Post by Dante on Jul 26, 2009 8:10:21 GMT -5
Accepted.
Good grief, I've written a lot for this chapter.
~Chapter Thirteen~
“...any more than the Baudelaire orphans will ever read Chapter Thirty-Nine of Mushroom Minutiae, no matter how crucial such a chapter might be.” Pretty important, huh. This seems to be one of those things raised without any indication of where it could possibly have gone, which is a shame. Anyway, I’ll stick by my earlier thoughts on this – it was probably encoded information that was valuable, rather than details of any actual visitable fungal ditches.
Lemony specifies that “the violet hour” refers to the evening sky. I mention this so that I can later raise a misinterpretation of the coded message that people have made.
“I think how terrible it would feel to be chased out of a cloud by the process of precipitation, and tumble to the earth like a sugar bowl.” Again, foreshadowing of what happens to the sugar bowl in the following book – which has been fairly precise where it refers to the sugar bowl. Of course, at the time of TGG, we had no idea that the sugar bowl would be delivered to the Hotel D. by carrier crow, so the speculation about this line was sometimes inverted – for example, that it might be retrieved by the Baudelaires, but lost once more when the SSHAMH came under attack. (That was my prediction, I think.)
“And I think of how heartbroken I would feel to gather once more… and feel… that I had reached the last safe place, only to have the tables turn…” Pretty bleak view of TPP right there, but we all knew that it wasn’t exactly going to be a happy ending if there was still one book left. Or ever, for that matter.
“Count Olaf said that if I helped him destroy the last safe place, he’d help me find my stepfather.” Which is an extraordinarily generous offer on Olaf’s part. Of course, malevolent interpretations have been suggested – that Olaf already has Widdershins sitting in a cell at the bottom of his sub, or will drag Fiona off to find Widdershins so that Olaf can murder him. But as Esmé points out, one shouldn’t be so sure they’re on opposite sides of the schism. The whole family is volatile. With Fernald and Fiona on his side, Olaf might harbour hopes that he can win over Widdershins and all his secrets (not to mention the Queequeg). I think it’s more interesting if Olaf means it. But I trust a couple of statements in this chapter that other people deny outright.
“You said you wanted to come with us when we escaped in the Queequeg and joined V.F.D. at the last safe place.” Well, no he didn’t… he said he wanted to come with them when they escaped in the Queequeg. V.F.D. and the last safe place didn’t come into it.
“All those silly volunteers with their precious libraries and complicated codes—they’re fools, every last one of them. I don’t want to sit around reading idiotic books! He who hesitates is lost!” I get the feeling that Olaf has been employing some mind tricks on Fernald in-between Chapters Eleven and Thirteen – reminding him in strong terms why it is that Fernald is on the fire-starting side rather than the fire-extinguishing one. Fernald never explicitly denied feeling any of these things in Chapter Ten, but his mood is a distinct turnaround.
“And tell Triangle Eyes to stay here and guard the orphans… I don’t want her to take all the good stuff for herself.” Well, most of it would probably belong to her anyway, and she’s not going to be the best guard. But this is Carmelita’s suggestion; nobody’s asking her to be competent, or to respect other people’s property. That’s not what this side of the schism is about.
“I also find this amusing!” Best response to the villainous laughter in the whole book.
“You risked your lives to save Sunny. How can you ask me to abandon my brother?” Not a question that’s particularly answered by the Baudelaires, but the emotional blackmail with the old photograph must be a knife in the gut.
“My mother is dead… My father moved away… My stepfather has abandoned me…. My brother may not be as wonderful as you Baudelaires, but he is the only family I have.” “Stay with him if you must… but let us go.” The Baudelaires get the point. They’re not going to convince her to change sides, because her feelings are understandable. Fiona loves her family, and she’s only known the Baudelaires a few days.
“We might be on opposite sides of the schism, Fiona, but that doesn’t mean we can’t help one another.” It’s a real shame that Fernald and Fiona never appear again, as this dynamic could’ve been really interesting. TPP was doing something different, and Handler probably realised that Fernald and Fiona would’ve complicated matters too much, but the thought of what could have been is a tempting one. I was looking forward to seeing how this was handled. Instead, it was avoided.
“Count Olaf knows more secrets than you’ll ever learn.” Ironically, Olaf’s knowledge is part of his corrupt soul. More on this in the final book.
“Still, I found a small jewelry box hidden in the barracks, with a few valuable items.” “I think the ruby ring is very in… It would look wonderful with my flame-imitating dress.” “That was my mother’s…” “She would have wanted me to have it… We were close friends at school.” I think this is the first time any of Esmé’s outfits are named. Esmé’s claim that she was close friends with Fiona’s mother at school – while I doubt very much any claim that Fiona’s mother would’ve wanted Esmé to have the ruby ring, and even that they were close friends, I like to think that they were at least at school together, and that the statement isn’t a total fabrication. I think it has a kernel of truth; if the whole thing were a lie, it’d be too easy to disprove. This does clearly have an impact on assessments of Esmé’s age, though; before TGG, we’d probably have thought Fernald and Esmé were about the same age, but she must be old enough to be his mother if she went to school with his mother. Take it or leave it, but once again, I think this is one of those things which is more interesting if it’s true.
Hermes points out that it seems gratuitously harmful for Fiona to reveal to Olaf that the helmet contains Medusoid Mycelium, but if she hadn’t said it, her brother would have – given that he started to do that very thing by telling Olaf that “I think you’ll want that helmet for yourself.” And frankly, with Olaf and Esmé and Carmelita around, it’s probably best if they all know what’s in the helmet so they don’t go throwing it overboard or opening it or something. Knowing that it contains Medusoid Mycelium, there’s as good a chance that they’d leave it in Fiona’s care as that they’d lock it up. Of course, the two are separated after this book… how ironic, that an almost accidental item ends up being more important than the characters this book introduced. Actually, this is probably why genuine poisoning rather than hypochondria – Handler realised that he could put a helmet full of poisonous mushrooms to good use in the final books.
“That fungus was destroyed long ago.” Which is why the villains would never have thought that the sugar bowl contained either Medusoid Mycelium or an antidote for same; they thought the fungus didn’t even exist any more.
Would Fiona be able to persuade Olaf not to waste the fungus? Probably. I imagine Fernald would’ve backed her up. But Esmé backs her up on entirely different grounds, anyway. Opening up the helmet and tossing it into the brig with the Baudelaires would’ve been insanely dangerous, though – Olaf would risk poisoning himself and his whole submarine. Ideas like that caused the destruction of Anwhistle Aquatics.
“With the Medusoid Mycelium in our grasp, who can stop us now?” I see this as the ultimate distinction between our two small McGuffins containing crucial items – while the Medusoid Mycelium is offensive in nature, the sugar bowl is defensive. Otherwise you’ve just got two super-weapons, one of unspecified identity. But we’ll come to TPP.
The appearance of the Question Mark at this moment is perfect. It’s not quite a deus ex machina, as all it really changes about the heroes’ circumstances is that the Baudelaires temporarily get left in the Queequeg rather than being thrown in the brig and having to be snuck out by Fiona. But it is a crucial dramatic moment and it shows the villains’ perspective on the Question Mark, too.
And we see that it puts them in as much panic as it did Widdershins. “This octopus is no match for that thing.” They’re clearly under the impression that the Question Mark is going to attack them. One would be naturally cautious of an enormous and mysterious object approaching one’s craft undersea. And given that the Carmelita could capture the Queequeg, and the Question Mark is bigger than both, it could probably swallow the octopus whole.
“Esmé, go whip our rowers so they’ll go faster!” Aha. I only just spotted this. The heroes evade the Question Mark by being completely silent – “the world is quiet here.” But the villains whip their rowers and focus on running away very fast. I think this is more of a difference of opinion than it is that the Carmelita just couldn’t be quiet. The octopus doesn’t even seem to have engines. It’s powered by child labour. …So why would V.F.D. have such a thing? Ah, maybe it was damaged when it was captured – the volunteers might even have sabotaged the original engine so that it couldn’t be used – which is why Olaf needed to locate a bunch of children to get it going again.
“Triangle Eyes, take the orphans to the brig!” The hurry means that Olaf can’t watch over this personally.
“But no tap-dancing! We don’t want to show up on their sonar!” Again, an indication that the Question Mark is another submarine – say what you like about aquatic animals using echolocation, but this’d be a strange way of wording it. However, it is just Olaf’s opinion. We don’t know if he knows what the Question Mark really is.
“…followed by the hook-handed man, who gave the Baudelaires an awkward wave.” A comical expression indicating his lack of style over his villainous bosses, or an indication of continuity with Chapter Ten?
“Your luck is over at last… For far too long, you keep defeating my plans and escaping from my clutches—a happy cycle for you orphans and an unprofitable one for me. But now the tables have turned, Baudelaires.” One of my favourite passages in TGG, as it shows just how different things are to Olaf. He’s not even far wrong – every single book they’ve defeated Olaf and his schemes.
“You’ll have to repair that one yourself, Sunny.” “Cook… Cook and teeth.” Hahahahaha.
For those who aren’t fans of the U.A.’s map, TGG provides another godsend – from a position fourteen nautical miles southeast of Gorgonian Grotto, Briny Beach is directly north. The map Briny Beach is hard to picture as being directly north from anything not on land.
The Baudelaires’ escape quest should be advantaged by the fact that the Carmelita should be swimming away from the Question Mark at a fair pace, too, but the escape sequence reads as though Olaf’s submarine is stationary.
The directions out of Olaf’s submarine seem downright improbable, too, and I’m not sure how the Queequeg is being propelled.
“He was wrong about his wife’s death, because as Fiona suspected, Mrs. Widdershins did not die in a manatee accident.” The earlier reference to this incident was that Fiona didn’t think it was an accident, but this outright says that either the manatee accident didn’t occur, or Fiona’s mother isn’t dead. Whatever the truth is, it seems that Captain Widdershins isn’t in on it – which means she’s probably dead, rather than in hiding. But this reads wrong to me for there having been an incident which could’ve been construed as a manatee accident but wasn’t.
“Captain Widdershins was wrong to trust his stepson for so many years” – which indicates that Fernald’s villainous tendencies originated far earlier than the rest of the book would have us imply – or that he left and joined Count Olaf’s troupe but Widdershins didn’t think any the less of him for it.
“…and wrong to participate in the destruction of Anwhistle Aquatics…” Whatever happened in that incident, Widdershins was involved. It strikes me that Fernald and Widdershins probably worked together to destroy Anwhistle Aquatics, with Fernald taking the lead; perhaps this was something Widdershins shouldn’t have trusted him about? Maybe the Medusoid Mycelium never did escape, and Fernald was taking preventative/offensive measures?
“…and he was wrong to insist, as he did so many years ago, that a story in The Daily Punctilio was completely true, and to show this article to so many volunteers, including the Baudelaire parents, the Snicket siblings, and the woman I happened to love.” Several things here. First, continuing on from the red herring allusions in THH and the U.A., the Baudelaire parents are identified separately from the woman Lemony loves – implying that Beatrice isn’t the Baudelaire mother. It’d be a strange way of wording it if she were. However, Lemony also refers to “the Snicket siblings,” which is also a strange way of referring to three siblings of whom he is a member. So this passage is just a bit off in several ways, although you can argue if you like that “the Baudelaire parents” refers to Bertrand’s parents. Which article was it, do you think? I’ve generally stuck to the view that it’s one pinning Olaf’s crimes on Lemony – the one which forced Lemony into hiding and broke up him and Beatrice (per TVV, I think). However, some of the language in the passage is a bit off for it to be that article, and it doesn’t quite fit with the fact that Lemony is still in good stead within V.F.D., so perhaps it’s a different article entirely.
Perhaps the identities of the sinister duo are another of those secrets too terrible for anyone to know, given that everyone is so afraid of them that they can’t even speak those names? In this case, it isn’t some resonance that the secret has, some light it casts on events, that is terrible; it’s secret because people wish the sinister duo were as secret, as easy to hide away. The Question Mark, however, is secret by nature – the truth of its existence is so terrible that Lemony outright refuses to tell us what it is. He says that the Baudelaires “could not even tell” but that he “will not tell” – that’s quite a difference. Lemony also raises the possibility that the Question Mark is “some ghastly creature of the sea,” a suggestion present in no other part of the book, but which has had some popularity over the years. He also suggests that, even if it is mechanical, it may not be a submarine. I think he’s not hinting at anything but just giving the broad picture, though – the Baudelaires can’t tell what it is from where they are, and Lemony’s not giving anything away by being specific.
“They merely saw an enormous shadow” – my position was that it was a metaphor for the entirety of mystery that the Baudelaires had encountered, and as such that its nature should never be revealed. Thank goodness I was right – although The End does put it through a kind of metamorphosis to stand instead for the ultimate mystery, that of death. Both accord with this description, which accords with Widdershins’s recollection of the shadows on the cave wall.
““Shh,” Violet said, although no one had spoken. It was the gentle, low shushing one might do to comfort a baby, crying in the middle of the night over whatever tragedy keeps babies awake in their cribs, and keeps the other members of the baby’s family standing vigil, a phrase which here means “keeping nearby, to make sure everyone is safe.” It does not really mean anything, this shushing sound, and yet the younger Baudelaires did not ask their sister what she meant, and merely stood vigil with her, as the shape disappeared into the ocean of the night, and the children were safe once more.”
A few points of note. The noise “Shh” specifically is used twice before in TGG – once by Klaus when Sunny is going to sleep after her poisoning ideal, and once by Olaf to shut up Carmelita. In both these cases, the noise is used, in a broad sense, to quiet children, and that’s also how Lemony takes it here in his explanation. But I feel we should be getting something more of this – that this should be some explanation of the Question Mark in some way, that Violet’s had some insight into its nature. But I can’t think of any answer that would satisfy this description – the spectre of unborn children’s rage? The phantom of the Baudelaire parents? What is the storm, and who is being guarded?
The Queequeg has apparently propelled itself right up the sands on Briny Beach. Many people asked what on Earth people were going to make of a random submarine full of secret documents abandoned on an ordinary public beach, but evidently Widdershins reclaimed it at some point. Or maybe Fernald and Fiona reclaimed it and met up with Widdershins later – we don’t know.
Oh, and a prophecy regarding Violet, stones, and second visits to Briny Beach is fulfilled from the BBRE, making it disappointing that a contingent prediction was not.
“Gack!” and its accompanying definition are the same as they are in TBB, although I feel that Mr. Poe’s approach should have been lingered on a little.
When Mr. Poe showed up, I was as astonished as the Baudelaires to think that he might have been a member of V.F.D. all along. But no – he was directed here by an unknown force. “I received a message saying that you’d be here at Briny Beach today… The message is signed J.S… I assume that it’s that reporter from The Daily Punctilio—Geraldine Julienne.” A few things. This is the first mention of Geraldine Julienne’s name outside of the U.A., and I’ll be talking about her again when we cover TPP. Secondly, J.S. standing for Geraldine Julienne? I could buy Mr. Poe misreading the handwriting, but then we wouldn’t get to see that it was really a J.S. Maybe he thinks J.S. stands for Julienne, and then some non-name word like Signature or a synonym for “reporter.” Julienne, Star [Reporter]. That might work. But the main issue is that someone working with V.F.D. would not have interfered with this process. The Baudelaires being picked up at the beach by a member of V.F.D. for an urgent mission would probably not even be in the interests of Justice Strauss or Jerome Squalor, who I think at this point have probably been hired by V.F.D. independently – given that in the evening that day they pop up at Hotel Denouement having spent the day and night watching the skies for crows (and they do refer to the use of Vision Furthering Devices in the daytime). As such, this must be the work of another J.S. – a villainous one who wants the Baudelaires out of the way. (Also, again, the more interesting explanation.)
VIOLET TAXI WAITING – I accept entirely the explanation Violet gives, that Quigley just wanted to say Violet’s name and was able to use the poem to do so. However there have been complaints, not only that the taxi isn’t violet in colour but also that the Baudelaires caught a taxi in the morning rather than at “the violet hour” – the latter being to fail to understand the code entirely, and the former being addressed in the narrative.
The ending, from the moment Violet opens the taxi door, should send shivers down a reader’s spine. At this moment we are shaken out of the ordinary world and taken into V.F.D. proper – not newly-revealed side-characters determined to keep the backstory from us, but someone we know from the U.A., and who looks very much a professional rather than like a cartoon character.
Endpiece: The final illustration had, as identified by readers at the time, not one but two clues – the “Hotel D” cap, which was rather prosaic as it was generally agreed that the Baudelaires would reach the Hotel Denouement by the next book (especially with the headed notepaper in the Kind Editor letters), but it was also considered that the blimp over the city represented the SSHAMH. There is, however, a degree to which we must question how much even Helquist knew about each following book. To my recollection, there are one or two endpiece illustrations where he’s shown knowledge of the plot of the next book, but most can be drawn from the Kind Editor letters, and the endpieces of TGG and TPP are much more questionable.
Having six Kind Editor letters, all irreparably damaged, ratchets up the tension… also note that the Hotel Denouement’s stationery has the V.F.D. insignia on it. Subtle, guys, subtle – but when we read TPP we will already question how the villains could not have known that it was a V.F.D. operation, so I’ll let this pass. Some different kind of explanation will be required.
We are not informed, for the first time, of the title of the following book. This was very exciting for all of us, although in fact it’s very normal for book publication. It changed things up on us… increased the danger. It also allowed for the creation of that legendary effort, The Nameless Novel, which I shall discuss in greater detail when we begin TPP. But let me return to the present. It is often suggested, based on the first letter, that the letters have been torn apart by Lemony’s enemies who have very long fingernails. The fake fingernails used by, for instance, Olaf in his disguise as Shirley might do the trick. Also, some people speculated that the title of Book the Twelfth would be “The Lousy Lane,” apparently forgetting or not caring that it was a) a place name, and b) an uninspiring title.
The question has been raised of whether there were ever full versions written of some of the damaged letters. I think not, as some things have evidently been shoved into each simply to sound mysterious (like “—trice” in the TCC letter), but where phrases or words have been cut off mid-sentence, one is justified in asking what on Earth someone might have been about to say for “Do NOT USE THE ete”.
Fourth letter: In retrospect, “a cup of very bitter” was probably going to be “a cup of very bitter tea.” So you see, some things did exist.
The fifth letter is actually one of the easiest to “reconstruct” as it’s very consistent. “Galway Kennel” has, thank you aSoUE fans, been identified as a reference to the American poet Galway Kinnell.
That the sixth letter is even more torn than the rest is disturbing. Again, it’s one we can reconstruct – we already knew that the laundry room of the last safe place, Hotel Denouement, was important. The reference to a title, presumably the unknown title of the twelfth book, is yet more mysterious. However, we cannot guess at what “Her name,” might mean.
