery where they feel it belongs- squarely in the occult-obsessed culture of the upper-class Brits of the time. Belief in weird things was still common as tables floated in darkened parlours all over London and Paris. Lord Canarvon in particular is painted as having been strongly influenced by the occult. He held seances in his Gothic castle in England. He visited several psychics and mystics, some of whom warned him that if he continued desecrating tombs, he would never leave Egypt alive again... Several famous occult figures of the time turn out to have been linked to him- even old A. C. Doyle found time to comment on his doings in Egypt. And all the while, newsmen spun tales of creeping dread that preyed on Canarvon's mind. A popular fiction in newspapers of the time stated that 'death shall come on swift wings to he who disturbs the rest of the Pharoah'.

In this atmosphere, the 'curse' of Tutankhamun seems almost like the next logical step. Canarvon seems like the kind of man who would have taken such things rather seriously. By the time he dies from an infected mosquito-bite in a Cairo hotel room, raving that 'a bird' is scratching his face (and during a mysterious blackout, to boot!), you'll begin to wonder if there isn't something to this 'curse' nonesense after all. Even Carter, who famously scoffed at the curse till his dying day, turns out to have had his moments of private uncertainty and fear.

Perhaps I'm giving the wrong impression. The authors aren't writing to convince you that the curse was real- they spend quite a few pages trying to explain how several deaths associated with the tomb could have more logical explanations. But the fact remains that its a damn weird story, and some of the coincidences are very striking. But that's how conspiracy theorists think, and we're not here to read about them. Or are we?

Well, hold onto your pith helmets, because this is where things start to get really weird. I'm not going to get into it here (this review is damn-near long enough already), so if you want to read about how Tutankhamun was also the Pharoah from the Exodus story, you'll have to track this book down yourself. And if you're a conspiracy theorist who'd love to know about how Carter tried to blackmail the British authorities regarding the controversial birth of the Nation of Israel, then put on your tinfoil hat and head off to some other blog.

Da Vinci Code Knock-Offs

I love obvious rip-offs- especially the ones that really don't even try to hide that they're rip-offs. I wonder if low-budget meisters The Asylum, for example, hope that some granny who doesn't know any better will buy a copy of their movie Transmorphers for her grandson, thinking it's Transformers. Perhaps one day I'll give this subject the attention it deserves and write an entire article about The Asylum, or even the endless Italian Mad Max/Escape from New York rip-offs from the 70's and 80's.

But that'll be a big job. For now, I'll just describe briefly a trend in rip-offs that I've noticed over the last few years- Da Vinci Code rip-offs. It seems that since 2003, every bookshop has been obliged by law to carry at least a truckload of these damn things. So I decided to make a list of every title I could find in the Cork area. I didn't have to look too far. Many bookshops even helpfully lump them together on the same shelf, regardless of author.

I am not including 'factual' books that have been written to cash in on the success of the Da Vinci Code. There's lots of them out there, each promising 'revelations' that will rock the Church to its very blah blah blah. They're a different, though definitely related subject. I am including fiction that was written or published before the Da Vinci Code, but was re-published with new titles or covers to cash in. These aren't rip-offs, but are being marketed as such.

So- what do these books have in common? I'm assigning a 'points' system to analyze this issue in the true depth it obviously deserves. While many of the aspects listed below are also features of paperback thrillers in general, I feel that enough of them are specific enough to help separate 'Da Vinci Code Rip-Offs' as their own sub-genre.

1) They will feature a secret or conspiracy from ancient or medieval history. (2 points)

2) The conspiracy will 'rock' the (usually Catholic) Church 'to it's foundations'. (5 points)

3) Various famous and interesting artists and scientists from history will be implicated in this conspiracy. (3 points)

4) Cutting-edge modern technology (often genetics) will be used to help uncover these secrets from the past. (2 points)

5) THE FRIGGIN' TEMPLARS. THAT IS ALL. (20 POINTS)

5) The main character will be an expert in some field relevant to the conspiracy (more often than not an archaeologist). He will be male, and an American. (3 points)

6) He will travel to various exotic locations around the world, with Rome or the Vatican almost always being on the itinerary. (5 points)

7) The prologue will take place hundreds of years in the past, usually in Rome or the Vatican (sometimes elsewhere in Italy). (5 points)

8) The cover will show
- an age-old scroll or parchment (10 points)
- a wax seal (3 points)
- some Christian iconography (3 points)
- the inside of a church or cathedral with a row of cowled monks (5 points)
-prominently-placed Templars (20 points)

9) The title of the book will have three words, including the words 'the' and 'code'. ( 10 points)

Pretty good, eh? From now on, you can rate every book you read and find out how Dan Brown-ish it is. Hell, on this scale, even that navel-gazing tripe-bucket The Secret gets an 18-point rating (largely on account of the thumping HUGE wax seal on the cover), and the Old Testament itself gets a whopping 15 points! There's a little Dan Brown in us all, I guess.

Anyway, here's the list-

The Messiah Code- Michael Cordy
The Genesis Code- John Case
The Gaudi Key- Esteban Martin & Andreu Carranza
The Sacred Bones- Michael Byrnes
The Judas Strain- James Rollins
The Gospel of Judas- Kasser & Mayer
The Last Gospel- David Gibbons
The Last Templar- Raymond Khoury
The Last Testament- Sam Bourne
The Sanctuary- Raymond Khoury
The Righteous Men- Sam Bourne
The Templar Legacy- Steve Berry
The Alexandria Link- Steve Berry
The Venetian Betrayal- Steve Berry
The Shakespeare Secret- Jennifer Lee Carrell
The Sign of the Cross- Chris Kuzneski
The Assassini- Thomas Gifford
Garden of Evil- Mayer
Crusader Gold- David Gibbins

Dios mio!

The Big Pendulum

When it comes to literary (or film) criticism, one can present incredible interpretations of the text in question without ever assuming that this is how the original author intended it to be interpreted. A sterling example is found in an article called 'The Return of Hobbes' by a chap named Galvin P. Chow (Google it, do I have to do everything myself?). This postulates that Hobbes from Calvin & Hobbes is somehow the same character as Tyler Durden from Fight Club. At first you think 'uh-huh, right' but then after reading some of it you realize that it's making sense, and by the end of the article, you're thinking 'damn it, that sounds downright plausible!' Chow piles on the evidence, and once you start to regard the issue correctly, the similarities become almost unavoidable.

Now, do I reckon that Bill Watterson or David Fincher really intended their works to be seen this way?

Come on.

Chow so expertly teases aspects of both works, re-moulding them according to his own wants, that he is able to convince us that there was an intended connection where in fact there must have been none (perhaps this is how conspiracy theories get started. But I am getting ahead of myself). This is a large part of how literary criticism seems to work. In school, while doing my Leaving Cert, I was often told that I could take any stance on a novel when writing an essay, as long as I backed up my idea with evidence and examples from the text. Any stance. Any text. There's a wide sargasso sea of potential stupid ideas right there.

Dipping my toes into this sea, I will begin by noting what I see as some bizarre similarities between The Big Lebowski, and the book Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco. Yeah, you know The Big Lebowski, and if you don't, boy have you come to the wrong place.

Foucault's Pendulum, on the other hand... I will understand if you don't. It's a large, complex, demanding book about Italian magazine editors who concoct a super-conspiracy theory (told you I'd get around to them) that includes every other such theory ever flaunted. All your old favourites are trotted out- the Templars, the Jesuits, the Nazis, the Rosicrucians, Count St. Germaine, etc (Tellingly, Eco is even more fond of lists than I am). It's been described as 'the thinking man's Da Vinci Code'.

To be honest, this book will probably ruin conspiracy theories for you forever. The joke is that though the book deals with every conspiracy theory ever hatched (pre David Ike) with more detail and accuracy than you'll find (or want to find) anywhere else, he still understands that it's all nonsense. The reader is drawn into the narrator's paranoid way of thinking as the characters begin to believe their own hype. They find connections between events that can only (to their fevered imaginations) be explained by a vast, all-encompassing Plan. And yet we the reader know it's applesauce. The conspiracy theorist's mind, and his reasons for believing, are examined so convincingly that you'll never be able to take another 911-truther seriously again (if you ever did anyway).

Phew. All of which is a long way from the Dude and his soiled rug. Or is it?

Consider. Both deal with three middle-aged (or nearly middle-aged) guys who hang out together because they have too much free time, and have few other meaningful relationships in their lives. In Lebowski, the trio are the Dude, Walter and Donny. Dude is the laid-back main character. Walter is an angry, offense-taking overgrown child who is obsessed with being Jewish, though his racial background suggests otherwise. Though Donny does very little, he does serve a purpose (through his death, hard cheese). The Dude and Walter do not share one scene together in which they do not fight or fail to communicate with each other. Donny's 'funeral' is one of the only scenes where we realize that they really do care for each other. And though we may have suspected it throughout the film, the lack of anybody else at this pitiful ceremony shows for sure that these three guys (now two) are the only close friends or family any of them have. It's a touching (and hilarious) scene.

In Pendulum, our trio consist of Casaubon, Belbo and Diotallevi. Though a bit younger than the others, and a dab hand with the ladies, narrator Casaubon is still rather detached from society. He drifts further and further from his girlfriend as the three become immersed in their obsessive creation, the Plan. It is clear that until meeting the other two, he has never been so challenged or stimulated intellectually. Belbo is arguably the main character- his twisted genius drives the creation of the Plan, and his cynicism makes him the most laid-back of the three (though we do eventually find out that this is a front). He has few close aquaintences besides the other two, and he seems more or less okay with this. Diotallevi is the quiet, abused one, though a direct comparison with Donny would perhaps be unfair to him. However, the kicker here is that he is obsessed with being Jewish, despite his racial background. In his own case, it stems from his being a foundling. In his need for identity, he watches his Jewish neighbours preparing for Shomor Shabbas (which Walter is also obsessed with) the night before, longing to take part. In any case, both texts deal with the friendship and need between a trio of men who, unusually for their stage in life, have no other strong relationships.

Both the Dude and Walter are obviously products of the 60's- the Dude represents the hippie generation with his take-it-easy attitude and his history of protest, sit-ins and dope-smoking. Walter represents the other side of the same coin- obsessed with rules, firearms and Vietnam, he is everything the Dude stood against at that time. But they seem to get on fine.

Similarly, Belbo and co. have their background in the student politics of the 60's. Belbo and Casaubon first meet at a student protest during this time. Back then, they chanted slogans and marched, and got chased by the police. The only difference is their cynicism to the ideals of this era. Really, they take part in this stuff because they feel it is expected of them, or because they think they will pick up girls. Still, the connection is noticeable.

There is also the film noir element. I've already mentioned that Lebowski is basically a subversion of Chandler (a few scenes and plot elements are robbed from The Big Sleep, in particular), with the Dude as a clueless stand-in for Philip Marlowe. Dirty dealings, red herrings, L.A. setting- all present and correct. In Pendulum, Casaubon actively compares himeslf to noir heroes Sam Spade and Marlowe on more than one occasion.

Perhaps the final similarity is how the plots of both texts stem from misconceptions. In both cases, events quickly spiral out of control in terms of complexity, with a conspicuous nothing at the centre. In Lebowsky, all the characters believe there has been a kidnapping, and a twisted trail of deception develops around it precisely because nobody knows what's going on (it's a pastiche of the LA-set Chandler novels). Of course, there was no kidnapping. Eventually, one of the characters (Donny) dies, arguably as a result of the stress and excitement of where their adventure finally takes them. The script could have had him shot by the nihilists, but instead points out that it was a heart attack. We'll never know if he died as a result of the events of the movie, or if it was something that might just have happened anyway.

In Pendulum, the trio at first construct the Plan as a joke, knowing it is false, but slowly become convinced of its veracity, as do several other nefarious characters. These troublemakers assume that Belbo and his friends must know something because they refuse to tell (of course there is nothing to tell, the plan is false). By the same token, Belbo figures that the Plan must be real because these people already take it seriously. In both cases there is a case of 'much ado about nothing'. Towards the end, one of the trio (again, Diotallevi, the quiet one) dies. He contracts cancer, again something which may have happened naturally, but which he in his obsession views as somehow being caused by their association with the Plan. Convinced?

Perhaps the ability to make such comparisons between such disparate works is possible because any decent book, film, or whatever that's had any modicum of thought put into it will have some deep or fascinating ideas that can be easily hijacked to grind one's own personal axe on.