MB Civic

Ethan Gilsdorf  |  May 18, 2006  |  The Boston GlobeTHE WORLD is bracing for tomorrow’s opening of ”The Da Vinci Code” film, based on the massively selling novel by Dan Brown and directed by Ron Howard.

Think what you will of the novel: Some say work of literature, others say trashy read. But remember: It is a work of fiction. So is the film. Brown and Howard are entitled to twist the reality of both past and present — geography, physics, theology — to suit the needs of their narratives. They aren’t the first novelists or directors to do so.

The problem is not with Brown’s book. It’s with his readership and, soon, the audience of the film. The real danger is that some fans take the events of ”The Da Vinci Code” as truth, not as a work of fiction. They mistake a compelling if formulaic page-turner for actual history.

This summer, in the wake of the film, hordes of tourists will descend upon France, England, and Scotland, wielding their ”Da Vinci Code” like guidebooks, and wondering why treasures aren’t really buried under Rosslyn Chapel and the gift shop of the Louvre.

It’s as if people were learning their civics, grammar, and how-to-live lessons solely from reruns of Saturday morning ”School House Rock” and ”After School Specials.” (Actually, many of us did.) Or, more troubling, as if websites by fringe groups like white supremacists or Holocaust deniers were being taken for Gospel. By some, they are.

How did we lose the ability to distinguish an invented story from a piece of information? Who’s to blame for this shift in perception?

One might complain that citizens have become lazy or have willfully poorly educated themselves or have not made time to read broadly, to question authority, and to be active and critical thinkers. But it’s not merely the fault of the populace.

Another force is at work. The borders between ”real” and ”make-believe” have become increasingly confused by that amorphous, headless entity, the media.

”Reality TV” is shot and reported like ”the news” and purports to be the record of ”what is.” Yet what could be more contrived than a random group of people forced to survive on a desert island or endure gross-out dares?

Hollywood, seeking ever more powerful movie-going experiences, mines the daily headlines for tragedy-laden scripts. In a recent Globe interview, Paul Greengrass, director of the hyper-real ”United 93,” insisted his audiences can tell the difference between cheap thrill-rides and serious matters. But exiting the Cineplex from his harrowing film, we wonder, ”Are we meant to be informed, entertained, or horrified?”

Technology offers a new species of chameleon to go with every buying season. At electronics trade shows, video game designers unveil another ”world” that is more high-res and lifelike than the one before. For added shock, memoirists like James Frey pump up their lives with steroid-enhanced experiences. In this very newspaper, advertisements cleverly mimic the layout of news stories. The media changes its skin so many frequently, who can know its original color — or sin?

Meanwhile, elected officials quit public office to become lobbyists, while on the other side of the revolving door, industry moguls become secretaries of governmental departments. This week, Tony Snow, a former ”Fox News” host, became a mouthpiece for the Bush administration. It’s no wonder the public, savvy as they are, might be confused.

Yes, some reality does seep into pop culture. But let’s leave the historical record to more authoritative sources — i.e., historians. And do better to recognize which is live, and which is Memorex.

Novelists like Brown can help. His preface — that ”the Priory of Sion . . . is a real organization,” that ”all descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents, and secret rituals in this novel are accurate” — could use a revision.

As for Paris this summer, the Louvre will be magnificent, as always. But visitors seeking the shadowy atmosphere of ”The Da Vinci Code” will be bummed out by all the crowds. Then there’s St.-Sulpice Church, site of some cloak-and-dagger activity in the novel, which denies all ”fanciful allegations in a recent best-selling novel.”

A disclaimer posted in the church continues, ”Please also note that the letters P and S in the small round windows at both ends of the transept refer to Peter and Sulpice, the patron saints of the church, and not an imaginary Priory of Sion.” Just don’t call it a French conspiracy to dupe the American public.

Ethan Gilsdorf, a poet, freelance writer, and teacher, lives in Somerville, MA.