Brown commits one of the biggest sins in fiction. Info dumping. Seriously, the characters are either scurrying around or talking endlessly. I began fantasizing about Silas The Killer Albino shooting one of them just so they'd shut up already.
My coworkers asked me if it was the "bestseller" label turning me off. I said, no. I mean, I've read many bestsellers that I thought were excellent reads (see: Tess Gerritsen). This was just boring. Really bloody boring. I'm sorry people, not getting the sheer majesty of it.
I've had about 24 hours to contemplate my reaction to it, and here are my developing theories:
- It's a better book to "read" than to "listen" to.
- I liked the identity of the bad guy. Truly. It just took forever to get there. I suspect other people feel this way and "forgave" Brown the sagging beginning and middle because the ending is good. Nothing wrong with this. I felt this way about Patricia Cornwell's last book (Predator).
- It's the kind of book that makes people feel "smart," yet it's still readable. Lots of European locales and endless talk about art and religion. Plus there aren't a lot of confusing "big words" and flowery description to bog the reader down.
Next audio book? I started Twelve Sharp by Janet Evanovich this morning.