Dante’s Inferno begins with morbid visions of hell that a
now familiar, Harvard iconographer, Robert Langdon experiences lying on a
hospital bed in a city he knows like the back of his hand (of course).
A few
lines into the book, and he meets a beautiful, appealing and spirited woman who
forms a close relationship based on intense events occurring soon after they
meet (that wasn’t too hard to guess, was it?).
Naturally, there’s an object of supreme importance (in
Langdon’s possession again) to the plot that is coveted by powerful men and
women and organisations willing to kill for it. Throw in an epic poem for good
measure, secrets being unearthed from musty scrolls and death masks (yes, this
is new), a breathless race through the beautiful architectural landmarks in
Florence (followed by men in black uniforms and carrying lethal firearms,
obviously), a crazy man planning an apocalypse (hey, with good intentions!) and
you get the repetitive plot that this book is all about.
Unquestionably, Langdon has to save the day with his indepth
knowledge of every city he’s thrown in, every piece of art, known or unknown,
every word of prose or poetry (with correct pronunciations down to the last
damn syllable) right till the end when he elicits a kiss and a promise from the
girl to see him in less testing times. Story over.
Read if Brown’s vivid description of art and architecture,
the fast paced narration through museums and churches and Harris Tweed donning
Langdon intrigues you.
You won’t miss much if you decide to give it a skip.
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