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The Lost Symbol (Robert Langdon Book 3) Kindle Edition
“Impossible to put down.... Another mind-blowing Robert Langdon story.” —The New York Times
Famed Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon answers an unexpected summons to appear at the U.S. Capitol Building. His plans are interrupted when a disturbing object—artfully encoded with five symbols—is discovered in the building. Langdon recognizes in the find an ancient invitation into a lost world of esoteric, potentially dangerous wisdom.
When his mentor Peter Solomon—a long-standing Mason and beloved philanthropist—is kidnapped, Langdon realizes that the only way to save Solomon is to accept the mystical invitation and plunge headlong into a clandestine world of Masonic secrets, hidden history, and one inconceivable truth ... all under the watchful eye of Dan Brown's most terrifying villain to date.
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherAnchor
- Publication dateSeptember 15, 2009
- File size4292 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Amazon.com Review
The Lost Symbol begins with an ancient ritual, a shadowy enclave, and of course, a secret. Readers know they are in Dan Brown territory when, by the end of the first chapter, a secret within a secret is revealed. To tell too much would ruin the fun of reading this delicious thriller, so you will find no spoilers here. Suffice it to say that as with many series featuring a recurring character, there is a bit of a formula at work (one that fans will love). Again, brilliant Harvard professor Robert Langdon finds himself in a predicament that requires his vast knowledge of symbology and superior problem-solving skills to save the day. The setting, unlike other Robert Langdon novels, is stateside, and in Brown's hands Washington D.C. is as fascinating as Paris or Vatican City (note to the D.C. tourism board: get your "Lost Symbol" tour in order). And, as with other Dan Brown books, the pace is relentless, the revelations many, and there is an endless parade of intriguing factoids that will make you feel like you are spending the afternoon with Robert Langdon and the guys from Mythbusters.
Nothing is as it seems in a Robert Langdon novel, and The Lost Symbol itself is no exception--a page-turner to be sure, but Brown also challenges his fans to open their minds to new information. Skeptical? Imagine how many other thrillers would spawn millions of Google searches for noetic science, superstring theory, and Apotheosis of Washington. The Lost Symbol is brain candy of the best sort--just make sure to set aside time to enjoy your meal. --Daphne Durham
From Publishers Weekly
From Bookmarks Magazine
Review
“Robert Langdon remains a terrific hero, a bookish intellectual who’s cool in a crisis and quick on his feet.... The codes are intriguing, the settings present often-seen locales in a fresh light, and Brown keeps the pages turning.” —Entertainment Weekly
“Thrilling in the extreme, a definite page-flipper.” —New York Daily News
“[The] Indiana Jones of intellectuals, Robert Langdon, rides again.... Revelations connecting faith and science...add dimension to this page-turner’s thrills.” —People
“Call it Brownian motion: a comet-tail ride of beautifully spaced reveals and a socko unveiling of the killer’s true identity.” —Washington Post
“The wait is over. The Lost Symbol is here—and you don’t have to be a Freemason to enjoy it.... Thrilling and entertaining, like the experience on a roller coaster.” —Los Angeles Times
“A roaring ride.... A caper filled with puzzles, grids, symbols, pyramids and a secret that can bestow ‘unfathomable power.’” —San Francisco Chronicle
“A fascinating pleasure.... Upends our usual assumptions about the world we think we know.” —Newsweek
“Dan Brown is a master of the breathless, puzzle-driven thriller.” —Richmond Times-Dispatch
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Since the beginning of time, the secret had always been how to die.
The thirty-four-year-old initiate gazed down at the human skull cradled in his palms. The skull was hollow, like a bowl, filled with bloodred wine.Drink it, he told himself. You have nothing to fear. As was tradition, he had begun this journey adorned in the ritualistic garb of a medieval heretic being led to the gallows, his loose-fitting shirt gaping open to reveal his pale chest, his left pant leg rolled up to the knee, and his right sleeve rolled up to the elbow. Around his neck hung a heavy rope noose—a "cable-tow" as the brethren called it. Tonight, however, like the brethren bearing witness, he was dressed as a master.The assembly of brothers encircling him all were adorned in their full regalia of lambskin aprons, sashes, and white gloves. Around their necks hung ceremonial jewels that glistened like ghostly eyes in the muted light. Many of these men held powerful stations in life, and yet the initiate knew their worldly ranks meant nothing within these walls. Here all men were equals, sworn brothers sharing a mystical bond.As he surveyed the daunting assembly, the initiate wondered who on the outside would ever believe that this collection of men would assemble in one place . . . much less this place. The room looked like a holy sanctuary from the ancient world.The truth, however, was stranger still.I am just blocks away from the White House.This colossal edifice, located at 1733 Sixteenth Street NW in Washington, D.C., was a replica of a pre-Christian temple—the temple of King Mausolus, the original mausoleum . . . a place to be taken after death. Outside the main entrance, two seventeen-ton sphinxes guarded the bronze doors. The interior was an ornate labyrinth of ritualistic chambers, halls, sealed vaults, libraries, and even a hollow wall that held the remains of two human bodies. The initiate had been told every room in this building held a secret, and yet he knew no room held deeper secrets than the gigantic chamber in which he was currently kneeling with a skull cradled in his palms.The Temple Room.This room was a perfect square. And cavernous. The ceiling soared an astonishing one hundred feet overhead, supported by monolithic columns of green granite. A tiered gallery of dark Russian walnut seats with hand-tooled pigskin encircled the room. A thirty-three-foot-tall throne dominated the western wall, with a concealed pipe organ opposite it. The walls were a kaleidoscope of ancient symbols . . . Egyptian, Hebraic, astronomical, alchemical, and others yet unknown.Tonight, the Temple Room was lit by a series of precisely arranged candles. Their dim glow was aided only by a pale shaft of moonlight that filtered down through the expansive oculus in the ceiling and illuminated the room's most startling feature—an enormous altar hewn from a solid block of polished Belgian black marble, situated dead center of the square chamber.The secret is how to die, the initiate reminded himself."It is time," a voice whispered.The initiate let his gaze climb the distinguished white-robed figure standing before him. The Supreme Worshipful Master. The man, in his late fifties, was an American icon, well loved, robust, and incalculably wealthy. His once-dark hair was turning silver, and his famous visage reflected a lifetime of power and a vigorous intellect."Take the oath," the Worshipful Master said, his voice soft like falling snow. "Complete your journey."The initiate's journey, like all such journeys, had begun at the first degree. On that night, in a ritual similar to this one, the Worshipful Master had blindfolded him with a velvet hoodwink and pressed a ceremonial dagger to his bare chest, demanding: "Do you seriously declare on your honor, uninfluenced by mercenary or any other unworthy motive, that you freely and voluntarily offer yourself as a candidate for the mysteries and privileges of this brotherhood?""I do," the initiate had lied."Then let this be a sting to your consciousness," the master had warned him, "as well as instant death should you ever betray the secrets to be imparted to you."At the time, the initiate had felt no fear. They will never know my true purpose here.Tonight, however, he sensed a foreboding solemnity in the Temple Room, and his mind began replaying all the dire warnings he had been given on his journey, threats of terrible consequences if he ever shared the ancient secrets he was about to learn: Throat cut from ear to ear . . . tongue torn out by its roots . . . bowels taken out and burned . . . scattered to the four winds of heaven . . . heart plucked out and given to the beasts of the field—"Brother," the gray-eyed master said, placing his left hand on the initiate's shoulder. "Take the final oath."Steeling himself for the last step of his journey, the initiate shifted his muscular frame and turned his attention back to the skull cradled in his palms. The crimson wine looked almost black in the dim candlelight. The chamber had fallen deathly silent, and he could feel all of the witnesses watching him, waiting for him to take his final oath and join their elite ranks.Tonight, he thought, something is taking place within these walls that has never before occurred in the history of this brotherhood. Not once, in centuries.He knew it would be the spark . . . and it would give him unfathomable power. Energized, he drew a breath and spoke aloud the same words that countless men had spoken before him in countries all over the world."May this wine I now drink become a deadly poison to me . . . should I ever knowingly or willfully violate my oath."His words echoed in the hollow space.Then all was quiet.Steadying his hands, the initiate raised the skull to his mouth and felt his lips touch the dry bone. He closed his eyes and tipped the skull toward his mouth, drinking the wine in long, deep swallows. When the last drop was gone, he lowered the skull.For an instant, he thought he felt his lungs growing tight, and his heart began to pound wildly. My God, they know! Then, as quickly as it came, the feeling passed.A pleasant warmth began to stream through his body. The initiate exhaled, smiling inwardly as he gazed up at the unsuspecting gray-eyed man who had foolishly admitted him into this brotherhood's most secretive ranks.Soon you will lose everything you hold most dear.
Chapter 1The Otis elevator climbing the south pillar of the Eiffel Tower was overflowing with tourists. Inside the cramped lift, an austere businessman in a pressed suit gazed down at the boy beside him. "You look pale, son. You should have stayed on the ground.""I'm okay . . ." the boy answered, struggling to control his anxiety. "I'll get out on the next level." I can't breathe.The man leaned closer. "I thought by now you would have gotten over this." He brushed the child's cheek affectionately.The boy felt ashamed to disappoint his father, but he could barely hear through the ringing in his ears. I can't breathe. I've got to get out of this box!The elevator operator was saying something reassuring about the lift's articulated pistons and puddled-iron construction. Far beneath them, the streets of Paris stretched out in all directions.Almost there, the boy told himself, craning his neck and looking up at the unloading platform. Just hold on.As the lift angled steeply toward the upper viewing deck, the shaft began to narrow, its massive struts contracting into a tight, vertical tunnel."Dad, I don't think—"Suddenly a staccato crack echoed overhead. The carriage jerked, swaying awkwardly to one side. Frayed cables began whipping around the carriage, thrashing like snakes. The boy reached out for his father."Dad!"Their eyes locked for one terrifying second.Then the bottom dropped out.Robert Langdon jolted upright in his soft leather seat, startling out of the semiconscious daydream. He was sitting all alone in the enormous cabin of a Falcon 2000EX corporate jet as it bounced its way through turbulence. In the background, the dual Pratt & Whitney engines hummed evenly."Mr. Langdon?" The intercom crackled overhead. "We're on final approach."Langdon sat up straight and slid his lecture notes back into his leather daybag. He'd been halfway through reviewing Masonic symbology when his mind had drifted. The daydream about his late father, Langdon suspected, had been stirred by this morning's unexpected invitation from Langdon's longtime mentor, Peter Solomon.The other man I never want to disappoint.The fifty-eight-year-old philanthropist, historian, and scientist had taken Langdon under his wing nearly thirty years ago, in many ways filling the void left by Langdon's father's death. Despite the man's influential family dynasty and massive wealth, Langdon had found humility and warmth in Solomon's soft gray eyes.Outside the window the sun had set, but Langdon could still make out the slender silhouette of the world's largest obelisk, rising on the horizon like the spire of an ancient gnomon. The 555-foot marble-faced obelisk marked this nation's heart. All around the spire, the meticulous geometry of streets and monuments radiated outward.Even from the air, Washington, D.C., exuded an almost mystical power.Langdon loved this city, and as the jet touched down, he felt a rising excitement about what lay ahead. The jet taxied to a private terminal somewhere in the vast expanse of Dulles International Airport and came to a stop.Langdon gathered his things, thanked the pilots, and stepped out of the jet's luxurious interior onto the foldout staircase. The cold January air felt liberating.Breathe, Robert, he thought, appreciating the wide-open spaces.A blanket of white fog crept across the runway, and Langdon had the sensation he was stepping into a marsh as he descended onto the misty tarmac."Hello! Hello!" a singsong British voice shouted from across the tarmac. "Professor Langdon?"Langdon looked up to see a middle-aged woman with a badge and clipboard hurrying toward him, waving happily as he approached. Curly blond hair protruded from under a stylish knit wool hat."Welcome to Washington, sir!"Langdon smiled. "Thank you.""My name is Pam, from passenger services." The woman spoke with an exuberance that was almost unsettling. "If you'll come with me, sir, your car is waiting."Langdon followed her across the runway toward the Signature terminal, which was surrounded by glistening private jets. A taxi stand for the rich and famous."I hate to embarrass you, Professor," the woman said, sounding sheepish, "but you are the Robert Langdon who writes books about symbols and religion, aren't you?"Langdon hesitated and then nodded."I thought so!" she said, beaming. "My book group read your book about the sacred feminine and the church! What a delicious scandal that one caused! You do enjoy putting the fox in the henhouse!"Langdon smiled. "Scandal wasn't really my intention."
The woman seemed to sense Langdon was not in the mood to discuss his work. "I'm sorry. Listen to me rattling on. I know you probably get tired of being recognized . . . but it's your own fault." She playfully motioned to his clothing. "Your uniform gave you away."
My uniform? Langdon glanced down at his attire. He was wearing his usual charcoal turtleneck, Harris Tweed jacket, khakis, and collegiate cordovan loafers . . . his standard attire for the classroom, lecture circuit, author photos, and social events.
The woman laughed. "Those turtlenecks you wear are so dated. You'd look much sharper in a tie!"
No chance, Langdon thought. Little nooses.
Neckties had been required six days a week when Langdon attended Phillips Exeter Academy, and despite the headmaster's romantic claims that the origin of the cravat went back to the silk fascalia worn by Roman orators to warm their vocal cords, Langdon knew that, etymologically, cravat actually derived from a ruthless band of "Croat" mercenaries who donned knotted neckerchiefs before they stormed into battle. To this day, this ancient battle garb was donned by modern office warriors hoping to intimidate their enemies in daily boardroom battles.
"Thanks for the advice," Langdon said with a chuckle. "I'll consider a tie in the future."
Mercifully, a professional-looking man in a dark suit got out of a sleek Lincoln Town Car parked near the terminal and held up his finger. "Mr. Langdon? I'm Charles with Beltway Limousine." He opened the passenger door. "Good evening, sir. Welcome to Washington."
Langdon tipped Pam for her hospitality and then climbed into the plush interior of the Town Car. The driver showed him the temperature controls, the bottled water, and the basket of hot muffins. Seconds later, Langdon was speeding away on a private access road. So this is how the other half lives.
As the driver gunned the car up Windsock Drive, he consulted his passenger manifest and placed a quick call. "This is Beltway Limousine," the driver said with professional efficiency. "I was asked to confirm once my passenger had landed." He paused. "Yes, sir. Your guest, Mr. Langdon, has arrived, and I will deliver him to the Capitol Building by seven P.M. You're welcome, sir." He hung up.
Langdon had to smile. No stone left unturned. Peter Solomon's attention to detail was one of his most potent assets, allowing him to manage his substantial power with apparent ease. A few billion dollars in the bank doesn't hurt either.
Langdon settled into the plush leather seat and closed his eyes as the noise of the airport faded behind him. The U.S. Capitol was a half hour away, and he appreciated the time alone to gather his thoughts. Everything had happened so quickly today that Langdon only now had begun to think in earnest about the incredible evening that lay ahead.
Arriving under a veil of secrecy, Langdon thought, amused by the prospect.
Ten miles from the Capitol Building, a lone figure was eagerly preparing for Robert Langdon's arrival.
From AudioFile
Product details
- ASIN : B002KQ6BT6
- Publisher : Anchor (September 15, 2009)
- Publication date : September 15, 2009
- Language : English
- File size : 4292 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 658 pages
- Page numbers source ISBN : 1400079144
- Best Sellers Rank: #4,668 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
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About the author
Dan Brown is the bestselling author of Digital Fortress, Deception Point, Angels and Demons, The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol and most recently, Inferno. Three of his Robert Langdon novels have been adapted for the screen by Ron Howard, starring Tom Hanks. They have all been international blockbusters.
His new Robert Langdon thriller, Origin will be out on 3rd October 2017.
Dan Brown is a graduate of Amherst College and Phillips Exeter Academy, where he has taught English and Creative Writing. He lives in New England.
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In the year 2005, Dan Brown released his fourth novel, The Da Vinci Code. It soon became a world-wide sensation, outsold only by J.K. Rowling's fifth Harry Potter novel, Order of the Phoenix. Still, The Da Vinci Code is one of the most widely read books ever written. Clearly Brown hit on some sort of secret formula of entertainment. The question is, can he do it again? Does his latest novel and Code follow-up, The Lost Symbol, live up to the legacy? Well, yes...unfortunately.
The first thing one notices about this book is the jacket. Simply put, this book is beautiful. The seal of the Masonic Scottish Rite is stamped in red "wax", directly above the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C., which can be seen through a pyramidal rip in yellowed parchment. Layers of arcane symbols cover nearly every inch of the jacket, and the Washington Monument is visible through a keyhole on the spine. Nearly everything on the jacket has a meaning, including several hidden puzzles that the clever reader can decipher. They say not to judge a book by its cover, but if an exception was made for The Lost Symbol, then it would be a literary masterpiece.
But who cares how the book looks? What really matters is the story. Every Dan Brown novel centers on a secret society and its, well, secrets. This time it's the Freemasons, a world-wide organization whose roots stretch all the way back to the ancient Egyptians, and whose members range from your grandpa to the President of the United States (pick your favorite, they were all Masons). The Freemasons, however, are not so much a secret society as they are a "society with secrets", secrets that people would kill for.
The story starts with the usual shadowy ceremony, this time a mysterious tattooed man named Mal'akh being inducted into the 33rd degree of Freemasonry (this being the highest possible level). But, of course, Mal'akh has sinister, ulterior motives, as can be deduced by such interior monologues as, "They have opened their doors to me," and "Soon you will lose that which you hold most dear." Despite being something of a cookie-cutter villain, Mal'akh is actually quite terrifying, with an
intriguing back story and a knack for really ruining your day. He's also really full of himself, as can be deduced by such interior monologues as, "I am a masterpiece." Mal'akh does a lot of interior monologues.
The story then jumps to returning Harvard "symbologist" (no, there is no such thing) and lover of turtle necks, Robert Langdon. Langdon receives an urgent call from his old mentor Peter Solomon and is asked to come to Washington, D.C. right away, where he is needed to give an emergency presentation on (whom else?) the Freemasons. He catches the next flight and speeds off. Naturally things don't go too well. One kidnapping, severed hand and sinister phone call later, Langdon is racing against a 12-hour clock to rescue Peter Solomon by solving the Ancient Mysteries of the Freemasons, all for the benefit of Mal'akh.
Brown's work has been accused of using the exact same template, and The Lost Symbol is no exception. The great thing about The Lost Symbol, however, is that it manages to make a tired formula new and exciting. The tone and pace are tense and urgent as Langdon struggles to sort out the web of deception in order to save his mentor. The situations Mal'akh puts the characters through are nerve-wracking and sometimes disturbing. The puzzles and codes, being Brown's specialty, are excellently crafted and immensely fun to try and solve before Langdon. Then there are the locations. From the Masonic Temple to the Smithsonian Museum, each place that Langdon visits is a real location in Washington, and each is a fantastic set piece described in wonderful detail. Lots of surprising facts are revealed about the nation's capitol city. In fact, the entire story is full of detail that never becomes too overwhelming. There are also some small secrets (try dialing the phone number Langdon is given early in the story) and nods to the fans (a mention of one of Brown's earlier novels) that can be found throughout the story.
It's unfortunate, then, that the worst part is the ending. The Lost Symbol commits the same crime as The Da Vinci Code, by rewarding readers with--well, nothing. After the intense chase across Washington, after the deception and puzzle solving, when the Ancient Mysteries are finally revealed they don't live up to the grand name. The trouble gone through just doesn't seem worth it. Not only that, but the story rambles on when it feels like it should have ended 37 pages ago. The action comes to an abrupt halt, and suddenly the characters begin to wax philosophical. There's nothing wrong with some depth to a story, but the message Mr. Brown tries to convey seems to have been lost in translation. Even Langdon is left scratching his head at the confusing conjecture. It's tempting to recommend that readers simply stop reading after the final confrontation, but that would leave loose ends. It's a disappointing conclusion to an otherwise great story.
The Lost Symbol could have been better than The Da Vinci Code, and in some ways it is; the writing is better, the story is more skillfully crafted (and more historically accurate), and there's lots more action. But it ultimately loses points for an unsatisfactory finish and several pages of pointless rambling. Read the book and enjoy the ride, just don't expect too much at the end.
Anyway, The Lost Symbol takes place in Washington, D.C. and has Paul Langdon trying to save the life of his close friend, Peter Solomon, while attempting to unravel the hidden codes of the Freemasons and the effect they had on the founding of our nation. Sounds interesting, doesn't it?
When Paul Langdon is asked by an old friend/mentor to give a lecture in Washington, D.C. at the spur of the moment, Langdon agrees and flies to the nation's capital from Boston. Once he reaches the Capital building, Langdon quickly discovers something is wrong and that he's been duped by a very clever impostor who calls himself, Ma'lak. Ma'lak is a giant of man with his muscled body tattooed with archaic symbols. He's also highly intelligent, rich, and seeking the hidden portal that supposedly leads to enlightenment and is discussed in the ancient doctrines of Freemasonry. He firmly believes the portal is hidden somewhere in Washington, D.C. Ma'lak has threatened to kill Peter Solomon if Langdon doesn't assist him in locating the portal by midnight. To prove how serious he is about finding it, Ma'lak has left Peter Solomon's severed hand lying on the floor of the Capital building with clues to help Langdon along in his quest. Langdon, however, must deal with a C.I.A. section's chief, seeking to stop Ma'lak in achieving his goal, believing the results will tear the country apart. Langdon doesn't know what to think because all is not what it seems. It doesn't take Langdon long to realize he doesn't know whom to trust. With the clock ticking to the inevitable countdown, our Harvard professor races to unlock the secrets of our founding fathers and to find a portal that may exist or may not. If it does, then it will offer the answers to the ancient mysteries of mankind.
At the beginning of the book, the author clearly states that the scientific research he discusses in his novel is actually being carried out today. I just recently had a debate with someone who stated The Lost Symbol was nothing but fiction and had no bases for reality. I totally disagreed with him because though I don't have a background in science, I do try to stay abreast of the current research in quantum physics, astronomy, and the understanding of the human mind in its relationship to the Universe. I've also followed many of the discoveries that have been done in the area of Noetic Sciences throughout the last twenty-five years. What's discussed in The Lost Symbol blew me away its authenticity and how it's carefully woven into the plot. Brown definitely did his research and used the scientific evidence that's out there as a basis for his fantastic novel. This is part of the reason why the book was so entertaining. Clearly, not everyone who read the novel had the same reaction as I did, but what can I say.
If anyone out there has the slightest interest in man's quest to understand his place in the Universe, then check this book out for some interesting food for thought. On top of that, it's also a damn good read that has each chapter ending with a twist that literary compels the reader to go on to the next one. The Lost Symbol is certainly one of the best books I've read in the past decade, and I highly recommend it. Buy the book, read it with an open mind, and you might walk away from it like I did, saying, "Wow!"