Here we go.
Remi and Sam Fargo are the best treasure hunters ever. They are beautiful, smart, filthy stinking rich (rich enough to pay their way out of any situation, at least), and can make friends with anyone, especially those in any government or police force in the world (this also helps with the "get out of any situation easily" thing). They never make a cent from their finds (profiting from treasure hunting would just be wrong; this sets them apart from all other treasure hunters, who are greedy criminals), instead giving them to the proper authorities. And they often volunteer with random archaeological digs, even paying for a large percentage of the funding.
The story begins when the Fargos are called away from being perfect by Professor Albrect Fischer, an archaeologist who has made a discovery that he needs their help with. Of course, the fact that is kidnapped shortly afterwards indicates that this is no ordinary find: Albrecht has found the burial place of the thousand Huns who buried Attila the Hun, and one of the soldiers holds clues that point the way toward Attila's tomb and the riches buried therein. The Fargos must follow these clues across Europe to find Attila's hidden treasure, outwitting trained mercenaries and hardened criminal masterminds with ease, nary a hint of tension or suspense in sight.
Characterization could be improved, though.
Folks, I think I finally get it. All those books I thought were mere fluff fiction: Fifty Shades of Grey, A Discovery of Witches, Zoo? Those were nothing compared to this. This book is what all of the scholars are talking about when they say that Genre Fiction has no literary merit.
It starts off with the writing style. Folks, I know I've complained about this before, but as an aspiring writer who hopes to be published and/or copy-edit someday, I find it personally offensive that these books were allowed to go to print with such glaring mistakes. Aside from the usual "show don't tell" problems, the author sometimes forgets to begin a new paragraph when someone else speaks, leading to reader confusion when characters start asking or answering themselves about something they just did or a question they just answered. This is not helped when the author throws his characters into the featureless plain of disembodied dialogue (while this trope can sometimes be successfully used in published fiction, it does not work when there are more than two characters in a conversation, or when the characters are so bland that the reader can't differentiate their lines).
This leads me to the characterization. The Fargos are, as mentioned before, too perfect to let me care about them. I know that they can get out of any situation somehow, with their wealth, their influence, or their smarts and skills. Because they are able to get out of any situation easily, any suspense that the author tries to build falls completely flat. As for the other characters, the Fargos' allies seem to only be there to help the Fargos or to make them look good, while the villains are only there to shake their fists angrily as the Fargos foil their plans.
Finally, the theme of the book: there is none. The Fargos are awesome and foil the villains plans to get the treasures of Attila the Hun, making sure that they are given to the proper cultural authorities. Yay.
All of this combines to create a mess that just makes me say the 8 worst words a writer can hear:
No, not those words. That was 50 Shades of Grey.
"I don't care about any of these characters".
So, is this it? Is this the ultimate example of what "Literature" is not? If so, what is "Literature"? "Literature" needs a writing style above that of an amateur middleschooler, and it needs a point; it needs to say something beyond "these characters are awesome and they beat the bad guys", it needs to make its audience think about the world around them.
Of course, this is all my opinion, what do you think? Can literary merit be found in any written work, even something as lacking in substance as The Tombs?
Next time we come full circle, as I read Jude Devereaux's Stranger in the Moonlight. Will this bit of romance fiction hold more literary value than Fifty Shades of Grey? Doubtful, but wait and see.
So, is this it? Is this the ultimate example of what "Literature" is not? If so, what is "Literature"? "Literature" needs a writing style above that of an amateur middleschooler, and it needs a point; it needs to say something beyond "these characters are awesome and they beat the bad guys", it needs to make its audience think about the world around them.
Of course, this is all my opinion, what do you think? Can literary merit be found in any written work, even something as lacking in substance as The Tombs?
Next time we come full circle, as I read Jude Devereaux's Stranger in the Moonlight. Will this bit of romance fiction hold more literary value than Fifty Shades of Grey? Doubtful, but wait and see.
