Inferno suffers from the same major problem that many Dan Brown novels have: there is a constant sense of running. Even when a dialogue or an interesting piece of exposition begins, you almost expect someone to start chasing the characters again within a few pages.
Another issue is that the villains always seem to have an obsession with art history, symbols, or obscure intellectual references. I hope one day Robert Langdon ends up dealing with something completely outside his academic comfort zone.
Even the humor feels familiar at this point, and honestly, there is not a single truly striking or emotionally powerful twist in the novel. (The classic “turns out character X was secretly the villain all along” reveal does not really count.)
Without question, Brown’s greatest strength is his descriptive writing. He genuinely makes you feel as if you are running through the streets of Italy alongside the characters. But does every story really need to revolve around saving the world?
No comments:
Post a Comment