Pers: a Very Feeble Discourse on some Lemony books

If you were looking for something interesting or wise, you might find it very disappointing to read something mundane and tedious, such as a paragraph that begins “If you were looking for something interesting or wise, you might find it very disappointing to read something mundane and tedious, such as a paragraph that begins “If you were looking for something interesting or wise, you might find it very disappointing to read something mundane and tedious, such as a paragraph that begins “If you were looking for something interesting or wise, you might find it very disappointing to read something mundane and tedious, such as a paragraph that begins “I warn you right now, there will be spoilers, so read something mundane and tedious, such as “If you were looking for something interesting or wise, you might find it very disappointing to read something mundane and tedious, such as a paragraph that begins “If you were looking for something interesting or wise, you might find it very disappointing to read something mundane and tedious, such as a paragraph that begins “If you were looking for something interesting or wise, you might find it very disappointing to read something mundane and tedious, such as a paragraph that begins “If you have continued this far, you must be quite persistent – or you missed the hidden warning. The Series of Unfortunate Events, by Daniel Handler (aka Lemony Snickett), is a strange melange of books. The intended audience is murky, although I’d settle for 8- to 15-year-olds who are persistent. The text is – dare I say? – a schizophrenic mix, alternating between a tedious litany of unpleasant circumstances and a surprisingly inventive “author’s voice” – Lemony Snickett’s, that is – which uses and subverts various literary devices (such as the above) to infiltrate the story. In fact, as we find, it’s not only the author’s voice, but the author’s own narrative gradually infiltrates too, in isolated dribbles that make it unclear how much of that metastory is, indeed part of the protostory. The series has to be treated as a whole: the books are each relatively short, and at first tend to follow a laborious archetype, where the three orphaned Baudalaires find themselves in an impossible, intolerable and tedious predicament, only to extricate themselves in equally impossible fashion. One has to persist through five books of this before the real mystery appears, in The Austere Academy. Thereafter, they are plagued by VFDs of one sort or another, beginning with a job lot of Very Fancy Doilies. Only at the eighth book, The Hostile Hospital, do they even escape the pattern of suffering at the hands of successive, risible guardians, who usually run their own equivalents of salt mines to suffer the children through. However, thereafter the real plot blossoms, a tale of villains, VFDs, schism and arson that finally rewards that cursed persistence. Yet that’s a tad unfair, because the humour, literary devices, and author’s voice do help sustain through the preposterous predicaments. All the signs indicate the series was carefully plotted as a whole – but does it work as a whole? On the one hand, there is a certain vapidity to each book taken in isolation. As if there is little to show for the labouring. And the real plot takes several books to gain momentum; it’s easy to imagine that many people – adults and children – would not have the patience to wade through the earlier episodes. And then, some who did would not find the rewards sufficient. Perhaps it depends how sympathetically the protagonist Baudalaires are received, but I for one get a little weary of the tying up of the ribbon (Violet) and the impossibly useful teeth (Sunny). On the other hand, there are riches to be had for both adults and children. The characters develop – well, Sunny does in particular - and that gradual change is done well. The humour and devices are quite enjoyable, and sometimes particularly ingenious. The lessons learnt are pertinent, such as the perils of trusting what you read in the newspaper, or fighting fire with fire – and often quite subtle, such as the perils of believing someone to be wholly good or wholly bad. Structurally, the series could have been tightened, particularly in the earlier episodes. But while tinkering at the margins may help, I get the feeling it’s possible to defend most aspects of the series as a literary work. Particularly if you regard persistence as a virtue.