I recently found a copy of "Digital Fortress" by that guy who wrote Da Vinci Code lying around. Now as I was a bit tired with writing thesis, I grabbed it and started reading. And I must say - it's the worst book I've read since high school. Well, the worst first few chapters at least, because I couldn't make myself go any further than that.
Now I'm not going to flame it due to having less clue about cryptography than Internet Explorer team about CSS. Or for having absolutely no clue about languages and trying to sound smart by saying random crap about them (yeah, because Chinese-speaking person cannot tell Japanese text for Chinese). What I am going to fflame it is rampant Mary Sue'ism.
Basically the main two characters are Mary Sue and Wesley Crusher. Basically they are simply the most intelligent, cool, popular, beautiful, flawless and what-not characters ever, just because the author was too lame to use realistic characters. I wonder how did he even got someone to publish his book, as far as I can tell he would be banned on average Xena/Gabrielle alt forum writing such crap.
Ok, now the citation time for the Mary Sue:
The guard admired Mary Sue as she began her walk down the cement causeway. He noticed that her strong hazel eyes seemed distanttoday, but her cheeks had a flushed freshness, and hershoulder-length, auburn hair looked newly blown dry. Trailing herwas the faint scent of Johnson's Baby Powder. His eyes fellthe length of her slender torso -- to her white blouse with thebra barely visible beneath, to her knee-length khaki skirt, andfinally to her legs . . . Mary Sue's legs.And the Wesley Crusher:
Hard to imagine they support a 170 IQ, he mused tohimself.
He stared after her a long time. Finally he shook his head ass she disappeared in the distance.
Wesley Crusher. The only man Mary Sue'd ever loved. The youngest full professor at Georgetown University and a brilliant foreign-languageBut of course it's not like the characters do not have any flaws:
specialist, he was practically a celebrity in the world of academia.
Born with an eidetic memory and a love oflanguages, he'd mastered six
Asian dialects as well as Spanish, French, and Italian. His university
lectures on etymology and linguistics were standing-room only, and he
invariably stayedlate to answer a barrage of questions. He spoke with
authority and enthusiasm, apparently oblivious to the adoring gazes of
his star-struck coeds.
Wesley Crusher was dark--a rugged, youthful thirty-five with sharp green eyes
and a wit to match. His strong jaw and taut features reminded Mary of
carved marble. Over six feet tall, Wesley Crusher movedacross a squash court
faster than any of his colleagues couldcomprehend. After soundly
beating his opponent, he would cool off by dousing his head in a
drinking fountain and soaking his tuft ofthick, black hair. Then,
still dripping, he'd treat hisopponent to a fruit shake and a bagel.
In Mary Sue's eyes, Wesley Crusher was as close to perfect as she could imagine. He only had one unfortunate quality; every time they went out, he insisted on picking up the check. Mary Sue hated seeing himlay down a full day's salary on dinner for two, but Wesley Crusher was immovable. Mary Sue learned not to protest, but it still bothered her. I make more money than I know what to do with, she thought. I should be paying.I rest my case.
And I'm not going anywhere close to Da Vinci Code or any other stuff by that guy. I'd much rather spend my time with Harry/Draco slash than that.