Blame It On Dante

It's Dante's fault. Really. Actually it's Dan Brown's fault. Ok, it's my fault. I apologize for no posts so far this week, but I am trying to pin it on someone else. Dan Brown's new novel is Inferno, whose central character (other than Robert Langdon, of course) is 100 Cantos of pure literary genius--the Divine Comedy. And more specifically, the first 33 Cantos, otherwise known as Inferno. 

I know, I know. Dan Brown is no friend of the Church, and sadly that hasn't changed in this book. But he can write a cheesy page turner that weaves in art, history, architecture, literature, and some of my favorite cities like no one else--at least no one else I've read. High literature it is not. The plot, like others before, is wacky and extremely far-fetched. A lark! But I quite enjoyed it. It's fiction, people!  No matter what the author himself claims. Call it a guilty pleasure.  

I will soon return to the great book, resuming our trek through the Bible--restarting at the Book of Tobit.