L.B.: Boutros Boutros Carpathia 2

Left Behind, pp. 242-247

Nicolae Carpathescu, er, sorry, Carpathia, the new president of Romania and Antichrist-in-waiting, is about to speak at the United Nations.

It's not clear why he's there, or why anyone should be particularly interested in what he might have to say. He isn't an expert in any particular field. He's had less than a week of experience as a national leader.

Carpathia has been described as the "consummate politician," but in his short career so far we've only seen him make one political decision and that was a disaster. Newly elected to lead his crisis-stricken nation, he decides -- indefensibly -- to leave, taking off to America. And once in America, he doesn't head to Washington, to the superpower's seat of power, but instead he goes to the UN. There he will meet with a room full of ambassadors -- officials empowered to speak but not to decide or to act.

Strangely, the delegations from every nation seem to have remained there, in New York. Like Nicolae, they seem not to realize that their first responsibility, post-Event, should have been to return home. That's where they're needed. But instead they're here, on the East Side of Manhattan doing ... well, it's not really clear what they're doing. Today, arbitrarily, they're gathering to hear a speech from some kid from Romania.

Carpathia ... stood relaxed and smiling before speaking extemporaneously. Not only did he not use notes, but he also never hesitated, misspoke, or took his eyes off his audience.

He spoke earnestly, with passion, with a frequent smile, and with occasional, appropriate humor. He mentioned respectfully that he was aware that it had not been a full week yet since the disappearance of millions all over the world, including many who would have been "in this very room."

Our authors neglect to provide any examples of his occasional, appropriate humor, but it's good to know that in a world still traumatized by shock and grief, Nic is able to keep smiling and to give others something to chuckle over as well. The reference there to the "millions" of disappeared confirms that LaHaye and Jenkins do not count most of the world's 2.1 billion Christians as Real True believers. But they seem to be forgetting, yet again, that their rapture also included all of the world's children, which means that "millions" should be "billions" even before counting a single adult RTC. This seems like a particularly cruel fact to forget about at the site that also houses the headquarters of UNICEF.

Carpathia spoke primarily in perfect English with only a hint of a Romanian accent. He used no contractions and enunciated every syllable of every word. Once again he employed all nine languages with which he was fluent, each time translating himself into English.

Now I'm not so much picturing a young Robert Redford as I am a young Brent Spiner.

In one of the most touching scenes Buck had ever witnessed ...

It needs to be said: Never, ever start a sentence that way.

In one of the most touching scenes Buck had ever witnessed, Carpathia began by announcing that he was humbled and moved to visit "for the first time this historic site, where nation after nation has set its sights. One by one they have come from all over the globe on pilgrimages as sacred as any to the Holy Lands, exposing their faces to the heat of the rising sun."

Geography, apparently, is not Carpathia's forte. New York City is, indeed, on the East Coast but it is not therefore a part of the East. I suppose, though, that if you flew into Newark, your face might be exposed "to the heat of the rising sun" as you traveled to the U.N. from New Jersey.

"Our forebears were thinking globally long before I was born," Carpathia said. "In 1944, the year the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank were established, this great host nation, the United States of America, along with the British Commonwealth and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, met at the famous Dumbarton Oaks Conference to propose the birth of this body."

His whole speech is like this -- dull, stilted and full of the trivia of history while oblivious to its meaning. The U.S., Britain and the USSR were, indeed, "thinking globally" in 1944, but neither Little Nicky nor the authors seems to realize why. Carpathia's speech sounds a bit like a lazy schoolchild's book report -- the kind where the kid avoids learning anything at all about the big picture, instead just listing a bunch of names and dates copied out of the World Book Encyclopedia and wrapped up with a ridiculously transparent bit of padding.

Displaying his grasp of history and his photographic memory of dates and places, Carpathia intoned, "From its official birth on October 24, 1945, and that first meeting of your General Assembly in London, January 10, 1946, to this day, tribes and nations have come together to pledge their wholehearted commitment to peace, brotherhood and the global community."

This, keep in mind, is being presented as stirring oratory. "Buck was tired and felt grimy wearing two-day-old clothes," L&J write. "But his worries were a distant memory as Carpathia moved along."

And what, exactly, does Carpathia say that causes Buck to forget his worries? He recites the names of the member states of the United Nations. Alphabetically.

No, really.

He began in almost a whisper, "From lands distant and near they have come: from Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria ..." He continued, his voice rising and falling dramatically with the careful pronunciation of the name of each member country of the United Nations. Buck sensed a passion, a love for these countries and the ideals of the U.N. Carpathia was clearly moved as he plunged on, listing country after country, not droning but neither in any hurry.

It's like the opening ceremony of the Olympics, only without the music and the pageantry, and with a bunch of diplomatic funtionaries instead of the world's finest athletes. You can read a transcript of this part of Carpathia's speech in the CIA World Factbook -- just click on the "Select a Country or Location" menu bar and scroll down. Carpathia's "speech," in other words, is simply the Table of Contents for a world atlas.

Great actors are sometimes said to be so captivating, so skilled at speaking, that "You could listen to them read the phone book." But that compliment isn't meant to be taken so literally. Think of any of the great voices about whom this has been said -- Orson Welles, James Earl Jones, Judi Dench -- and try to imagine them capturing and keeping your attention by reciting this list. It's inconceivable. No one could make such a recitation bearable, let alone enthralling. And attempting to recite this list "dramatically" could only result in giggle-inducing silliness. (Go ahead and try it -- click over to the Factbook and read that list, out loud and dramatically. Emote. You'll be laughing before you even get to Djibouti.)

A charitable interpretation here would be to read the banality of Carpathia's "speech" as intentional. Perhaps L&J meant to demonstrate his awesome charisma by showing the effect he is able to have on his listeners even while mindlessly parroting a list of disconnected dates and facts laced together with vapid clichés. But the context of the rest of the chapter won't allow for such a subtle interpretation. The substance of his speech is clearly intended to be seen as inspiring, and L&J portray Carpathia's audience as being justifiably moved by what they have heard. His words are, in themselves, intended to be read as emotionally stirring, and it's not merely his supernatural, anticharismatic aura that prevents his listeners from walking out muttering that this Romanian idiot is wasting everyone's time thinking he's hot stuff because he has the building directory memorized.

A minute into his list, representatives noticed that with each name, someone from that country rose in dignity and stood erect, as if voting anew for peace among nations. Carpathia smiled and nodded at each as they rose, and nearly every country was represented. Because of the cosmic trauma the world had endured, they had come looking for answers, for help, for support. Now they had been given the opportunity to take their stand once again. ...

By the time he got into the Ss in his alphabetical listing, those standing had begun to quietly applaud each new country mentioned. It was a dignified, powerful thing, this show of respect and admiration, this re-welcome into the global village. ...

Buck found himself eager to stand as well, ruing the fact that his country was near the end of the alphabet, but feeling pride and anticipation welling up within him. As more and more countries were named and their people stood proudly, the applause grew louder, merely because of the increased numbers. Carpathia was up to the task, his voice growing more emotional and powerful with each new country name.

On and on he thundered as people stood and clapped. "Somalia! South Africa! Spain! Sri Lanka! Sudan! Suriname! Swaziland! Sweden! Syria!"

Members of the Afghan delegation, by this point, have to be kicking themselves for starting this whole stand-and-clap business. The Zimbabweans, meanwhile, are trying to figure out if they still have time to run to the bathroom and get back before their name is called since they've had to go since somewhere around Burundi.

More than five minutes into the recitation, Carpathia had not missed a beat. He had never once hesitated, stammered or mispronounced a syllable. ...

This would actually be a good time for him to hesitate, stammer and miss a beat, because right after "Syria!" comes "Taiwan!" -- and whether he says it or not, he's going to provoke some kind of international incident.

Buck was on the edge of his seat as the speaker swept through the Ts and reached "Uganda! Ukraine! The United Arab Emirates! The United Kingdom! The United States of America!" And Buck leaped to his feet, Steve right with him, along with dozens of other members of the press.

... With such electricity and power in the simple naming of all the countries who had longed to be united with each other, Carpathia had brought the entire crowd to its feet in full voice and applause, press and representative alike. ...

And there was more ...

Oh, good. There's more. What's next, a list of state birds? No, something even worse:

Over the next half hour he ... casually worked in the name of every secretary-general from Trygve Lie of Norway to Ngumo and mentioned their terms of office not just by year but also by specific day and date of their installation and conclusion. ... Then he swept through the 18 U.N. agencies, mentioning every one, its current director, and its headquarters city.

One of those agencies, again, is UNICEF. I'm not sure which is more cruelly callous -- to discuss that agency in the current context without any reference to the world's missing children, or to subject an audience to a speech in which he says things like "Boutros Boutros-Ghali served as secretary-general from January of 1992 until December of 1996" in nine languages.

The sentence above is astounding on its own, but even more terrifyingly awful in the context of the complete paragraph:

Then he swept through the 18 U.N. agencies, mentioning every one, its current director, and its headquarters city. This was an amazing display, and suddenly it was no wonder this man had risen so quickly in his own nation, no wonder the previous leader had stepped aside. No wonder New York had already embraced him.

How could New York not embrace him?

"Honey, thanks to the disappearances, I was finally able to get tickets to Wicked!"

"Never mind that now -- I'd rather go see this Romanian fellow who can recite trivia about all 18 U.N. agencies!"

After this, Buck knew, Nicolae Carpathia would be embraced by all of America. And then the world.

The connotations of that "And then the world" only underscores how wretchedly inept this whole chapter has been. Carpathia's rise should be far more ominous and creepy, more unsettling.

Bob Fosse knew how to do this scene.

A fresh-faced lad stands in the sunshine and begins to sing in an angelic voice. The words of his song, at first, seem innocent, but there's a sense of foreboding as the camera pans slowly down to reveal his smartly pressed uniform. Slowly, inexorably, the bucolic scene grows darker and uglier, building to a fierce and horrifying crescendo.

Comments

[Jesurgislac]

Once again he employed all nine languages with which he was fluent, each time translating himself into English.

So, basically, his telephone-directory speech lasted nine times as long as it should?

Then he swept through the 18 U.N. agencies, mentioning every one, its current director, and its headquarters city. This was an amazing display, and suddenly it was no wonder this man had risen so quickly in his own nation, no wonder the previous leader had stepped aside. No wonder New York had already embraced him.

Do you suppose that when the authors preach sermons, what they do is recite the begats?

[Chelsea]

Because clearly, alphabetically citing tedious lists is the gravest evil imaginable.

[PurpleGirl]

Reciting lists of names IS droning and IS boring. And it isn't a speech.

[PurpleGirl]

Great use of the clip from Caberet, too. It does indeed invoke the growing darkness... "Still think you can control them?"

[Hibryd]

Because clearly, alphabetically citing tedious lists is the gravest evil imaginable.

Clearly, it's also the most moving thing a human can do. I mean, if I saw somone rattle off trivia like names and dates in 9 different languages for what must have been hours on end (will someone please do the math of how long that would actually take, especially with applause breaks?) with no overlying theme or commentary on the significance/meaning of those names or dates, I'd be totally caught up in their charisma! Oh, wait, I'd probably think "Huh, Rainman."

But I'm sure the rest of America would "embrace" him! I mean Americans just *love* droning bookish multi-lingual know-it-alls; just take a look at our last two elections!

[Hysterical Woman]

I tried reading the list out loud. It wasn't giggle inducing, it was tiring. That isn't oratoration, it's a Guinness World Records stunt.

[Gillikin]

This is how the Antichrist's speech should have gone:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WC-AG5vigI

[Noah Brand]

Ah, the best part of the otherwise lackluster movie version of CABARET. That really IS what L&J tried and failed to convey, isn't it?

[Chelsea]

I tried calculating the time it would take to say, and pause, for each of the nations o the list, giving 15 seconds for the first...140 something nations...and 30 for the last 50 or so due to the sheer number of people applauding. Added ten seconds to say each of his 18 agencies trivias, times nine for translation. I havent even looked at the sec-gen list because I'm already at an hour and a half, three times LeJenkins' estimate. Time and again they prove their arithmetical prowess.

[JS Bangs]

Carpathia spoke primarily in perfect English with only a hint of a Romanian accent. He used no contractions and enunciated every syllable of every word.

But... someone who doesn't use any contractions at all isn't speaking "perfect English". They're speaking stilted, robotic, unnatural English that stamps them either as foreign or unbearably pretentious. I wonder if Carpathia's command of his other eight languages is as awkward?

[Skyknight]

I'm wondering if the point of the stand-and-clap routine is to show Carpathia's power over "the nations", as bequeathed to him by his lord Shaher...

[Sue W]

Yes, I can see how the most boring speech of all time would have been one of the most touching scenes the globe-trotting GIRAT had ever witnessed. He's only survived the biggest disaster in history, in which the biggest concern of most of the survivers was getting their cars home. His standards for touchingness could hardly have been unaffected as a result.

[Dean Booth]

Great analysis, as usual. Thanks.

P.S. Noah: a "lackluster movie version of CABARET"? It won the most Oscars of any film that didn't win best picture. Also, it was selected by the Smithsonian Institution as one of eight films being preserved for future generations. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cabaret_(film)

[Bugmaster]

Actually, I think that this chapter may indeed be intended to show how powerful Nicky's mountainously evil devil-mojo is (though, with LH&J, it's hard to tell). IIRC, later on there's a chapter where Buck is Saved, or Born Again, or whatever it is. Shielded by his newly acquired True Faith (*), he watches with fear and wonder as Nicky mesmerizes everyone in hearing range, while Buck himself remains unaffected. Without the True Faith, the UN dignitaries are as bunnies under the gaze of a Kiplingesque python.

(*) It's 5 points of a Merit, too !

[Ken]

Looks like Nick the Mountain's read the blurb on the cover, too.
Just playing his part as another piece on the End Time Prophecy gameboard.

(How did these hacks manage to sell FIFTY MILLION COPIES?)

[Drocket]

I can imagine how this scene COULD be creepy: having the speech viewed through the lens of someone outside Carpathia's 'influence'. Just as we're sitting here wondering what in the hell is so interesting/inspiring in a long tedious list of historical trivia, stick a character in who's wondering why everyone else in the room is so enthralled by this so-called speech. Maybe some interplay between characters as they're leaving:

Some guy: Wow, that was the best speech I've ever heard in my life!
Main character: Uh, it was just a list of countries.
Some guy: It was just so breathtaking! It was the most moving experience of my life.
Main character: It was like listening to Stephen Hawking's computer read an encyclopedia. In nine languages.
Some guy: I've never seen anything so amazing.

That would potentially be an interesting story event...

[Beth]

Someone who doesn't use any contractions at all isn't speaking "perfect English". They're speaking stilted, robotic, unnatural English that stamps them either as foreign or unbearably pretentious.

Unless, of course, they're Runyonesque. But since he also "enunciated every syllable of every word," I'm going to go with robotic.

Still, after reading about the amazing memory feats and and the audience reaction to them, I'm starting to picture Nicky as a little boy (a very young Robert Redford). He recently appeared on Letterman as The World's Smartest Kid, and now he's cashing in on his 15 minutes by doing live performances.

"Because of the cosmic trauma the world had endured, they had come looking for answers, for help, for support. Now they had been given the opportunity to take their stand once again."

It's passages like this that make me wonder whether we're reading a novel or just a pitch. "Ok, check it out. The world has just been through this, like, cosmic trauma, right? And they're all really freaked out. And so this guy Nicolae -- don't you just love that name -- he's like, really charismatic, you know? And when he gives this great speech, he's giving them a chance to take their stand again. I mean, take a stand again... stand up again .... Anyway, you get the idea, right? So by the end of the speech, they're totally into him."

[bulbul]

Best. LB post. EVER. And the Cabaret reference is just perfect. Bravo, Fred.

I also suspect that Nicky's speech at the UN also shows L&J's view of intelligence and education. To them, learning a few historical facts and dates, several names and one or two lists by heart and then reciting them without stuttering or skipping a beat amounts to absolute genius. An evil one, too.

[stinger]

I had two thoughts: L&J probably expect believers to find the various lists of biblical "begats" enthralling; and long lists of names, dates, headquarters cities, etc., would have a hypnotic effect - which hypnosis may be how Nicky Alleghenies gains mind control over people. Certainly "no contractions" wouldn't do it.

[cjmr's husband]

Looks like Nick the Mountain's read the blurb on the cover, too.

Clarification request: Has Nicky read the cover? Does he know who he is? I've been assuming so.

[Rosina]

Do you think he had to say each country's name in 9 different languages - Ten for those countries that don't use one of his '9 fluent languages'. In fact, English is a tenth fluent language: "Once again he employed all nine languages with which he was fluent, each time translating himself into English." So that's 9 fluent, plus English, and plus the official language(s) of the delegate country.

It is however good that he went along with the Roman alphabet - no one would have known what to expect if he had used the Greek alphabet, where countries get seriously bumped or advanced from their Latin hierarchy because of transliteration processes. Delegates would have been jumping up and down, trying to work out what the name of their country was in Greek - and where in the alphabet did that letter come!

I accept that the name Carpathia just doesn't work in Romania, but calling people after towns, cities and other geographical features is not always a problem: Washington, Lincoln, and Grover Cleveland. In England it works well, and I did briefly wonder if LH&J had stolen the idea from Georgette Heyer, who regularly called characters after British villages. If they did thus reveal an interest in English genre fiction, did they get the idea that Nicholae Knob Hill looked like a young Robert Redford from Reginald Hill's Child's Play, where the investigative reporter is always described in those terms (by those who have to identify him). It is handled in what I am sure is a more imaginative way, and allows various changes to be noted again as how it detracts from the likeness.

But I am sure that neither Heyer or Hill would be on their reading list.

[Sue W]

I can imagine how this scene COULD be creepy: having the speech viewed through the lens of someone outside Carpathia's 'influence'.

We're obviously never going to get that perspective since the authors write the scene as if they themselves were under Carpathia's irresistable spell. While we the readers are the ones going "What the frip...?" They talk as if it goes without saying that of course a guy with such awesome powers of name-dropping would instantly sweep the world off its feet. That's how all the great leaders of the past worked their audience, right?

[Grumpy]

Since I can't grasp what sort of reaction the audience was supposed to be having, I'm totally baffled by this:

"Buck found himself eager to stand as well, ruing the fact that his country was near the end of the alphabet..."

So, like, stand up already! Nobody's checking passports if you applaud early, dude.

[ako]

I like the idea of having Buck (who's presumably reporting on the speech) try to explain it to someone else at the paper.

"You should have heard it! It was brilliant! Amazing! The guy's not just a politician, he's a statesman! I think Nicolae Carpathea will go down in history as one of the greatest world leaders of all time!"

"So what'd he talk about? The disappearances?"
"Yeah, he mentioned those."
"Mentioned? What'd he say?"
"That he was aware that it hadn't been a week since the disappearances?"
"And?"
"Well, that was it, really. But it was how he said it. It was very moving."
"That was it? No plan? No ideas? No effort to get countries off their butts and get this solved? What if the vanished people don't just pop back? They could be stuck somewhere! Somebody has to start showing leadership on this thing! For a moment, I thought your guy might have something."
"Oh, if anyone can fix it, it will be him. He's so knowledgeable! Listening to him talk! He named all the countries in the world, and it was..."
"He...named all the countries."
"Yes. You should have seen it!"
"Like this?" She pulled out the almanac, and began reciting in a monotone voice, "Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria..."
"Yeah, but...no." Buck shook his head. "It was..."
"The way he said it?" She raised her eyebrow.
Buck rubbed his face. "It made sense at the time."
"You all right? How much sleep have you been getting? I know we're all...after everything...well, none of us is that sharp at the moment."

Of course this would have involved Buck's plotline not including a ridiculously bad and completely pointless stint as Secret Agent Man.

[Shannon]

The analysis is amusing and enlightening, as usual. However, I like the revival of Cabaret's version of that scene even better than the movie. The Emecee with a record player playing that song, and then at the very end, he snaps the player shut and whispers at the audience "to me" with this evil, evil look. It makes you shiver. The reprisal of that song is quite good as well.

[Shannon]

The analysis is amusing and enlightening, as usual. However, I like the revival of Cabaret's version of that scene even better than the movie. The Emecee with a record player playing that song, and then at the very end, he snaps the player shut and whispers at the audience "to me" with this evil, evil look. It makes you shiver. The reprisal of that song is quite good as well.

[Noah Brand]

(Yes, Dean, I thought the movie version ate it. I'm aware that it was very popular at the time, but that makes it no more watchable for me. Of the various versions of the story and characters I've seen, from Isherwood's original writings through to the late-90s revival, the movie version is the worst. IMHO, of course.)

I've figured out what's with this writing. Yes, it's unbelievably bad, but it is strongly assertive. Not a page goes by without the text asserting something firmly, even though it's never anything that survives a moment's though. As Fred has pointed out, it's the epitome of tell-don't-show writing.

Which is exactly why it resonates with its audience.

The people who I've known who actually enjoyed these terrible books are all people who are basically opposed to the use of critical thinking. They strongly prefer to simply be told what's true and what to think, and LB certainly delivers on that score.

Folks like us, we look at these assertions of travel times, moving speeches, and brilliant reporting, and we ask "Does that make sense? Is that true?" because that's what we're trained to do. Not so the LB fans. From their perspective, why would one ask whether Carpathia's speech is moving? It SAYS RIGHT THERE that it is. How can there be any further debate on the subject?

You'll note it's the same attitude they take towards religion, most especially the Bible, or what they've been told is in the Bible. If it says right there that God appointed George W. Bush supreme commander of the bestest country in the world, you must be crazy not to get it. I mean, it says right there.

[Bugmaster]

The more I play Warhammer: Dark Crusade, the more I imagine Nicolae Carpathescu speaking with the voice of the Chaos Commander.

Nick: Forces of the U.N. ! BOW to me.
The U.N.: Whaaat is your nnnnghwish ?
Nick: I am here to LEAD you !
The U.N.: Nnnghyes, Looord !

...ok, too many skirmishes for Bugmaster... Still, it would be nice if he talked like that in the Left Behind game. He's a playable character, right ? Right ?

[adrienne]

I remember discussing this scene with a close friend a couple years ago when I made my own attempt at reading through the entire Left Behind series. (I only made it through the end of the fourth book. After that, it stopped being amusingly stupid, and just angered me.) It's always been the scene in the first book that stood out most strongly to me.

Throughout this book-- and really, throughout the series-- there is (as has been mentioned on this blog before) a strong theme of distrust for intellectualism-- which is understood as a pitiable stumbling block to knowing the Truth (as it is articulated by right-wing PMD evangelicals). Carpathia is more or less considered to be a consummate intellectual-- fluent in many languages, well-read, brilliant, etc.-- and here, in this speech, we get to see Carpathia's apparent intellectualism at works.

What emerges, then, in this scene is this: LaHaye and Jenkins really have no idea what an intellectual is, much less how one might think. Our intrepid authors seem to vaguely conceptualize an intellectual as someone who "knows stuff," who memorizes a lot of facts, who acts-- and apparently speaks-- as a human encyclopedia. The "facts" bit is important-- this is what L&J seem to think the intellectual deals in. They think, in other words, that intellectuals cleave to a truth that is as absolute and incontrovertable as they believe their own to be.

That intellectualism might have anything to do with creativity, with critical thinking, with understanding that interpreting "facts" is a flexible business-- L&J do not understand. They simply assume intellectualism is nothing more than a firm distrust of anything you can't either see in front of your face or read in an academic treatise-- and a corresponding rigid belief in anything you do see or read in those contexts. And this is why they cannot engage, through Chloe or any other character, with any actual intellectuals.

Of course, it's debatable as to whether or not they're interested in doing so. They seem more interested in gloating to the tune of "we're right, you're wrong; we're going to heaven, you're not; ha ha ha." But I find it interesting to note how thoroughly they condemn a way of thinking that, this scene shows, they patently do not understand.

[Bugmaster]

Now that I think about it, to an utterly ignorant person, an intellectual would seem like a walking encyclopedia. Ask them a question, such as "why is the sky blue ?", or, "what is the capital of Romania ?", and they can answer it ! Instantly ! If the ignorant person in question also happens to be stupid, they will assume that this nigh-omniscient level of knowledge (which, in reality, is just a result of paying attention in high school) is all that separates intellectuals from "normal" people -- because stupid people are not intelligent themselves, and they cannot tell what intelligence is. So, even if LH&J have been talking to all kinds of intellectuals for the past 20 years, they still wouldn't be able to comprehend what it is that makes them truly different.

[Edo]

(*) It's 5 points of a Merit, too!

What sourcebook are you working out of? In Vampire: the Dark Ages, True Faith was a 7-point Merit, not counting the bonus points to boost your Humanity to 10.

[ako]

Carpathia spoke primarily in perfect English with only a hint of a Romanian accent. He used no contractions and enunciated every syllable of every word. Once again he employed all nine languages with which he was fluent, each time translating himself into English.

Now I'm not so much picturing a young Robert Redford as I am a young Brent Spiner.

That is interesting, because the only fictional characters that I can think of at the moment who do not use contractions are Data, and Storm from the X-Men. In both cases, the device is used to show how odd they are, and to distance them (albeit in different ways) from the other characters. It certainly does not, and is not intended to put characters at ease, and it does not mesh well with a character being shown as exceptionally charismatic.

Also, going out of their way to mention how he enunciates every syllable of every word makes me picture little Nicky Andes speaking in the awkward and artifical style of a speech therapist or an ESL teacher drilling a student on a particular word or sentence. So "Our forebears were thinking globally long before I was born," comes out something like, "Our FOREbear(er?)s were THINK-ing glo-BAL-ly long BE-fore I was born."

[@Edo]

Hey, you're right. It's been a while since I played Vampire... Do you really have to boost your Humanity to 10 before you can take the Merit ? Don't you enter Golconda when you reach Humanity 10, anyway ? This would be a big problem for Nicolae...

[cjmr]

Also, going out of their way to mention how he enunciates every syllable of every word makes me picture little Nicky Andes speaking in the awkward and artifical style of a speech therapist or an ESL teacher drilling a student on a particular word or sentence. So "Our forebears were thinking globally long before I was born," comes out something like, "Our FOREbear(er?)s were THINK-ing glo-BAL-ly long BE-fore I was born."

Remember the old Hooked on Phonics commercials? "OVer-WHELming EVidence SHOWS..."

[Reverend Ref]

More than five minutes into the recitation, Carpathia had not missed a beat. He had never once hesitated, stammered or mispronounced a syllable. ...

Damn! Antichrist or not, I'm sure I could use him this coming Sunday (1/21). And I'm just as sure that my scheduled lectors would be happy to let him read in their place, since this Sunday we get Nehemiah 8:

". . . and beside him stood Mattithiah, Shema, Anaiah, Uria, Hilkia, and Maaseiah on his right hand; and Pedaiah, Mishael, Malchijah, Hashum, Hash-baddanah, Zechariah, and Meshullam on his left hand."

I can just imagine it now . . . "How captivating! How enthralling! How mesmerizing!"

Great, what did you think of the sermon?

"There was a sermon?"

And that seems to be LB in a nutshell: incredibly focused on minute and meaningless details while totally avoiding any substance. Just recite the party line and all will be assimilated.

[Spherical Time]

A few minor points:

1. Once again he employed all nine languages with which he was fluent, each time translating himself into English.

I don't read that as Carpathia reading every section in 10 languages. I think that I would read it as Carpathia reading a different section of his speech in one of his "other" nine languages, and then repeating it in English.

That would mean that he's saying each section twice, not ten times.

2. One of my old English teachers in high school (not one of the good ones, obviously) once told me that in a formal essay, you should avoid contractions. Obviously she taught L&J before I had her, and they've decided that speaking without contractions implies formality and gravitas.

3. One by one they have come from all over the globe on pilgrimages as sacred as any to the Holy Lands, exposing their faces to the heat of the rising sun.

If I recall correctly, the UN building is on the Upper East side. So, if you are in NYC, you're facing East as you walk toward the UN.

If Fred's analysis is correct and L&J messed up their directions, this would be the second time in the novels that the sun rises in the West, and sets in the East. The first time occurs when L&J have a problem with time zones in during "The Event" near the beginning of the book.

Finally, I just want to say that the quality of the comments is nearly as high as the quality of the posts. Kudos to both Fred and the other commentators here.

[Sarah Dylan Breuer]

It's true, of course, that the authors of LB are very, very bad writers. I have to say, though, that cataloguing examples of just how little research they do -- of just what kind of massive prehistoric sea creature would be able to deliver the kind of bite in the posterior it would take to get people this clueless to see good dialogue, or real research, or narrative coherence -- seems a little like the proverbial shooting fish in a barrel.

There's a very important question that I'd like to see your views on when we come across such examples of astonishingly bad writing in LB:

What is it about this book that has motivated astonishing numbers of people not only to buy it ad read it, but to treat it as a kind of scripture to be read as literally and interpreted as being as authoritative as the scriptures themselves? Why do portrayals of evil that no sane person would fall for sound compellingly scary enough -- or SOMETHING enough -- for people to buy it?

[Tehanu]

It reminds me of a very bright girl I knew in junior high in the 60s -- a straight-A student -- who told me with absolute conviction that the Septuagint Bible had been written by 70 scribes who, while they were copying it out, did not make one single typographical error (or whatever you call a typo when you're talking about handwriting). It was at that moment that I realized that straight A's had nothing to do with actual intelligence and that religion could warp your brain.

[cminus]

Still, it would be nice if he talked like that in the Left Behind game. He's a playable character, right ?

Yep. To unlock him, get the radio out of the first electronics store in the third scenario and the bullhorn from the trunk of the burning police car at the end of the fourth scenario. Stand on the top of the church stairs next to the police car, tune the radio to Dr. James Dobson's radio show and listen until your independent thought meter drops to zero. Then use the bullhorn to recruit 20 new Republican voters, or 15 in a swing state, before the Unitarian Jihadis skydive onto the map.

@edo: Hey, you're right. It's been a while since I played Vampire... Do you really have to boost your Humanity to 10 before you can take the Merit ? Don't you enter Golconda when you reach Humanity 10, anyway ? This would be a big problem for Nicolae...

It's been a long time since I looked at the books myself, but yes, I'm reasonably sure that you do need to be at Humanity 10 in order to have True Faith. Not sure about Golconda, but I think Humanity 10 alone isn't enough to cut it.

[Bugmaster]

What is it about this book that has motivated astonishing numbers of people not only to buy it and read it, but to treat it as a kind of scripture to be read as literally and interpreted as being as authoritative as the scriptures themselves?

One word. "Marketing".

Well, that, and the fact that these people are pre-disposed to believe anything that they're told by someone in a position of authority. Especially religious authority.

[Spherical Time]

Beyond marketing, I think that it's because the books don't challenge their faith.

With all of the challenges to faith that life presents, don't you think they appreciate reading a book that simply agrees with everything that believe? It's like escapist romance or escapist fantasy.

That's why I think they're so popular.

[Sue W]

It's like escapist romance or escapist fantasy.

Trashy novels without the sex.

[cjmr]

Now if LH&J really wanted to make the reading of the list of names an impressive acheivement, they should have had him say the names of the countries with each name in the official (or dominant) language of that country. That would actually be impressive. Mind you, that would have required that they do some actual linguistic research, not just copy the index of the World Atlas.

And if the guy is supposed to be fluent in English, why is he using such stilted language? Who says 'distant and near'? Or 'where nation after nation has set its sights'?

[Edo]

That last post was me.

Also, since nobody's mentioned it already, I recall (from a visit to the UN) that they had real-time translators. Crews of them, a bunch for all six UN languages (which, incidentally, Carpatiescu speaks.) Which means, to make the entire situation even more absurd, that not only is he saying the same thing ten times, but anybody listening to their headphones will wind up hearing it repeated in their UN language of choice twice as many times - assuming that the translators actually dub his running translation.

Screw waiting for the Tribulation Force to take a shot at him: I'm surprised that Nicolae doesn't get bum-rushed by the disgruntled real-time translators halfway through. It'd probably be much cooler than the actual assassination attempt that goes down several volumes from now, too.

Although I don't have any experience with their jobs and thus won't attempt to roleplay it, a brief scene watching the translators' booths going apeshit over the busywork would be amusing too.

[Amanda]

People in this particular subset of Christianity look for entertainment and other leisure activities that are "safe" -- not interesting, or challenging, or informative -- just safe. Something that reinforces your views. Something that's safe to enjoy around your toddler. No cursing, no ungodly flesh showing, etc. Perhaps something a 2-year-old isn't going to understand, but nothing that's going to make you squirm if they ask you to explain it. (You don't even have to have a 2-year-old -- that's just a general rule; if it's unfit for a 2-year-old, it's unfit for you.) Nothing that makes you think too much -- just something that takes you along for a ride then drops you gently back into your living room, none worse for the wear.

Thus the huge market for Christmas with the Kranks, Plus One, even things like FOX News (try Paul and Jan Crouch's program if FOX is a little too salacious for your tastes). It's not going to challenge you, just going to occupy your time in a way slightly more enjoyable than watching paint dry. And that's all they're looking for, really.

[Col Bat Guano]

and with occasional, appropriate humor

Yes nothing lightens up a worldwide disaster than a few jokes by a politician. Maybe surfing jokes after the tsunami would have helped everyone heal?

[SV]

On and on he thundered as people stood and clapped. "Somalia! South Africa! Spain! Sri Lanka! Sudan! Suriname! Swaziland! Sweden! Syria!"

HE FORGOT SWITZERLAND!!!

(Or was that a spoiler?)

[ako]

HE FORGOT SWITZERLAND!!!

Switzerland didn't join the UN until 2002, so at the time they wouldn't have been listed.

[Constantine]

He used no contractions and enunciated every syllable of every word.

So, basically, he'd fit right in with the slightly-autistic students at the Computer Science department of any largish engineering school...

In defense of L&H, what they're trying to do with Carpathia's speech is try to show how the anti-Christ is adept at "connecting" with everyone. In a sense, part of charisma is making each individual spoken to feel like he's valued by the speaker. On an individual level, having Carpathia recognize each and every UN agency director when he meets them and ask them questions about their agency probably would make Carpathia a compelling, charismatic presence to everyone he met. However, when he just repeats their names and agency during a long speech, not so much...