An ivy league murder, a mysterious coded manuscript, and the secrets of a Renaissance prince collide memorably in The Rule of Four -- a brilliant work of fiction that weaves together suspense and scholarship, high art and unimaginable treachery.
It's Easter at Princeton. Seniors are scrambling to finish their theses. And two students, Tom Sullivan and Paul Harris, are a hair's breadth from solving the mysteries of the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili--a renowned text attributed to an Italian nobleman, a work that has baffled scholars since its publication in 1499. For Tom, their research has been a link to his family's past -- and an obstacle to the woman he loves. For Paul, it has become an obsession, the very reason for living. But as their deadline looms, research has stalled -- until a long-lost diary surfaces with a vital clue. And when a fellow researcher is murdered just hours later, Tom and Paul realize that they are not the first to glimpse the Hypnerotomachia 's secrets.
Suddenly the stakes are raised, and as the two friends sift through the codes and riddles at the heart of the text, they are beginnning to see the manuscript in a new light--not simply as a story of faith, eroticism and pedantry, but as a bizarre, coded mathematical maze. And as they come closer and closer to deciphering the final puzzle of a book that has shattered careers, friendships and families, they know that their own lives are in mortal danger. Because at least one person has been killed for knowing too much. And they know even more.
From the streets of fifteenth-century Rome to the rarified realm of Princeton, from a shocking 500 year-old murder scene to the drama of a young man's coming of age, The Rule of Four takes us on an entertaining, illuminating tour of history--as it builds to a pinnacle of nearly unbearable suspense.
Ian Caldwell is an American novelist. After graduating from Princeton University in 1998, he and his childhood friend Dustin Thomason co-wrote the semi-autobiographical The Rule of Four, which was published in 2004. Caldwell and Thomason graduated from the Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology, in Fairfax County, Virginia, in 1994. Caldwell was a Phi Beta Kappa in history at Princeton. In 2005, Caldwell's wife, Meredith, gave birth to their first child, Ethan Sawyer Caldwell. They live in Vienna, Virginia.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason - image from Curtis Brown
Princeton undergrads become obsessed with figuring out the riddles in a five hundred year old book, the Hypneratomachia. The obsession was not new with them. It had puzzled researchers for hundreds of year, in particular the parents of two of the students.
The puzzling is interesting. The intrigue of battling scholars and murder on campus is tedious, and the description of campus life and the protagonist’s romantic entanglement are mostly annoying. I found myself practically skimming some passages. I also never quite got the main buddies straight, Which one is talking now? This contributed to a feeling of “who cares anyway?”
But, given that I often found myself reading at odd times, like while walking from one end of a subway platform to another, there must be something compelling about the book. There is much payload on ancient learning, and the info about Savonarola and the conflict in Florence between the humanist intellectuals and the church is very interesting, I hesitate to give this a full thumbs up. Let’s say I find the obvious youth of the authors a barrier, but there is enough there to sustain interest, and enough payload to make the trip worth while.
This book was billed as a more intellectual version of The Da Vinci Code, and while I suppose it is essentially that, I honestly did not enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Dan Brown's book. The story is about a Princeton student who inherits from his father an obsession with an ancient text called the Hypnerotomachia, purported to contain directions to a vault of treasure.
Unfortunately, less than half the book was really devoted to the treasure hunt itself, with the remainder consisting of too-extensive background stories about the main characters and the ways in which they grew apart as they got older. Don't get me wrong; this is a perfectly valid thing for a story to be about. I just personally wasn't nearly as interested in these fairly generic characters going through fairly generic experiences at college as I was in the deciphering of a mysterious text. And it's definitely not just any college; it's PRINCETON. The book reminds you of this left and right, to the extent that in the end you feel like half the reason this book exists is that the authors really wanted to brag about how great Princeton is and how great they are for having gone there.
All in all, the book carried my through to the end, and the Da Vinci Code-like sequences in which the characters unraveled the text's mysteries were entertaining. Those were just too few and far between for my liking.
I enjoyed it a lot! It leaves a pleasant aftertaste like a good walk through an orchard. Is a bit similar to the Langdon series but a bit different in its languid pace of the plot. DD 2017 A reread! Q: Like many of us, I think, my father spent the measure of his life piecing together a story he would never understand. (с) Q: A son is the promise that time makes to a man, the guarantee every father receives that whatever he holds dear will someday be considered foolish, and that the person he loves best in the world will misunderstand him. (c) Q: The adventure of our first days together gradually blossomed into something else: a feeling I'd never had, which I can only compare to the sensation of returning home, of joining a balance that needs no adjusting, as if the scales of my life had been waiting for her all along. (c) Q: Hope,... which whispered from Pandora's box after all the other plagues and sorrows had escaped, is the best and last of all things. Without it, there is only time. And time pushes at our backs like a centrifuge, forcing outward and away, until it nudges us into oblivion... It's a law of motion, a fact of physics..., no different from the stages of white dwarves and red giants. Like all things in the universe, we are destined from birth to diverge. Time is simply the yardstick of our separation. If we are particles in a sea of distance, exploded from an original whole, then there is a science to our solitude. We are lonely in proportion to our years. (c) Q: Never invest yourself in anything so deeply that its failure could cost you your happiness. (c) Q: I'd begun to realize that there was an unspoken predjudice among book-learned people, a secret conviction they all seemed to share, that life as we know it is an imperfect vision of reality, and that only art, like a pair of reading glasses can correct it. (c) Q: That was the recipe of our relationship, I think. We gave each other what we never expected to find (c) Q: The only things people can ever know about you are the ones that you let them see. (c) Q: Never mix books and bed. In the spectrum of excitement, sex & thought were on opposite ends. Both to be enjoyed, but never at the same time. (c) Q: Because every desire has its proper object. It means people spend their lives wanting things they shouldn’t. The world confuses into taking their love and aiming it where it doesn’t belong. (c) Q: Time passed, worlds diverged. ... Time is what disperses us.(c) Q: Adulthood is a glacier encroaching quietly on youth. When it arrives, the stamp of childhood suddenly freezes, capturing us for good in the image of our last act, the pose we struck when the ice of age set in. (c) Q: His intelligence was relentless and wild, a fire even he couldn't control. It swallowed entire books at a sitting, finding flaws in arguments, gaps in evidence, errors in interpretation, in objects, far from his own. (с)
A Mr. Nelson DeMille writes on the back of this book that, "If Scott Fitzgerald, Umberto Eco, and Dan Brown teamed up to write a novel, the result would be The Rule of Four." I don't believe...I just can't...words fail me. F. Scott Fitzgerald must be spinning in his grave right now. Comparing Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason to Fitzgerald? Blasphemy. As for comparing them to Dan Brown, they're not even the poor man's Dan Brown - more like the homeless man's, if that. (I haven't read Umberto Eco, so I can't comment on that.)
This book was really one of the worst books I've read in awhile. I mean, I came into it with low expectations - I didn't get the chance to buy any books for my long flight back to Taiwan, so I had to make do with this being the only book available at my parents' house - but even with my low expectations, this book was still truly awful. The "mystery" (if you can even call it that) centers around solving the translation for a centuries old text. I put "mystery" in quotes because this was one of the most boring, utterly disengaging mysteries I've ever read. If you like to read stories about people sitting around in basements reading old dusty books, then perhaps you'll find it more exciting than I did. There's also an attempt at some sort of coming of age story, which fails miserably.
I don't know why when I don't like a particular book, I still force myself to read it to the bitter end. In this case, I wish I just stopped, even if that meant I would be sitting on an airplane staring blankly into space for hours. That would have still been a more worthwhile way of spending my time, instead of reading this junk.
It’s a pretty safe bet that a dude who writes books about mysterious books is probably going to dig a book about a mysterious book. Then again, not so long ago, it was a pretty safe bet that a crazy guy from a reality show wouldn’t have a prayer of winning a major political office…but, hey—California went and elected that Schwarzenegger guy.
(Not where you thought that one was going, was it? Settle down, everyone.)
Consequently, consider that I’m exactly the intended core audience for The Rule of Four when trying to determine whether you might want to pick it up.
(Side note: on no less than three occasions when someone asked me what I was reading while I was in the middle of this, I called it “The Sign of Four,” which is pretty indicative of my general state of confusion, chronic lack of sleep, and Holmes obsession.)
The Rule of Four is a well-crafted, slow burn of a thriller that will appeal to anyone who loves historical mysteries (particularly those that reference Renaissance Italy), likes academic action as much (or more) as physical action, and finds the close, relatively isolated environment of a college campus to be an ideal setting for a murder mystery-type scenario. My only real quibbles were the utter toothlessness of law enforcement officials (our intrepid heroes are picked up by the local constabulary on multiple occasions, only to face no real consequence which, given the circumstances of the story in each instance, strained the bounds of credulity in a way that the unlikely cracking of the hidden code in a five-century old book did not) and the occasionally awkward attempt to round out a character who, given the type of story, would have been perfectly fine operating in only two dimensions.
(Okay, I had one other quibble as well, but it’s a relatively minor one: That would be like not letting us see the full glory of the treasure Nicolas Cage and company found at the end of National Treasure, which would have been an affront to filmmaking. (Nicolas Cage, incidentally, is himself a national—nay, international—treasure, as is that movie, and if you disagree with that sentiment, you are wrong, reprehensible, and probably a heartless zombie with an attachment disorder; I’m sorry to be the first to tell you that.))
Suffice it to say, this is a book well worth picking up if you, like me, are the kind of dude, dudette, or duderette (we’ll use that term to encompass all aspects of gender fluidity in betwixt the male/female ends of the spectrum) who digs academic mysteries and geekish, scholarly heroes.
Confession: This book was so dreadful that I was moved to create a new readometer especially for it. Another confession, I never finished this book, it is unbelievably dull. Sure I never got to the end, although several reviews suggest that there isn't really an end anyway but as far as I got it seems to be a pseudo intellectual group masturbation about the wonders of going to Princeton. Quoting as many classics as can be crammed into the storyline (there was a storyline wasn't there?). The whole thing seems to be filled with nonsensical name dropping of classical works, “look how clever we are that we have read this book or seen this artwork”. How on earth this book is a best seller I don't know. Perhaps you have to be a pretentious ex Princetonian to make it worth the read, maybe all the reminiscing about clubs and hallways, galleries and libraries will do it for you. For me I was expecting a story, some pace, a plot some eloquent prose.. you know a book, a novel, a story, entertainment. This was Enid Blyton’s secret seven dragged into adulthood without a plot . To bill this book as the "The thinking man's Da Vinci Code is an insult to just about everyone from Da Vinci to the thinking man and everyone in between. Painfully dull and a struggle to wade through, I rarely give up on a book but this time I have made an exception, utter boring crap and I have better things to do with my time than to wade through it any further. But congratulations are in order, this is the only book to date that I have rated as worthy of only a single star and that because there isn’t a minus on the scale.
I strongly, strongly disliked this book. After I first finished reading it, I wondered if the reason I hated it was because it had been mismarketed as a Da Vinci Code analogue, and I do love me some sleuthing among historical artifacts. But no. I hated it because I disliked the pretentious characters. I disliked the plot and the constant, preening, self-indulgent homage to the hallowed halls of Princeton. I am always thrilled to hear that people love their alma mater. Really. But I don't need a coming-of-age novel masquerading as a mystery to tell me about the fun to be had in Ivy League New Jersey. Maybe I missed something. Maybe there actually was a gripping historical mystery that I could not see through all the orange and black. Maybe I will never care enough to know.
A warm, satisfying journey of personal growth and discovery!
THE RULE OF FOUR is a coming-of-age novel built around a real-life mystery, The Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, a Renaissance book that has puzzled scholars and historians for 500 years. As a literary device, it succeeds quite well but if you're looking for a historical thriller in the style of THE HISTORIAN or THE DA VINCI CODE, you're cracking the spine on the wrong book, I'm afraid!
As a result of his academic interest in the Hypnerotomachia, Paul Harris, a Princeton freshman, seeks out the acquaintance of Tom Sullivan, another newcomer to Ivy League university life, whose father was a well-known historian working on the same mystery until the time of his death. Even in real-life, the book contains puzzles, codes and mysteries that seem to defy logic and decryption and Paul and Tom are slowly absorbed and buried under an almost overwhelming obsession to find the solution!
In fact, however, the story is not really about a Renaissance literary puzzle at all. And it most certainly is not a thriller or murder mystery! It's actually a well written, warm and gratifying story of personal growth - Tom and Paul's grappling with obsession and their struggles with an academic advisor who seems bent on plagiarizing their work; their acquaintance and burgeoning friendship with Charlie Freeman, an emergency paramedic who has recently been accepted into medical school and Gil Rankin, a stereotypical Ivy League snob who is destined for fame and fortune on Wall Street; Tom's intense but difficult relationship with Katie Marchand that seems threatened at every turn by his obsession with the Hypnerotomachia and his inability to focus on things that really matter; the realistic presentation of undergraduate life at an Ivy League university including hazing, student antics such as The Nude Olympics, variations on hide and seek in the university underground infrastructure, the ominous difficulties of studies, examinations and imposing deadlines and, of course, the endless round of parties and drinking. Ultimately, as happens all too frequently, young men and women reach the conclusion of their life at university and distance simply peels them apart and they move in different directions.
While the real point of the story lies elsewhere, the puzzle, supposedly penned by one Francesco Colonna, provides an extraordinarily interesting side-bar - Renaissance history, code-breaking, art and architecture, eroticism and, most fascinating of all, a short, minutely detailed re-creation of Savonarola's brief but brutal religious and moral dictatorship over Florence at the time of the Medici family.
Those who seek to shoehorn THE RULE OF FOUR into a niche reserved for historical fiction, thrillers or mysteries are doomed to set it aside unfulfilled. Like THE THIRD TRANSLATION, only letting the book set its own tone and reading it with no stylistic expectations will allow THE RULE OF FOUR's quality and warmth to rise to the surface! Well done, Caldwell and Thomason!
This book is incredibly creative; I love how Ian takes the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili and creates a compelling story built around history and detective work. If you loved Dan Browns books because you where excited to figure out the clues and solve the mysteries then you will love this book. The story itself included just enough drama to not take away from the underlying teaching of the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (I’m sorry, once I taught myself to say it once I can’t stop saying it now). This ancient book cloaked in mystery is really what makes this story so good, I found myself doing Google searches on it trying to see the pictures and looking for the clues and trying to follow it as the characters in the story followed it. Overall great book, one in which I walked away from it feeling like I understood a lot more about history and how the human condition affects it.
"The Da Vinci Code for people with brains." The Independent.
Sigh. Yeah. More like a book for anyone who passed English 101 freshman year of college. At least the Da Vinci Code was a page-turner ... an idiotic and predictable page-turner, but still entertaining. In The Rule of Four, it takes 268 pages for two hours to pass. The male protagonists are four college guys who drink wine (yeah right) and watch Audrey Hepburn movies (suuuuuure), and one is such a genius that he can easily translate a 15th century Genovese dialect into English ... which can only be insulting to the reader "with brains" who knows that the Genovese dialect is a language of it's own, incomprehensible to native Italian speakers who live anywhere outside Genova. In the end, this boring story (which actually had great potential by exploring the origins of a mysterious book from 1499) is really just a pseudo-intellectual rag and a snobby history of Princeton University. Blaaaah.
It gets two stars for a few interesting insights about love and life, and the one developed character who was a fascinating librarian who only surfaced for ten pages or so.
There's a reason Steven King recommends never using a word if there is a simpler one that will do. Because, sadly, when authors stretch their readers, and those readers can't quite make the stretching, they end up feeling stupid. Tending to react badly to the experience. Or, overreacting, mostly with negativity. Unreasonably so. This book, from reading through its reviews after I read it, seems to do just that.
It's a good engaging read, well written. A detailed story, connecting to complexity and the non-usual. Definitely not going to be everyone's thing. However, personal like or dislike seems to be much confused with the quality of the work itself. I might not personally enjoy something and still be able to recognise and appreciate it as a work of good quality. Unfortunately, this does not seem to be common among reviewers, who assume if they did not like, then it "must" be bad.
There is much to recommend the work, form its insight into Princeton University life to the illuminations on renaissance intellectual life. Most of all, it provides insight into Immersion and obtuse interest which can consume some. This might seem removed from our ordinary life, but, through the extremes portrayed in the book, we come to understand any mindset or psychology that can become waylaid by immersion. This can happen with ego, ambition, sex, career, status, or any number of "mundane" obsessions.
This book does an excellent job of illustrating those diversive and sometimes destructive distortions of perspective which can result. Not to mention the power of choice, awareness and deliberation. The necessity of character, and how its lack is so consequential. If we look at the book, its story, the characters, from this more abstract perspective the story has much to offer indeed. Well worth the read.
My rating standard is more strict than most, just how I started, and like to keep the consistency. This book would have earned a very high 4 stars from me except the ending I felt was weak relative to the rest of the book. It's as if the last part was written by other authors. Still good, but not as potent as the rest.
I am mystified by the great reviews that this book got...for instance, i believe the nyt said "stunningly erudite," where i think what they meant was "pretentiously psuedointellectual", or, in more common terms, "dull". other people have said that this is similar to the da vinci code, only written well, whereas i would say that it is more of a modern "name of the rose," written by two people who are boring. my only way of understanding the reviews is to think that book reviewers enjoy the constant references to the tweedy eating clubs of princeton, which were likely the last place that they felt that they belonged...of course, my review MIGHT be colored a bit by my overwhelming disdain for all things princeton.
Second time through; still one of my all-time favorites. The prose is elegant and witty, despite being billed in the "literary thriller" genre (think The Da Vinci Code). The characters are rich, deep, and believable, especially Tom Sullivan, the narrator, on whom I think I have a wee crush. His observations on the dangers of loving things that cannot love you back—in his case, books—have stayed with me since I first read this last summer. The Rule of Four reads like a memoir, a careful blend of wit and nostalgia and keen observations, with just the right amount of panache and hope thrown in for good measure. I can never put this book down; I am smitten, yes, again, beyond the telling of it.
A debut novel by two Princeton grads, this story has a Dan Brown quality immersing the reader into the Renaissance years while the main two characters work to uncover the meaning of a mysterious book written in 1499. Well researched, paced and developed it engages the reader, raises questions and demonstrates good storytelling. The only fault I can find is somewhat of a let down with the finale. This isn't uncommon with first books though it did diminish the six years of work the authors invested. Regardless, I enjoyed it thoroughly and recommend it to anyone.
While I can't deny that The Rule of Four was well written, I also can't deny that it was a thirteen-hour esoteric, pretentious dissertation on two Princeton seniors obsessed with an ancient text called the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili.
This book was a Da Vinci Code wannabe—only the "clues" seemed to appear out of thin air and you'd quite literally have to know everything to figure out the meaning of the obscure references. Instead of searching for and finding clues, Paul apparently had the brain capability of a theoretical physicist who merely had to think long and hard on something and voilà he figured it out!
The majority of the book was spent listening to Tom philosophize on his and his roommates privileged lives at Princeton and whine over his relationship with his deceased father. The murder that the summary refers to doesn't take place until the final quarter of the book and there is very little suspense. In my opinion, the summary was extremely misleading...
"The Rule of Four takes us on an entertaining, illuminating tour of history—as it builds to a pinnacle of nearly unbearable suspense." No. Seriously. No. The "tour of history", which I would normally find interesting, was so convoluted that it was nearly impossible to follow. And lengthy "fact" recitation does not an "entertaining tour" make.
The Rule of Four would have been much more entertaining if it simply focused on the four roommates—all completely different, but coexisting in functional relationships.
As trashy as you'd expect, with the unfortunate surprise of being almost completely uninteresting. Also, the end of the book thinks it is romanticizing academics, but it's really insulting them.
the long version (what I wrote about the book when I first read it):
Another Ivy League Education Gone to Waste
There's a small selection of English language books in the lounge at work, and I picked up The Rule of Four the other day. I recalled reading a -- mostly positive -- review of the book when it came out, describing it as a Da Vinci Code-ish novel (although I haven't read The Da Vinci Code), an academic mystery / suspense set at Princeton University, written by two Princeton grads as a way to keep in touch after graduation (which I thought totally dorky, but maybe a little cute).
You know those guys that you went to college with, who were maybe a little too articulate for their own good and who were super-excited to be at "X" institution and could enumerate the reasons why, but only in the most intellectually superficial way? (Yeah, douchebag, Schroedinger's cat is awesome.) Yeah, the book is written by those guys. I hate those guys. And while, clearly, people who I might not like if I knew them in person can write some really good stuff (for one, I'm pretty sure that Dave Eggers is the guy at the bar who won't shut up about 'how awesome would it be if we ...?'), these aren't those guys.
The book is clubby, pretentious, exceptionalist, shallow, and romantic about life and love in the self-absorbed way that must seem very profound and gratifying for a couple of Princeton guys with not many female friends, but that no one over the age of 24 should be. In short, everything I always assumed about Princeton students but never had proof of. Before. Also, the mystery isn't very interesting.
Oh, "The Rule of Four." It's been a while since I read this, but I thought about it again when I saw not one, but two copies at my local thrift store yesterday. It came out in 2004.
Yes, it's that awesome. This treasure was published on the heels of The DaVinci Code- it was rushed out, and the editing and extremely poor writing style reflect this. Take one member of academia (Tom, a college student!), add a mysterious tome (the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili- it's got codes!), and all of the other people who want to get their hands on this ancient text and have them travel to discover a secret historical mystery. It sounds a bit familiar, doesn't it?
The books would have been interesting if it hadn't been for the name-dropping (it's set in Princeton, and they don't let you forget it), the fact that they explain each and every historical and literary reference to the reader, and having to wade through the story with four characters who you never really like. Seriously, I'm guessing these characters are the two writers and their friends, which is a shame because all four are ridiculously pretentious.
Reading this book was a chore. There was potential, but not enough to excuse the terrible writing and blatant condescension towards the reader.
You can compare it to the Da Vinci Code, in that it has the same sort of genre. The difference is that The Rule of Four has more character development, and less thriller action. To me, the book seemed similar in pretense, but was smarter in the content. It had a scholarly feel, and not just a governmental action feel.
Beautiful analogies and allegories are utilized by the two writers to convey the character’s thoughts and musings. These were a pleasure to read and effectively added to the emotional rapport that the book built with me as a it’s reader.
Still, there are no high-speed chase scenes, no pentacles crafted from human blood, and no secret meetings held in the Louvre’s restrooms. This is not to say however that the book moved painfully slowly. Buildings did explode, and lives were lost, but most importantly, the excitement that the characters experienced when solving the next great riddle was translated and delivered right to the reader with utmost skill.
I don't even think this should have been published. This was the biggest waste of time. The book focuses on a manuscript (you never really learn how to pronounce it, even with the pronunciation guide) that has secret clues hidden in it that are uraveled by some friends. It's stupid. The plot is terrible and just as you think the climax of the book is coming up, it ends. This is one of the few books I tell everyone to steer clear of. Totally worthless.
Just before reading this book, I read The Lost Symbol. Before I reached the end, I'd researched the ending. While I sometimes do that with a movie that I don't really care about, this was the first time I'd done it with a book.
As I listened to The Rule of Four, I have several books on Audio that I listen to while driving, I was confused by the plot. While I knew that the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili was central to the story, the jumping back and forth in time was odd at times and I couldn't grasp what I needed to care about this old book.
Than I reached the end, I smiled not only at the actual ending, but in understanding.
The confusion I felt was due to everything being shown from Tom's point of view, who spends almost all of the story being confused by his past and future colliding. So much of his life was filled with a love/hate relationship with the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, that became melded with the death of his father AND a sense of both wanting to finish what his father had started, but not BE his father.
As an adult who's lost a parent before 30 [older than Tom was, but in many ways still in a developmental stage], I understood the sense of being torn between who they wanted you to be and who you are...
I was saddened when I finished and came over to write the review and saw so many negative reviews. This isn't in the same caliber as a classic, but in my eyes... Dan Brown could learn a thing or two on research from this book.
Let's get something out of the way: The Rule of Four by Justin Thomason and Ian Caldwell is pretty much a paint-by-numbers affair as far as intellectual thrillers are concerned. There is, of course, an extremely obscure historical text called the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili that apparently has an arcane code within it, revealing an earth-shaking truth that may rewrite history. There is an obsessive soul, a senior in Princeton named Paul, who becomes so consumed by the mystery that he pushes away the people who love him in his pursuit of it. There is a narrator named Tom who has already watched is his father be consumed by the Hypnerotomachia until his death and is now watching helplessly as the same thing happens to his best friend.
There are also deaths, because people who write their thesis on 15th Century Italian manuscripts live life on the edge.
But for some reason, reading this book pushed so many pleasure centers in my brain in ways that made me forgive the banal writing and even the weird tonal shifts that it takes. When the story is not straining to be suspenseful or shocking, I actually found it kind of comforting. The hermetic setting of the Princeton campus may also have contributed to that, because it evoked associations of Dead Poets' Society, The Gilmore Girls, and other pop culture things about idyllic schools and youth.
Also woven into the narrative is the theme of father-son relationships. Within the rarefied confines of academia, both Tom and Paul are ultimately seeking validation from father figures that seem to only convey their affection as it is related to history. I'm all about tender masculine relationships so those parts were really up my alley.
The authorial decision to structure the novel as a thriller, I think, ultimately hurt the story. Had Caldwell and Thomason emphasized the coming-of-age and nerdy mystery aspects while softening the mortal peril, it could have been a more satisfying read. It's in books like these that you can really detect the bald commerce of the book publishing industry. The Rule of Four clearly earned a lot of money my attaching its name onto Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code (published one year before) but it also suffered when it comes to cultural esteem because of it. If it had been edited and marketed as, say, Carlos Ruiz Zafon's The Shadow of the Wind, it could have attracted the kind of readers who are interested in atmosphere and academic scholarship, rather than readers looking for zippy thrillers with Vatican conspiracies.
I guess I like the idea of it more than its reality, which happens often enough. The Rule of Four has acute things to say about the futility and nobility of scholarship which really hit home for me and my own college experience. During those short years, you are put into this very unnatural environment where a missed term paper feels like the end of your life. It's a time when all the learning opportunities are there for the taking and you have all the time in the world to pursue all that you want to know. But of course, youth is wasted on the young.
The comparisons to The DaVinci Code are inevitable, and the substandard copyediting seems to indicate that The Rule of Four was rushed out in order to capitalize on the Dan Brown furor. That the mistakes weren't fixed for the paperback edition is rather puzzling. The reviews do seem overenthusiastic, though it figures that the New York Times would seize on this more erudite text given the opportunity to steer readers from Dan Brown. Overall, this book was less thriller, more bildungsroman, and I appreciated the character development that the authors included. I'm not much for a page-turning thriller, and as I get a bit older I leave less and less of my time for books like this one. That said, I did enjoy it, both the academic puzzle (which challenged me more than Dan Brown's silly apple riddle), and the image of college life. I got the impression that the authors were trying to marry the puzzle of the Hypnerotomachia with the uncertainty that comes with leaving academia behind (or choosing to pursue it as a career) and beginning "real life." I'm not entirely certain that the attempt was a successful one. But overall, it was fairly enjoyable. If you're a confirmed Dan Brown fan for the thrills, this one might leave you cold, because the mystery occupies a relatively small amount of the text. But as a profile of the way that the relationships between fathers and sons and friends and lovers intersect and develop and falter, and the interests that take our hearts and time away from our the people that matter to us, it's a worthwhile read. It's true, though, that for a novel that appears to celebrate academia, there is a real indictment of the system here.
After listening to me complain about the terrible writing in The Da Vinci Code, my roommate recommended this book as a more satisfying read that blends art history with a murder mystery. I liked it (and greatly preferred the authors' style over that hack Dan Brown's), but I didn't love it.
Nearly as interesting as the book itself is the story of the two young authors, Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, childhood friends and recent college graduates, who collaborated for years to write The Rule of Four and endured several rejections before finding a publisher who took a shine to their manuscript. In a Washington Post interview from May 2004, Thomason said "I don't know what it would be like to write alone." I rely on editors and proofreaders to help me shape my thoughts into prose that conveys its intended message, but I can't imagine dividing the nitty gritty task of writing with a partner. I stand in awe of teams who can share the spotlight graciously and trust in each other's talents.
I am becoming more and more baffled as to what it takes to become a New York Times Bestseller. But basically:
If you think books have too much show and not enough tell, if you're looking for a book with pages and pages of inconsequential back story, and most certainly, if you want to see how info dumping can be transformed into a art form, then by all means read this book!
I mean, I'm glad two childhood best friends went to college and used their collective degrees to write a book together, but so much of this book was unnecessary to read (there's a reason it's called back story. Some things the author just needs to know to keep cohesiveness, but omits for pacing)and the obligatory romance one-dimensional and disjointed.
The thing I remember most from the book is the (of course) random quote that there is no worse thief than a bad book.
Amen.
In short: the title was more intriguing than the actual book.
(I just got The Eight and now I'm afraid to read it because it has a number in its title.)
I opened this book with a fair amount of enthuzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (blink) but, sadly, it wasn't long before I realizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (yawn) I mean, multiple authors can work quite nicely, but it's always wizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (snort) underground in a sewer forever, clanging around and banging heads in that mazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (stretch) something about trees, and what the hell was with that hazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (shift) sure, I gave it my best shot, but I just could not manage to keep my eyezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (phfffft) well, what else can I say, I barely remember anything about this collaboration between two guyzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (rub eyes) Now, I'm not saying don't have at it, but there are so many other books, and time fliezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (ear tug) so now I keep it right by my bed.
Egads, this was BAD. If you want a love-note to Princeton, then read this. If you want something to actually enjoy, do not read this. I will admit that it captures undergraduate life, and especially senior year, pretty well. But it also has the world's most boring mystery and characters I didn't care two whits about and an ending I saw coming since the beginning. Just because a book uses big words, doesn't make it clever.
My biggest problem was the protagonist's girlfriend (I can't be bothered to remember their names). As all too often happens in bad books, she has no real personality and serves no real purpose except to be a love interset, someone for the hero to pine for/fight for/give up the book/whatever for. Will they stay together? Won't they? Why is she so darn petty? I don't care!
Plus, it was pretentious and had completely unnecessary flashbacks to the narrator's childhood that were supposed to "illustrate" the theme/point/whatever of that chapter. Worst one ever: at camp, a young narrator and his friends modify the "make new friends/but keep the old" campfire song in a stupid grade-school way, turning it into something about ditching friends and wanting gold (we totally did this with the school song in grade school, and we thought we were devestatingly clever). The point of this trip down memory-lane? His mother, in all seriousness, sits him down to talk about how this behavior makes her worried that he does in fact value gold more than friendship and to make sure he understands that people are worth more than objects because oh my god young narrator might become the scholarly obssessive that his father is oh noes! I guess young narrator got all his brains from his father, or perhaps it indicates that lack of common sense runs in the family, because I can't believe a human being is so oblivious that she thinks modifying song lyrics is a sign that a child actually BELIEVES what he is now singing. More likely, it is in fact a badly written attempt to shoe-horn the chapter's theme into a flashback. All these flashbacks, which in fact just boil down to My-Father-Was-Obssessed-With-This-Book-And-It-May-Be-Killed-Him-I-Don't-Want-To-Be-Like-Him-Do-You-Get-It-Now?-Huh?-HUH? could've been cut out and made it a better (but probably still not a good) book.
I enjoyed this book immensely. The Rule of Four came out around the same time as when the Da Vinci Code was a big deal, and other authors were jumping on the suspense/ historical fiction bandwagon. This was one of those books on that bandwagon. That being said, this is still a good read. The setting is Princeton. Tom Sullivan and Paul Harris are friends that have ties to a 500 year-old Renaissance book they are researching. The research is followed by many surprises, clues, solutions, relationship conflicts, stress, and murder. I couldn't put it down, and it was a lot of fun, and becomes an obsession. There are many twists and turns followed by a good wrap-up at the end of the story. Calwell and Thomason are both young authors with a great future of storytelling ahead of them. Rule of Four rocks!
Un libro strano che parte con tanto coinvolgimento per poi scemare pian piano verso una noia quasi mortale. La trama è incentrata su uno studente di Princeton che eredita da suo padre un'ossessione per un antico testo chiamato Hypnerotomachia, che si presume contenga le indicazioni per un "tesoro". Tanti gli spunti interessanti citati: il Rinascimento, il conflitto di Firenze fra umanisti e intellettuali, Savonarola, ma alla fine persi nel vuoto perché, spesso, il filone principale esce dai binari per raccontare d'altro come, ad esempio, una parentesi rosa che c'entra come i cavoli a merenda nella storia e un finale davvero inverosimile. Mi ha dato come l'impressione di voler ricalcare il più famoso " Codice Da Vinci", ma con pessimi risultati.