Published reviews of Inferno were generally negative. One reviewer wrote,“It is
hard to explain his [Brown’s] record-breaking popularity,” citing New Yorker comments
about “dead” dialog and writing without distinction (Bush 36). Other reviewers
acknowledged the success of the techniques that Brown uses to package a popular
novel. He continuously “peels the onion,” presenting pieces of the puzzle, clues, or brief
bits of information to engage the readers. Chapters are short (3-4 pages, 750- 1000
words). This disclosure of “novelistic nanobytes,” tweets, and verbal emoticons can
occasionally lead to a significant leap in the number of clues or actions, while plot
development becomes tighter as more clues are released. In effect, the clues and the
plot have a symbiotic relationship—the plot cannot develop without being shored up by
numerous static and actionable clues.
Repetition is a key tactic that Brown uses to move along the story. For Brown’s
Inferno is a story with a moral, similar to that of Dante’s Inferno which is comprised of
cascading stories with specific, detailed morality lessons culminating in a single moral
outcome—Satan at the bottom of the descent, but with a sanctioned pathway to
redemption and salvation. Traditional oral narratives use repetition of phrases, themes,
or dialog so that the listener comprehends the account to create a credible whole—a
shared understanding of the “rest of the story.” Repetition is characteristic of the oral
tradition, but its continuous use in Brown’s Inferno reflects internal comments by Robert
Langdon and other characters that add little to the novel’s pace. Often these comments
lead to or are a part of “cliffhangers” that skip from chapter to chapter.
Character or Plot? Amazingly, what often attracts people to popular literature is
a defined protagonist whose characterization is well developed. But in the Robert
Langdon series, that development is not possible because the focus is on solving a
modern mystery in atmospheric, medieval settings—in a highly compressed period of
time. At first, Langdon is not even sure what he is being pressed to solve, but the power
of the chase overrides any psychological development. The little that we know about
Langdon (claustrophobic, loves his Harris tweeds and antique Mickey Mouse watch)
comes from cinematic portrayals of a likeable, approachable, erudite but practical
professor who has enough freedom to fit in brief mysterious academic escapades while
still teaching at a prestigious school. Instead, the reader is immediately drawn into
dramatic descriptions of medieval Italian art, history, and culture (which he or she
should know, but does not) that create a backdrop for a brilliant and mysterious female
assistant, diabolical stormtrooper-like assassins and henchmen, chase scenes, and
shadowy underworld characters. The art, history, architecture, and travels from
Florence to Venice to Istanbul create a vivid, detailed travelogue. However, the
repetition of the technique can slow the plot’s movement, even though some of the
background provides critical clues.
An interesting twist on the scarcity of character development surrounds Zobrist,
the eccentric, villainous, visionary scientist who embraced Dante’s works to become the
proposed salvation for earth’s Malthusian apocalypse. From a developmental
perspective, the character most closely associated with Inferno is Zobrist since he
seldom appears without making reference to the poem (Parker and Parker 178).
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