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Post by Foxy on Jan 16, 2019 10:39:15 GMT -5
Dear Dairy,
Ishmael said he knew we would come here. Violet, Klaus, and I gave him the third degree. “Who are you?” I asked when it was finally my turn to ask a question. Maybe when I open up my restaurant on this island, it will be court-themed, in honor of Justice Strauss.
Ishmael told us a long story which seemed to be about people we knew, but really wasn’t. He talked about a man being murdered in a small village. “Jacques,” I said, which meant, “I did not murder my uncle. And who is doing the accusing here, anyway?”
Ishmael kept going with his story. “Yaw,” I interrupted, opening my mouth as wide as I could, which meant, “This story is becoming long and terribly boring, and it is putting me to sleep.”
Ishmael said he sent our parents away and made the colonists eat boring foods. “Jojishoji,” I said, which meant, “I don’t believe that abridging the freedom of eating and the free use of spices is the proper way to run a community.”
I started thinking about all my favorite spices, from cardamom and marjoram to nutmeg and turmeric. Ishmael kept talking. “Lethe?” I asked, which meant, “Wait, could you repeat that? I forgot what we were talking about.”
Klaus, Ishmael, and Violet kept having a conversation, and Viper hissed at Ishmael. I looked down at Viper.
He doesn’t have any covers over the outlets.
“Electra.”
Yes, and now that you are more mobile, we have to make sure your curiosity doesn’t get the better of you.
Viper seems to be getting a bit overprotective of me.
Ishmael said we could stay on the island if we agreed to live a boring life. Klaus tried to barter with him. “And spices?” I added. I miss the strong taste of ginger.
I used to have a friend here on this tropical island. He was a good comrade because he had opposable thumbs.
“Gibbon.”
No, he was an orangutan. We left the island together on a long journey to a volcano.
“Neiklot?”
I’ll tell you more about it when you’re older.
I looked around the room some more and noticed a pie plate. I know Ishmael has cinnamon, and those bitter apples would probably taste better after they baked for a while. But Ishmael seems to have convinced Violet and Klaus to lead an uncomplicated life on the island. “No apples,” I said dejectedly, which meant, “I guess we’re not having any pie.”
[This section of The Sunny Baudelaire Diaries correlates with Chapter 10 of The End.]
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Post by Dante on Jan 16, 2019 12:58:28 GMT -5
I can appreciate that this is just the sort of chapter where Sunny in particular would feel more lost than anyone else. It's nice that Sunny remembers that there's a fifth participant in the conversation who's actually interested in addressing her on her own level.
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Post by Foxy on Jan 17, 2019 9:21:11 GMT -5
Dear Dairy,
Viper decided to stay behind at the apple tree. He said he was going to child-proof the place.
Everyone was fighting at the beach! I eagerly joined in. “What you mean what you mean what I mean?” I said, which meant, “I love a good argy-bargy!”
Everyone kept arguing, which was very entertaining to watch. Until Count Olaf showed up. He told a long story similar to Ishmael’s, and I learned from Omeros that Daddy was adopted by some orphaned children, and Count Olaf said something about Mr. Poe actually being useful, and Sadie knows who Mr. Poe is. My head is spinning more than when we went through the hedge in the taxi with Aunt Kit.
Then Ishmael shot Count Olaf with a harpoon gun.
[This section of The Sunny Baudelaire Diaries correlates with Chapter 11 of The End.]
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Post by Dante on Jan 17, 2019 15:46:58 GMT -5
When you leave out the discussions that go over Sunny's head - and mercifully abridge The Little Sleigh That Couldn't - then it is a bit of a short chapter, isn't it? Sunny comes across as a bit numbed by the time Ishmael flips his lid.
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Post by Foxy on Jan 18, 2019 7:50:04 GMT -5
Dear Dairy,
Ishmael broke the mushroom party helmet, which was good news for the mushrooms, but bad news for everyone on the island.
Everyone tried to find someone to blame for the trouble we were in. “Trahison des clercs!” I cried, which meant, “If an author wrote about this many bad things happening to children such as ourselves, it would be considered a betrayal of moral standards!”
Violet and Klaus told the islanders about the arboretum, and I remembered what Viper had told me about needing root of horse. “And kitchen,” I added. “Maybe horseradish.” I wonder how Viper predicted the future.
Ishmael lied to all the colonists by saying we were lying. “Razoo,” I said, which meant, “The mushrooms told me they would stop killing us if we give them a million dollars, but I am out of money.”
Violet and Klaus confronted Ishmael, but he did not seem very worried about being poisoned. “Hightail it,” I said, which meant, “Double drat.”
Violet, Klaus, and I went back to the apple tree. “Hope horseradish,” I said. This round of mushroom poisoning was just as bad as the first round.
But we did not find any horseradish in the spice rack. We tried to think of other ingredients to help us. “Or Eutrema,” I said, which meant, “I’m having a sudden craving for hotdogs. I would like to go to a baseball game once we get better.”
Violet asked who would hide horseradish. “Our parents” I said, which meant, “Mommy and Daddy used to hide a bottle of horseradish in the back of the fridge behind the milk jug.” Daddy always told me it was in case of emergencies. I bit my whisk and tried to think. We had a serious discussion about spices, and then an even more serious discussion about reading.
I miss reading for pleasure instead of reading like our lives depend upon it. Before our home burned down, Mommy and Daddy used to read to me all the time. We would lie on the floor, and they would hold the book up and read me all kinds of stories about all kinds of things, from a famished bug to a bird attempting to operate a large motor vehicle. I decided right then and there, Dairy, that if we escaped this fate, I would devote more of my life to reading for pleasure. I think that is what Mommy and Daddy would have wanted.
Klaus finally found the answer. He read us a complicated sentence. “‘Plethora’?” I asked, which meant, “Why did Mommy and Daddy have to make this so complicated?”
Klaus kept reading, and Violet tried to solve the mystery. “Apples!” I cried as the mushrooms strangled me. “Bitter apples!” which meant, “That’s why Ishmael wasn’t afraid! That schmuck eats horseradish apples all the time!”
Violet said if we ate an apple, the fungus would be diluted. “Gentreefive,” I said, which meant, “Then we will live to see five generations of Baudelaires on this island.” My restaurant is going to make it big, Dairy. We're going to live here forever.
I got up and made it to the gap in the tree roots, but then I curled to the floor in pain. “Kikbucit?” I asked, remembering back to when Count Olaf appeared to be dead on the beach. “Tumurchap,” I said, which meant, “If you can hear me, Viper, my good fellow, please save me from becoming a corpse.”
Viper to the rescue!
[This section of The Sunny Baudelaire Diaries correlates with Chapter 12 of The End.]
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Post by Dante on Jan 18, 2019 12:20:59 GMT -5
I like Sunny's vision of what the Baudelaire parents would want. It's become harder and harder for the Baudelaires to understand their parents' lives over the course of the series, and they sure did overcomplicate things, but this simple message feels true, at least.
Nearly at the end now. It's been quite a journey.
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Post by Foxy on Jan 19, 2019 21:39:37 GMT -5
Dear Dairy,
We ate the horseradish apple, and I scratched Viper behind his ears.
Violet and Klaus said we had to save the islanders. “Stockpot,” I said, which meant, “I’ll make them some apple cider.”
Viper convinced me otherwise.
Apple cider is delicious, but it takes a long time to make.
“Phearst,” I said, which meant, “You’re right. Let’s take care of the islanders and Kit, and then we’ll make hard apple cider.”
We’ll make regular apple cider.
Violet said we had to go to the coastal shelf because the islanders were leaving. We filled the stockpot with apples and headed to the coastal shelf. Kit was having her baby, and the islanders were listening to Ishmael and leaving the island. “Safe here!” I cried, which meant, “Did you notice Ishmael’s throat isn’t filled with ‘shrooms?” I held up an apple as we continued toward the outrigger.
We tried to confront Ishmael. “In medias res!” I cried, which meant, “All the colonists will die in the middle of the sea!”
Ishmael said he was going to take the colonists to the horseradish factory on Lousy Lane, but the colonists will never survive that long. “Friday!” I cried to my second-best friend. “Take apple!” And at that point I realized why Friday seemed so familiar. She looked just like Thursday, who wore glasses like Fiona, who is siblings with Hooky, who talked about Friday and Fiona up in Count Olaf’s tower. I finally solved that mystery, but Friday and her mother left with the other colonists. We reached the edge of the coastal shelf, and I climbed onto Violet’s shoulders so I wouldn’t drown. I don’t have my water wingies.
Violet said we should go after the colonists, and Klaus said we should help Kit. “Split up,” I said, which meant, “I could use the stockpot as a boat and save the colonists.” Klaus said no.
“Kontiki,” I said, which meant, “So long, best friend.” I gave the largest apple I could find in the stockpot to Viper while Violet and Klaus weren’t looking. If they weren’t going to let me go alone, they certainly wouldn’t let a snake go alone.
I offered Kit an apple, but she wouldn’t take it. She said hybrid food is bad for babies who haven’t been born yet. Kit went on to tell us the story of what happened to the Quagmires, Captain Widdershins, and Hooky and Fiona. “Vaporetto?” I asked, which meant, “You speak lion?”
Kit said the sea monster I have been wanting to become friends with rescued our friends, and one of the Quagmires called Violet’s name. “Quigley or Duncan?” I asked, wondering which Quagmire Violet would marry, and which one I would get to marry.
I had the unfortunate task of telling Kit Dewey was dead. We needed someone to help us get Kit off the bookcube, so we went to Count Olaf. He didn’t want to help us. “Mcguffin,” I said, which meant, “After this trying day is over, I want a breakfast sandwich.”
We confronted Count Olaf about burning our house down, but he did not confess. He seemed to be on his deathbed, as he was covered in blood, but he did not confess to burning our house down. I don’t think he did it, Dairy. On my deathbed, I am going to confess all my acts of theft.
Count Olaf decided to help Kit off the raft, and then he kissed her! “Yuck,” I said. Then I had to listen to them recite poetry to each other. Then Count Olaf died, Kit’s baby was born, and Kit died. We named her Beatrice, after Mommy.
Dairy, this will be my final letter to you. I can now help write our history in the large book under the apple tree. I will no longer be in need of your milk services, as I have learned how to milk the sheep on the island. Thank you for providing me with milk since I lost Mommy.
Love,
Sunny Baudelaire
[This section of The Sunny Baudelaire Diaries correlates with Chapter 13 of The End.]
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Post by veryferociousdrama on Jan 20, 2019 1:21:42 GMT -5
Just been reading some of this - a very good and different interpretation of events. Well done. Will there be a Chapter 14?
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Post by Dante on Jan 20, 2019 5:20:00 GMT -5
Congratulations, Foxy, on reaching at least the nominal end! It's been quite a saga, and if this is the conclusion, it feels like a fitting one. I hadn't thought of the departure of the Incredibly Deadly Viper as a kind of parallel to the departure of the elder Baudelaires' own good friends, though you optimistically give them all a second chance, whether on an outrigger or in the belly of the beast; and you even absolve Olaf of a crime he merely refused to give closure on. Tying up the the problem of the three possible siblings with the same first initial also helps to support your story as its own tale with its own subplots. And Sunny's farewell to her diary, while brief as her closing lines always have been, moves the heart in showing how Sunny has progressed as a person; it's a farewell to us as the readers, too - though I hope you'll forgive me if I don't take it as a final parting for at least a couple of days. An excellent conclusion to an impressive project; so few fanfics ever reach an ending, even with the guidance of the original text.
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Post by Foxy on Jan 20, 2019 15:20:44 GMT -5
I do not have a chapter fourteen; I felt Sunny was old enough and well-spoken enough at that point to not need alternative translations.
Thank you to everyone who gave me words of encouragement along the way, especially Dante! I am not sure I ever would have kept going if I didn't know you were reading everyday.
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Post by Dante on Jan 20, 2019 16:41:08 GMT -5
That being the case, I can only say - a tremendous well-done, Foxy! This is really a very ambitious project to be finished, covering every single book from a different perspective; and I think you've done a fine job through and through, creating your own subplots and motifs and themes even while tacking close to the original text. It's been fascinating, and at times revelatory, to have a Sunny-focussed version of the series to really put her development as a character, which is perhaps particularly exceptional, in the spotlight. I really applaud your project, and the diligence and sense of fun you've brought to it. (You might want to edit the first post to add "Completed!", perhaps, to the subject line; or some other marker that the story is now over, which can be an attraction in itself.)
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Post by nisforknowledge on Jan 21, 2019 15:43:52 GMT -5
*thunderous applause*
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Post by Optimism is my Phil-osophy on May 30, 2019 21:57:33 GMT -5
Foxy! This is incredible! How much work! Great! Did you write this in book form? Sensational! And that fits so well in my theory ... Lemony would know what Sunny meant by what she left written in the island's book ...
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Post by Foxy on May 31, 2019 6:15:14 GMT -5
Thanks, Jean Lucio! Glad you enjoy the story. I just typed everything in a document on my computer, so I am not sure you would call that book form.
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