God
the Poppa
by Christine McCarthy McMorris
On March 18, 2003, Stephen Rubin, president and
publisher of Doubleday Broadway, sent 10,000 advance copies of a book by an
unknown author to booksellers and the media, hoping to create an instant
energy jolt for a publishing industry on the ropes. His author, a former
English teacher at a New Hampshire prep school, was Dan Brown; the book,
The Da Vinci Code.
A month later, Rubin told Bill Goldstein of the New
York Times that he was “pleasantly surprised” when the novel debuted at
number one on the Times’ bestseller list.
One year later, that surprise had escalated into shock
and awe. The Da Vinci Code has remained on most bestseller lists,
much of the time at number one, and has sold over 5.5 million copies—a feat
only bested in 2003 by J. K. Rowland’s keenly anticipated fifth installment
of the Harry Potter series. Beyond this purely mercantile bonanza, The Da
Vinci Code has invaded popular culture, inspiring cover stories in
Time and Newsweek, dominating reading groups, discussion classes
at churches and libraries, and picking up a $6 million dollar movie option
from Sony Pictures.
Is it just, as Sherryl Connelly wrote in New York’s
Daily News on March 16, the novel’s uncanny ability to “shock the
faithful and entertain everyone else?” Or, as the Catholic Church and
evangelical Christians would eventually come to believe, was there a
genuinely radical spiritual message to be found somewhere in between the car
chases and the puzzles?
Initial reviews of The Da Vinci Code spoke with
one voice in their praise of what they perceived as a thriller/mystery in
the vein of Robert Ludlum or Tom Clancy, that mixed together early Christian
history, secret messages in the art of Leonardo Da Vinci, and a Harvard
symbology professor (Robert Langdon) caught up in a murder investigation in
Paris. On March 17, 2003, Janet Maslin in the New York Times called
it a “gleefully erudite suspense novel.” “Are you a paranoid plot-seeker?
You’ll love this,” wrote Terry Tazioli a few days later in the Seattle
Times.
Reviewers saw the novel’s premise—that for 2,000 years
the Church conspired to hide Mary Magdalene’s marriage to Jesus—as what
Alfred Hitchcock called the “MacGuffin,”—the ultimately irrelevant plot
point around which a mystery is spun out. It is clear that these early
reviews treated Brown’s bestseller as fiction, pure and simple.
Early last summer, The Da Vinci Code still stood
firmly atop bestseller lists. Countless newspapers recommended it as the
perfect vacation read, from the Hartford Courant (“blends esoteric
Catholic lore with contemporary gore”) to the Birmingham News (“a
very good mystery”) to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution (“a beach
book with brains”).
Not to say that there were no skeptics willing to speak
out. On June 19, Cynthia Grenier of United Press International wrote, “Ban
Harry Potter all right, but raise a voice against a book that claims Jesus
Christ selected a woman to carry forth his mission on earth? Forget it.”
Kathleen Parker’s column in the Orlando Journal Sentinel
characterized the novel’s celebration of the goddess as nothing more than “oogedy-boogedy.”
And author Stephen King, in his premiere column for Entertainment Weekly
August 8, called Dan Brown’s work “drek.”
But as the summer passed, reporters began to detect an
interesting phenomenon: Women and younger readers were thronging to read a
book in a genre (thriller) which is usually geared to middle-aged men. Many
were fascinated by Brown’s portrayal of Mary Magdalene as Jesus’ chosen
partner, the ultimate example of the “sacred feminine” marginalized
throughout church history. For readers not already in the know, The Da
Vinci Code revealed that Mary Magdalene was not a prostitute, as decreed
by Pope Gregory the Great in 591, but a well-to-do supporter of Jesus. (In
1969 the Vatican publicly came to the same conclusion.)
However, it is doubtful that the Vatican would concur
with Dan Brown’s other “uncovered truths” about Mary Magdalene. First there
was the claim by second and third century non-biblical texts (Gnostic
gospels) that Mary Magdalene was Jesus’ favored apostle. Second, the age-old
rumor, most recently laid out in the 1982 book Holy Blood, Holy Grail
by Michael Baignet, Henry Lincoln, and Richard Leigh, that Jesus and Mary
Magdalene were not only married, but produced a daughter.
“Mary Magdalene is back,” exclaimed reporter Roxanne
Roberts in the July 20 Washington Post. Roberts made clear the
connection between casting Mary Magdalene as an apostle equal to Paul and
the aspirations of women to take a greater role in their churches. Novelist
Margaret George, who wrote Mary, Called Magdalene, told Roberts that
Jesus’ companion had now become “the poster girl for womens’ ordination.”
By September, book groups, libraries, and church
meetings found overflow audiences wanting to know more about the book that
kept them up all night. On September 28, the Dallas Morning News
described one of many such evenings: Roy Heller, assistant professor at
Southern Methodist University, scheduled a biblical analysis of The Da
Vinci Code at a local Episcopal church. “They expected that 30 people
would show up…More than 500 did.”
September also saw some rumbling against the mostly
positive media spin that Dan Brown had enjoyed for six months. On September
1, San Francisco Chronicle art critic Kenneth Baker wrote that the
idea of Leonardo hiding clues about Mary Magdalene in his paintings was “wiggy.”
William Safire, jumping on Brown’s definitions of words from pagan to sub
rosa, snickered in his New York Times Magazine column December 28,
“The Oxford English Dictionary disagrees.”
More significantly, Catholic newspapers suddenly
noticed that many Americans regarded The Da Vinci Code as more than
just a good read. In Crisis magazine, veteran Catholic reporter
Sandra Miesel wrote a lengthy point-by-point attack that accused Brown of
producing a “poorly written, atrociously researched mess.”
But it was the ABC news special “Jesus, Mary and da
Vinci,” a one-hour “sweeps week” investigation of the novel’s theories that
aired November 3, which provoked the major media backlash. With Elizabeth
Vargas as on-air reporter, the special was anything but hard news, relying
heavily on evocative music and vague statements like “What if we told you”
and “I guess we’ll never really know.”
Interestingly, two of the experts interviewed were
scholars whose new books would ride the crest of The Da Vinci Code to
become bestsellers: Elaine Pagels (Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of
Thomas), and Karen King (The Gospel of Mary of Magdala; Jesus and the
First Woman Apostle). While both credited The Code with exploring
the role of women in early Christianity, neither bought the premise of a
married Jesus.
If, up to then, attacks on The Da Vinci Code had
been muted, the response to ABC’s “investigative report” was visceral. Even
before it aired, Ray Flynn, president of the policy group Your Catholic
Voice and former mayor of Boston, told the Boston Globe the upcoming
special represented “an all-time low in offending Christians.”
The conservative Catholic order Opus Dei was
understandably put out at being cast as the book’s evil empire (complete
with a murderous albino monk with a taste for self-flagellation). A fact
sheet posted on its website (www.opusdei.org)
reassured readers that the book’s “bizarre depiction of Opus Dei is
inaccurate.” While calling the monk’s behavior “exaggerated,” the site
explained, “Those who seek to advance in Christian perfection must mortify
themselves more than ordinary believers are required to do.”
Journalists, in particular religion writers, took note.
A few examples of articles challenging The Da Vinci
Code in the wake of the ABC special were The Washington Times
(“Married Jesus Breaks the Code”), the Associated Press (“Was Jesus Married?
A Novel and ABC News Erase the Line Between Fiction and Fact”), and The
Christian Science Monitor (“Who Was Mary Magdalene? The Buzz Goes
Mainstream”).
While Monitor staff writer Jane Lampman’s piece
dismissed the Jesus/Mary ménage, it offered another explanation for the
novel’s incredible success. Ben Witherington III, professor at Asbury
Theological Seminary told Lampman, “America is a Jesus-haunted culture, but
at the same time it is biblically illiterate. When you have that odd
combination, almost anything can pass for knowledge of the historical
Jesus.”
A smaller number of journalists and clergy wondered if
it was fair to hold what was, after all, a novel, to the rigors of
historical truth. Steve Maynard of the Tacoma News Tribune reported
on January 2, for example, that the Rev. David Norland, associate pastor at
Emmanuel Lutheran Church in Tacoma, was comfortable making the distinction
between “a good piece of fiction” and “bad, bad theology.”
Part of the responsibility for the confusion must land
at the door of Dan Brown, who told Linda Wertheimer on NPR’s Weekend
Edition April 26, “The only thing fictional is the characters and the
action that takes place. All of the locations, the paintings, the ancient
history, the secret documents, the rituals, all of this is factual.”
Wertheimer let that drop unchallenged.
In spite—or because—of the growing controversy,
Newsweek ran a cover package December 8 in which religion writer Kenneth
L. Woodward worried that “the danger is that feminist ideology will
overreach the text.” A sidebar, “Decoding The Da Vinci Code,”
validated some of the book’s theories and dashed others. An associated
feature, “The Bible’s Lost Stories,” gave credit to Brown for popularizing
the trend among scholars to research overlooked women in the Bible, from
Mary Magdalene to the Old Testament figure Judith, who saved Jerusalem by
beheading an enemy general.
Newsweek emphasized that many biblical scholars
and feminists did not find The Da Vinci Code’s tale of a romantic
relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene to be convincing—or necessary.
“Let’s not continue the relentless denigration of Mary Magdalene by reducing
her only importance to a sexual connection with Jesus,” declared John
Dominic Crossan, professor emeritus of religious studies at DePaul
University in Chicago. “She’s not important because she was Mrs. Jesus.”
For their part, evangelical Christians woke up to the
debate after the turn of the year, with Christianity Today establishing an
anti-Da Vinci Code section on their website (www.christianitytoday.com).
On February 16, Darrell Bock, professor at the Dallas Theology Seminary,
told Julia Dunn of the Washington Times that the book “is an attempt
to reshape our culture and our Christian beliefs.” Bock’s own “counterpunch”
can be found in his book, Breaking The Da Vinci Code: Answers to
the Questions Everybody’s Asking, which was released in April.
As The Da Vinci Code wrapped up 12 months (and
counting) at the top of the bestseller lists, a new question popped up in
the media: What had made it so successful? Explanations fell into different
camps.
Elizabeth A. Johnson, a Fordham University professor,
was one of many who found the reason in a widespread distrust of the
Catholic hierarchy: “In light of the sex abuse scandal, most in the Catholic
Church would not put it past the Vatican to suppress [controversial
issues],” she told the Los Angeles Daily News on February 1.
Others saw the book’s success as evidence that
prejudice against Catholicism is still alive and well. Writing in The New
Republic March 2, Jennifer C. Braceras claimed, “Brown’s portrayal of
Catholic teachings and the Church as an institution reinforce the perverse
stereotype of Catholicism as a bizarre cult.”
The majority of articles, however, put the novel’s
phenomenal impact down to its re-imagining of Jesus as a husband and father,
and Mary Magdalene as a spiritual leader. Novelist Sue Monk Kidd, whose
bestseller The Secret Life of Bees paid tribute to the black Madonna,
was asked by Amy Wilson in the Orange County Register why the
reclaiming of female spiritual figures had such a wide appeal. “Because what
we do not value in God,” she answered, “we do not value in our culture.”•
|