Inferno

I have loved previous Dan Brown novels -- he tends to write engaging characters with incredibly complex and interesting stories. Oddly enough, I always liked Angels and Demons more than his other works, even when The Da Vinci Code clearly did more for culture. All the ideas of religion, the tensions in the Church about Mary Magdalene that were brought to the surface, made for fascinating reading, especially for a lapsed Catholic like me.

But it's been a long time since I've read those books, and so I wonder if I've somewhat romanticized them in my head.

Upon opening up Inferno, I was somewhat surprised. The novel is new, so I expect growth in the writing, but instead I've been finding work that's much more clunky that I remembered.

Inferno's protagonist, Robert Langdon, carries on Brown's previous work; its plot centers on the same rather unrealistic idea of a Harvard symbologist (Langdon) solving mysteries/murders while young, hot women fall for him. I've always pictured Langdon as a tall, handsome but rather pudgy older guy, which may not be accurate -- but it certainly wasn't dispelled when the movie cast Tom Hanks as Langdon. But I digress.

The language here, at least starting out, feels different. Maybe it's just because I'm not into the heart of the story yet. But it's very stilted, very formal and stuff, and truly rather un-fun to read. I don't feel any emotions coming off the page; instead, everything reads very clinically and cold. 
The more I read, the faster things pick up; the characters start to flow, and the plot opens up into something almost as complex and mysterious as Brown's previous novels.

What I love most about Dan Brown's books is the level of symbolism he reveals. I'm an avid reader, and was raised as a Christian even if I'm lapsed, so I loved the controversy The Da Vinci Code created, all the spin-offs and conversations that were raised as a result. So much of that conversation had never really been out in the open, and the novel's provocative inquiry into the realistic nature of the Christ story certainly opened that door.

Now, in Inferno, Brown tackles Dante's classic story. I've read snippets of The Divine Comedy before, but that's about it. I probably own a copy somewhere, but I've never thought to read the whole thing -- The Inferno is, after all, the most famous section and the most studied, so that's the only section I've ever thought to touch. Here, that section is clearly the focus, with some of the rest built in, but thankfully Brown includes enough details and background so that, if you haven't read the whole story, or even just The Inferno, you can still easily understand and appreciate its depth.

The research Brown puts into his books in order to set them up is truly incredible -- the man must have (or deserves!) a degree in art history and possibly conspiracy theories as well. The basics of Inferno -- Dante's journey into Hell; Virgil as his guide; the nine levels, each divided and punished according to their sins -- I've always understood; those basics are flooded into pop culture, even to the point where I have a Nirvana t-shirt that has the 9 Circles of Hell on it. But there is so much more to The Inferno, and then even more to the rest of the story, than I had ever realized.  Then, just like in Brown's other books, the works of art incorporated into the plot of the novel both add clues and intriguing details and provide a visual guide to the mystery at hand. Some of these pictures I had to dig up because I had no idea what they were, and to that end, it really helped to have an internet connection as I was reading, because someone out there took the time to put together all the images necessary to understand the story. The link is here; the images are in chronological order for the plot, so be careful about reading ahead if you check it out.

This is the type of image -- Botticell's interpretation of Dante's Infero -- is what you'll find on that site.  I can't overemphasize how helpful this was to understanding some of the discussions of art in the novel.  

The basic plot, as I hinted at before, is Robert Langdon, a Harvard professor solving mysteries based on his knowledge of symbols and art. I know that's a little unrealistic, at least to me, but bear with me; it's sometimes a stretch, but most of the time Brown makes it work. Frankly, if you're reading Inferno, then you're probably like me and have read some of the other Langdon novels, so you're used to this blip.

In this iteration of that plot, Langdon wakes up in a hospital bed with amnesia, having no memory of the previous few days or his discoveries and explorations of Florence, Italy. A benevolent doctor, Sienna Brooks, takes pity on him and helps him both figure out what happened to him and escape from those who are searching for him. Underneath this story is a conversation between Elizabeth Sinskey, the fictional head of the WHO (World Health Organization), and Bertrand Zobrist, a scientist and a genius intent on solving the issue of overpopulation. These two butt heads over this issue early in the novel in a flashback, and it becomes clear that this is the focus of the novel.

As Langdon tries to escape from whoever is seeking him (that point isn't clear until later), he and Brooks gradually uncover evidence that Zobrist has created something dangerous; it's unknown exactly what he created, but all information points to it being very, very bad. With the many symbolic references to the Black Death in the 1300s, including Zobrist's obsession with Dante's Inferno and all its deeper meanings, I suspected early on that Zobrist had reincarnated the bubonic plague.

Spoilers coming soon! Don't worry, I won't give ALL the twists away.  

Langdon and Brooks spend the majority of the novel dealing with the deep symbolism of Dante's Inferno, and a number of short flashbacks to Langdon's Harvard lectures help the reader put some of the more complicated levels together. Ultimately, they do find what Zobrist was working on -- but they are too late (in a twist I didn't see coming and rather enjoyed -- usually the hero swoops in an saves the day! Not this time.).

Zobrist's plague, which has been already been unleashed by the time Langdon locates it, isn't the Black Death; it's a sterility plague, one that is fast-spreading, afflicts at least a third of the population, and is thankfully fictional. Despite the WHO's positive outlook, the plague is basically unstoppable and the future of humanity is uncertain.

I'm not sure how I'd feel if I suddenly found out I was sterile, especially as the result of some lunatic engineering a virus. I don't want kids for a whole host of reasons, none of which is sterility (that I know of), but I still have the option, if I change my mind. Losing that opportunity might be a god-send -- I can never get pregnant! yay! -- or an absolute curse -- my god, I can never have kids... -- I simply don't know.

This hypothetical plague brings up lots of potential questions, both personal and affecting humanity as a whole.

So before I go any further: NERD ALERT!

Even though it wasn't with humanity, I have already seen this story play out via Bioware's trilogy Mass Effect. This game's deep backstory is part of what makes it so amazing, and the history of its races has some intimate connections to the events of Inferno.

Bear with me because this is pretty deep nerd territory: in Mass Effect, a sterility plague has been unleashed on the krogan, a semi-reptilian race of warriors and tribes. The krogan were considered weapons by the salarians, who gave them technology and lifted them out of their formerly primitive lifestyles in order to use them to win a war. However, the krogan rebelled, expanding their empire and population aggressively and fighting back against salarian control. Eventually, to preserve themselves, the salarians enlisted turian (another alien race) help and together, they designed and delivered the genophage, a sterility virus that afflicts almost all of the krogan population. (I'm simplifying a little here, especially in regards to motivations. The full story is on the Mass Effect Wiki.)

SPOILER ALERT: This genophage is remarkably similar to the plague unleashed by Zobrist on humanity in the imagined future of Inferno. He offers it as a solution to overpopulation and its range of effects; after it infects everyone, roughly 1/3 of human is rendered sterile. The main characters, Langdon and Sinskey, eventually come to the conclusion that this is probably okay, even when accomplished by unethical means, and everyone is happy. The plot resolves on a very positive note, full of acceptance, which is a little heavy-handed, even for someone like me who agrees that overpopulation stands as one of the most serious issues facing the world, one we're going to have to own up to eventually.

In the Mass Effect universe, the genophage has rendered the entire race of the krogan infertile, and, having been around for more than 1000 years, the krogan are on the verge of extinction.

Before the genophage, the krogan had an extremely high fertility/birth rate; females could produce over 1000 fertilized eggs per year, meaning their population was constantly on the rise. After the genophage, suddenly only 1 of those 1000 eggs was surviving, and the population plummeted.

Look at the United States in comparison: our fertility/birth rate is around 2 per 1000 women, a number that's fairly average for a developed country (undeveloped countries seem to have higher birth rates). Considering our population of roughly 330 million people, that's a lot of births, even with a relatively stable population growth rate (meaning enough people die to balance out births). If you then take that number of children born, and make 99.99% of them stillborn, you have the krogan genophage. Inferno doesn't paint quite such a stark picture of infertility, but the idea's the same.

Faced with infertility, the krogan as a race have not banded together to find a solution or support each other. Instead, they have devolved into small warring tribes where males rule and fight over the few fertile females that are around. There are no labs searching for cures; there is only violence. Everyone is treated with distrust and paranoia automatically, and prejudices run deep. Even more krogan head off-world to become mercenaries or thugs, causing their population to dwindle still further due to unnatural causes.

It's a fate that I wonder if our own race would be doomed to, given that Brown's story was true and a large section of humanity was revealed infertile. I can see humans focusing on those who were fertile, encouraging them to have as many kids as possible instead of rejoicing in the more sustainable population.  I can see wars and anger breeding more problems, instead of the common enemy of extinction pulling humanity together.

Zobrist meant to curb humanity's self-destructive tendencies, much as the salarians and the turians meant to do for the krogan, and yet I don't think humanity would appreciate his actions.

So many other elements of the world tie into overpopulation, including my personal opinions and choices on having children. The world of Inferno provides the opportunity to muse on our own future, and I am left hoping that we wise up before we have to face the issues overpopulation can bring.