The DaVinci Code

I've always been able to fall into a book like diving into a pond, surfacing only when, like a fish on the line, I've been rudely yanked out of it. Such is what happened to me this weekend.

After waiting for the hype to die down, the WCM & I got on the library waiting list for the book. After picking it up, the WCM asked if I'd like to read it first. A kind gesture, considering it was reserved in his name, and he'd been the one to go fetch it. I demurred, feeling that some kindness was in order - after all, he'd done all the legwork. He asked again, and I believe his words ran along the lines of "I don't want to start reading this book and then have you take it and refuse to give it back to me when I'm ready to read another few chapters."

Well, damned if that didn't happen.

See, I read quickly and voraciously. I plunge in, face-first, eagerly gobbling up the text, emerging only at the end of the verbal gorge-fest, a few hours later. The WCM reads a few chapters at a time and can take days to finish a book. He's a snacker. I'm a binge-eater. Hmmm. I see a pattern.

Anyhow, after he'd read a few chapters, I was overcome with book lust. I discreetly absconded upstairs with the book, under the pretext of bathing Miss Peanut, and promptly slipped under the surface of the page into the Stygian abyss of religious mythology, pagan symbolism, and the desperation of long-held secrets. I was pulled out, blinking and disoriented when the WCM came up for bed and tried to claim the book.

"Oh, hell no!" was my reaction, and I let the man know in no uncertain terms that if he tried to wrest the book from my grasp, the Hoobity would be indefinitely suspended. You know, good things come to those who wait, patience is a virtue, so sayeth the Lord, Amen, and he let me continue reading.

I finished the buffet, er, book at 11:50 pm, nearly having langorously drowned in Dan Brown's plot and prose. I truly had savored every last twist and turn (although I had called a couple of them myself). Gasping for air, like the proverbial landed fish, I hugged the book to my bosom, vowing to buy my own copy.

You know, it wasn't about a certain Plantagenet King or any red-headed Scotsman and his surgeon wife, but it was just as consuming and enthralling a read. I highly recommend it.

One caveat - don't start reading it in the evening - you'll want to devote the day to devouring it in one gluttonous gulp, as I did.