Bob, of the Republic of Virtue, is finally attempting to read that book:
...until I actually read this trash for myself none of my criticisms will hold any water with the kids. Amazing how they will believe the undocumented, utterly baseless slop that Dan Brown puts out in blatant defiance of the historical record, but when I'm citing the likes of Sandra Meisel and asserting completely undisputed facts, I'm the one who has to meet the burden of proof.
One of the reasons I would personally not mind taking a shot at Dan Brown in a dunk tank is that for some reason his fictional albino assassin monk has become a character in my husband's strange inner world: "Hi, hubby, how was your day?" "Not too bad. Saw Silas on the Metro, he says hi. He also says you should make me steak for dinner every night, and lobster on Friday." "Silas told me to buy these books or else." "I met so-and-so for lunch, and Silas showed up too."
I'm not sure what it says about me that I'm married to a man whose imaginary friend is a menacing albino assassin monk.