Chapter 16
Ah, that's better. A chapter that takes longer to read than a Daily Mail editorial, but without the sense of lava and excrement bursting out of Paul Dacre's tearducts.
Turns out the renowned curator was something of a dodgy character, although the precise nature of his dodginess is left hanging for the moment, which encourages the reader's mind to race a little. Transvestite? Nazi? Author of conspiracy-theory thrillers? We also discover that Sophie is an orphan, and that it was her grandfather who encouraged her in the code-cracking skills that led to her current profession.
And, of course, we find that Saunière knew of the danger that he was in. The plot thickens, but very slowly. Like when you put a teeny, teeny bit of oil into the eggs when you're making mayonnaise.
They're still in the toilet, by the way. Any moment now, Fache is going to come round with some ExLax.
Incidentally, what exactly is a "graduate university"?
Turns out the renowned curator was something of a dodgy character, although the precise nature of his dodginess is left hanging for the moment, which encourages the reader's mind to race a little. Transvestite? Nazi? Author of conspiracy-theory thrillers? We also discover that Sophie is an orphan, and that it was her grandfather who encouraged her in the code-cracking skills that led to her current profession.
And, of course, we find that Saunière knew of the danger that he was in. The plot thickens, but very slowly. Like when you put a teeny, teeny bit of oil into the eggs when you're making mayonnaise.
They're still in the toilet, by the way. Any moment now, Fache is going to come round with some ExLax.
Incidentally, what exactly is a "graduate university"?
posted by Tim F at 6:15 am
5 Comments:
I hate to break it to you, Tim, but they spend the rest of the novel in the louvre-loo. There's a tense moment where they hide in one of the stalls standing on the seat, they decode some obscene graffiti, then the taps break and the drain clogs with paper towels...
"I Fache arses. Who Faches arse? Maybe he Faches arses..."
Langdon: I have a heart condition. If you hit me, it's murder.
Sophie: I'll murder the pair of yoouse!
...
Her "graduate university" was Royal University. I know some people who went there. They don't do advanced codebreaking courses more's the pity.
Joel - your version sounds pretty interesting.
I did actually laugh out loud half-way through the chapter when I realised they were STILL in the toilet.
Joel: Your version also sounds much cheaper.
Wan: Should that not be "moider"?
Billy: Leaving aside the slightly pedantic fact that Royal Holloway isn't a university in its own right (I wrote an article about this in the Grauniad, way back in the days when we had a Tory govt, and they still haven't sorted it out, cuh), who the hell refers to it as a "graduate university"? Americans might say "grad school", but otherwise you're doing a postgrad degree, or something like that.
Spin: I'm just waiting for a big fat Frenchman (Gerard Depardieu?) to come out of one of the stalls saying "Sacre bleu, you don't want to go in there for a few minutes."
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