I know I’ve been a bit mean about Clive’s writing so far, but sometimes he takes a time-tested staple of the literary arts and gives it an inspirational twist. For example: characterisation, which is undoubtedly all about drawing a picture in your reader’s mind, bringing a human being to life with mere words, and is surely one of the cornerstones of fine fiction. And, if I may ask a rhetorical question, what BETTER way to draw such a lexicographical picture than by having your hero look at himself in a mirror? Then he’ll be seeing those same words too! It’s so simple, it’s genius!
The face and body on the other side were not what they were ten years ago. The hair had yet to show any indications of baldness. It was still thick, black and wavy( like a cataclysmic oil spillage perhaps), but grey was beginning to creep in along the temples. The piercing green eyes beneath dense eyebrows had yet to dim. They were eyes passed on by his mother, and they had a hypnotic quality about them that seemed to reach into the very soul of people who came into contact with him. (Sleep)… Women were especially absorbed by his eyes. (SLEEP! )They sensed an aura about them, something that revealed him as a down-to-earth man who could be trusted. (SLEEEEEEEEP!)
Very moving. Cussler effortlessly creates not just a telling picture, but somehow manages to make his hero seem very familiar to his reader, as if we already knew him well, as if his face was already one… in our… er…
[Page 49] …opaline green eyes… tall… lean… black hair… wavy… touch of gray… craggy features – wait – [Page 105] …craggy features – Huh.
Hmm. I wonder if Cussler is going to re-describe his hero every fifty pages or so through the entire book. Maybe, while rescuing a school bus full of screaming doe-eyed choirboys he’ll catch a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror and be transported on wings of memory to – well, let’s not get ahead of our selves. Repetative or not, it’s powerful stuff. Something tells me Dirk Pitt® is quite the pork swordsman. I can’t speak for the women out there – men haven’t been allowed that privilege since the 1950’s – but I’ve got to say – well, the 70’s – I’ve got to say that this humble man is pretty damn absorbed by those eyes too. And who wouldn’t be, with auras like that? Pitt® himself continues staring into the mirror (not to mention lightly running the fingers of one hand over his body) for another six paragraphs while thinking deeply. About things like… family.
Valhalla Rising had more twists and turns that were less predictable than this one, but I think it was fine. Not certain which book I'll read next-but we'll see.
