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Post by Dante on Aug 13, 2009 14:44:25 GMT -5
Of course! Now I remember... Didn't you say it had been a while since you'd read TPP, or something? He's a pretty important character in this book, although I suppose otherwise he would be kinda forgettable - just like Charles, or Hector if he hadn't gone flying off with the Quagmires. To be sure, it is hard to tell if all the J.S.s mentioned in TGG and TPP are satisfied by all the characters we know about. There may be others yet unknown; I think this is a happy void for fanfiction to fill. I know I'd handle it that way. There are surely plenty of literary allusions one could make, for example. Quite so. Helquist does great character art, and he's brilliant at crowd scenes; TPP's cover is frankly gorgeous, and the man in the top hat and the woman in the fur-lined coat are probably some of his best works. There's also the fact that his art style has evolved somewhat since the time of TAA. Frankly, I'd like to see him revisit any of the characters... or indeed do some of the characters he didn't do in the first place. Such a shame, then, that the paperbacks appear to have dropped; no more new illustrations for us, barring a miracle. They seemed to continue making lumber at a steady rate in TMM, which has to be well after their last big order. Do they just continue irrespective of if anyone wants the lumber or not? That... would be a remarkably sound explanation, yes. If they want to provide a good service, they need to constantly have a large amount of lumber on-hand, and since delivery is a separate procedure from processing, then they can afford, in man-power terms, to have production on constantly. I was rather sad too, but then the insane Janto fangirls tweeting hate mail at unrelated writers and sending packets of coffee to BBC Wales have actually made me turn my nose up rather (which I suppose is ironic). Why didn't aSoUE get fans this fanatical? Too few gorgeous bi boys, I guess. OHWAIT-- “There’s nothing wrong with caring about people… I care about you, Sir.” CURSE YOU LEMONY SNICKET FOR STUFFING CHARLES IN THE FRIDGE, JUST YOU WAIT 'TIL I SEND YOU SOME LUMBER TO COMPLAIN!!1!!!1 |
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Post by JTB on Aug 13, 2009 22:20:20 GMT -5
Perhaps that was their last big V.F.D. order. They may continue to make lumber for regular, non-V.F.D. people. It would be mighty suspicious if a company like L.S.L.M. just produced (a certain type of) lumber for a select group of people when they ask for it, and not anyone else.
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Post by Dante on Aug 14, 2009 5:39:43 GMT -5
~Chapter Seven~
“On the ninth story, a woman was suddenly recognised by a chemist, and the two of them had a fit of giggles.” One would have assumed that the chemist was Colette – retrospectively, that is, knowing that Colette was the Chapter Five chemist – so who did she recognise? I wouldn’t have thought Esmé was the sort to giggle with her, and in any case she wasn’t in disguise. So it seems hard to explain this incident, if it was indeed Colette. Maybe this is “woman” in quotes, and it was disguised Kevin?
“In the basement, a strange sight was reported by an ambidextrous man who spoke into a walkie-talkie.” Could be either Kevin or Dewey – the former last seen within the basement, the latter quite likely to head there too… however, we know that Olaf and his band are equipped with walkie-talkies, from TBB and TCC (although they lost one of them – one of the pair would have been in the caravan when it went over a cliff in the Mortmain Mountains). I wonder what they saw? For Kevin, it would have been the sight of disguised Sunny using a Vernacularly Fastened Door, and indeed he later states that he witnessed this.
“On the sixth story, one of the housekeepers removed a disguise, and drilled a hole behind an ornamental vase in order to examine the cables that held one of the elevators in place, while listening to the faint sound of a very annoying song coming from a room just above her.” Refers to the Not A Chapter chapter pictures, or rather they refer to this; also shows that the second arrangement is the correct one. I think we later gathered enough evidence to suggest that the annoying song was being played by the Volunteer Fighting Disease who’d come to the hotel.
“In Room 296” etc., the very cranky rabbi we heard about earlier.
“And in the coffee shop” etc., but this suggests that the villain in question didn’t have a tattoo… and also that the waitress might have been a villain as well, given from the fact that his lack of a V.F.D. tattoo is seen by her as a good thing, and she gives him some rhubarb pie.
The banker in Room 174 – later confirmed to be Mr. Poe, I think.
And the rest of the stories that I don’t mention are all miscellaneous mysterious parallels to the events of the Baudelaires’ story.
“Just outside the hotel, a taxi driver gazed down at the funnel spouting steam into the sky, and wondered if a certain man with an unusually shaped back would ever return and claim the suitcases that still lay in the trunk” – suggests that Olaf’s henchmen, who were stolen away in TSS, have had to use taxis, or work as porters at the hotel? Well, Hugo is quite literally working at the hotel right now. The taxi driver probably isn’t the one from Chapter Ten, since he has been driving Justice Strauss around.
“…and on the other side of the hotel, a woman in a diving helmet and a shiny suit shone a flashlight through the water and tried to see to the murky bottom of the sea.” I think this is the swimming woman from TGG, and also the woman in the taxi trunk later – partly as it makes sense to conflate these non-contradictory characters, and partly because… well, I’ll get to this in Chapter Ten.
“…and in yet another city, neither the one where the Baudelaires lived nor the one I just mentioned, someone else learned something and there was some sort of fuss, or so I have been led to believe.” Parodies everything that we’ve just heard, and the entire series.
“Curiously, their errands as concierges kept them in the lobby for the rest of the afternoon” – more like “Conveniently,” for the plot, am I right? Of course, interesting things might have happened, but not so interesting as to require interrupting the flow.
“Who is J.S.? …Is he a man lurking in the basement, or is she a woman watching the skies?” Firstly, a woman probably wouldn’t impersonate Jacques very well, but secondly, this pairing suggests the J.S. in the basement was Jerome – a conclusion I am entirely happy to accept, as it fits with what I’d thought about earlier. He was probably scouting out the laundry room.
Also, it’s just struck me that: “We have one more day to solve these mysteries…” But in the end, they don’t, and the trial is moved forward a day. This and some of the other time compression suggests to me that Handler’s plotting eventually wound up in excess of the in-plot time he actually needed… consider TGG, where they spend a whole day at the end of the book travelling without even speaking. Handler gave the Baudelaires a week from TSS, but he could probably have managed just giving them five days or less. That would also have resolved the plot hole resulting from the fact that the message about the meeting would have to have been left the day they found the message, or it would refer to that same day.
“If the crows drop a heavy object like that… it will fall straight down into the pond.” Klaus’s initial supposition turns out to have been entirely correct. They spend the rest of the book faffing about over laundry rooms and whatnot – going nuts over yet another red herring, just like in TEE.
The J.S. conversation is building up to a reveal, suggesting that the arrival of Jerome Squalor and Justice Strauss is meant to resolve the J.S. subplot. However, we still never learn who was meant to be impersonating Jacques Snicket, who was lurking in the basement, who Quigley copied his telegram to, who summoned Charles and Sir, or who sent Mr. Poe to Briny Beach. Several of these can be covered by Jerome or Strauss. But the J.S. who sent Mr. Poe to Briny Beach is a gap, as it is required to be a villain and Olaf wouldn’t work for several reasons.
Note, from the middle illustration and others, that Helquist fills the Hotel Denouement with awesome eye-like architecture that’s referred to nowhere in the text. But it feels right.
Notice that Dewey never unfastens the rope he climbs down the clock from. It should still be dangling there later. Also, there is later an implication that he has some kind of hideaway in the clock mechanisms, which is pretty cool and overlaps with the movie incarnation of Snicket, who was hiding in a clock tower for some reason.
“Of course there’s a catalog… You don’t think I’d organise this entire building according to the Dewey Decimal System and then neglect to add a catalog, do you?” This suggests that Dewey is the brains behind the Hotel Denouement. Frank’s just a decoy manager, of sorts – and Ernest might not even be a real manager at all. I think I’m going to increasingly go with this theory that Ernest isn’t really an official Hotel Denouement manager and just snuck into this easy role upon learning that it was V.F.D.’s last safe place. This also allows him to have been excluded from the creation of the catalog, which he should totally know about if he’d been a manager from the beginning. However, you still need mad fanon to explain why he never tells anyone that he has another secret sibling. So maybe it’s not so bad that you’d need fanon to explain why he never tells anyone about the catalog or that the hotel is V.F.D.’s last safe place or anything like that.
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Post by Dante on Aug 15, 2009 4:36:53 GMT -5
~Chapter Eight~
“The word “Denouement” is not only the name of a hotel or the family who manages it, particularly nowadays, when the hotel and all its secrets have almost been forgotten, and the surviving members of the family have changed their names and are working in smaller, less glamorous inns.” Suggests that management of the Hotel Denouement is a family business, which is roughly true; it was built within the lifetime of Sir and Charles, and therefore presumably of the Denouement siblings, but the Denouement siblings are the managers and presumably had a strong hand in its construction. Well, Dewey certainly did. Also note that this passage is written long after the series takes places, and also suggests some members of the family survived the fire at the end of the book… unless there were some obscure cousins or something. Olaf later claims to have wiped out the rest of the Denouement family, but given that he never knew about Dewey, we must doubt his ability in this field.
I feel that Handler tripped up a little in his definition of “denouement” vs. “ending” by making up completely fresh endings to various fairy-tales; I think that didn’t do much for people who already found the terms confusing. Nonetheless, we have it confirmed right here that TPP is the denouement of aSoUE and The End is the ending itself – the “falling action” after a denouement: “As the Baudelaire orphans followed the mysterious man out of the hotel and through the cloud of steam to the edge of the reflective pond, the denouement of their story was fast approaching, but the end of their story still waited for them, like a secret covered in fog, or a distant island in the midst of a troubled sea, whose waves raged against the shores of a city and the walls of a perplexing hotel.” So you can see that it was fairly clear at the end of TPP, even without a real Kind Editor letter or anything, where The End would be set.
“I’m Dewey Denouement… The third triplet. Haven’t you heard of me?” Suggests that the notion that Dewey exists is well-known, but unconfirmed. What this says about Frank and Ernest is unclear; Ernest seems like he should be spreading the information that Dewey exists, but on the other hand, his villainous associates thought Dewey was just a myth all the same. I assume rumours arose based on documents that could be misinterpreted, or apparent sightings of three managers in different or the same places at the same time.
“Frank and Ernest get all the attention… They get to walk around the hotel managing everything, while I just hide in the shadows and wind the clock.” Darn. Confirmation that Ernest’s a real manager. I thought I had a real fix back there. Also, note that Dewey seems very resentful of his reclusive existence; how many non-villains have “scowled” before? “That’s what I don’t like about V.F.D… All the smoke and mirrors.” Smoke and mirrors – so you can see how well the Hotel Denouement was crafted by Handler to fit his choice of motifs for this book.
“Before the schism… V.F.D. was like a public library. Anyone could join us and have access to all of the information we’d acquired. Volunteers all over the globe were reading each other’s research, learning of each other’s observations, and borrowing each other’s books. For a while it seemed as if we might keep the whole world safe, secure, and smart.” As I’ve said a couple of times now, pre-schism V.F.D. is identified as being a kind of golden age for society; there’s also a hint of this in TCC, when Olivia says, “They say that long ago it was simple and quiet, but that might be a legend.”
“I was four years old when the schism began… But one night, just as our parents were hanging balloons for our fifth birthday party, my brothers and I were taken.” The collocation here suggests that the origin of taking came with the schism, not before. Perhaps it was suddenly necessary to hide noble children to protect them from the torchings that their parents’ homes would soon receive. Could the Snickets have been taken at the same time? If Kit and Jacques were four, Lemony really would have been a baby, as the U.A. hints was the case.
“The woman who took me said that one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways. And she took me to a place high in the mountains, where she said such things would be encouraged.” Edith Wharton quotation.
“They perished that very night… in a terrible fire.” So it looks like the schism, while sudden, suddenly precipitated a great many fires. …Or this is all just Dewey’s perception of it, and he never knew what was happening behind the scenes. Of course, he was just four, but this is when things changed for him; the schism could already have begun. Not that it really matters. I assume the age of four is picked because that’s the sort of age when children get some idea of self-perception and learning? That sort of thing.
“Once there were safe places scattered across the globe, and so orphans like yourselves did not have to wander from place to place, trying to find noble people who could be of assistance. With each generation, the schism gets worse. If justice does not prevail, soon there will be no safe places left, and nobody left to remember how the world ought to be.” I think that… while the series does end with there being no safe places left, this is construed as being something of a good thing – a suggestion that we should participate in the world. I think Handler’s disagreeing with Dewey and that in fact there are still people who remember how the world ought to be, not always doing it loudly or conspicuously but quietly reading and promoting those values in others. Which is why aSoUE is eventually about the real world. In-universe, the schism worsening with each generation may be a means of explaining the apparent schism in the U.A.’s Building Committee transcript.
“Why weren’t we taken, like you?” “You were… You were taken into the custody of Count Olaf.” Uh, Dewey, that’s not what she was asking. You were four. Violet was fourteen. I guess it’s because they had volunteer parents – or that the Baudelaire parents had their own plan for their children, one we never learn. I think it’s odd that Olaf’s taking of the Baudelaires is construed as being similar to volunteer recruitment. I guess both involve someone else becoming guardian of volunteer children, but this is all very shady.
“And he tried to keep you in his custody, no matter how many noble people intervened.” Again, I don’t think Dewey gets it. Olaf was going to kill them. This wasn’t about having custody of the children, it was about the fortune.
“We’ve searched the childhood home of the man with a beard but no hair, and interviewed the math teacher of the woman with hair but no beard.” This and another reference later in the book I think un-dramatises the sinister duo, which I’m slightly unhappy about. They were better in TSS.
“…and we’ve thrown important items out of the windows of our destroyed headquarters, so they might wind up somewhere safe at sea.” Despite interpretations, this doesn’t refer to the sugar bowl – TSS says that the Baudelaires would never meet the brave volunteer who threw the sugar bowl through the window, and the headquarters wasn’t already destroyed when that happened, and Dewey or Kit would have held onto the sugar bowl rather than throwing it into the sea.
“…I am crying as I type this, and it is not because of the onions that someone is slicing in the next room, or because of the wretched curry he is planning on making with them.” Taken by some as indicating that Hal survived the Hotel Denouement fire and Lemony is presently staying with him. I think that’s an over-reading.
“…and their closest friends were high in the sky, in a self-sustaining hot air mobile home, battling eagles and a terrible henchman who had hooks instead of hands…” Um, sorry? We learn in, what, the next chapter that Fernald and Fiona betrayed Olaf and took off in his submarine, and we learn in The End that they joined Widdershins and Kit again and went to fight the eagles in the Queequeg. So why is it asserted here that Fernald is helping the eagles, or at least is also fighting against the SSHAMH? As I suggested earlier, the only explanation would seem to be garbled information… unless there’s another character with hooks instead of hands.
“…and at the sound of an approaching automobile, they looked to see two more blessings arriving via taxi…” I should just note that I’m not sure why Jerome and Strauss would’ve been far enough away to require a taxi to get here. They should’ve been in the vicinity of the hotel all this time.
“J.S.!” I think, as I mentioned earlier, that this is meant to resolve the subplot, since it’s never mentioned again, but as I also mentioned earlier, I’m not satisfied.
“…and when I heard the dreadful news about Dr. Montgomery I began searching for you.” She seems to have done a pretty shoddy job of that.
“Eventually I found other people who were also trying to battle the wicked villains of this world…” It sounds like Justice Strauss has been having adventures not dissimilar to those of the Baudelaires.
“Volunteers were leaving me messages everywhere—at least, I thought the messages were addressed to me.” “And I thought they were addressed to me… There are certainly plenty of people with the initials J.S.” “I began to feel like an impostor.” So I guess this is meant to close off the supposed Jacques Snicket impersonation, then, but on the other hand it’s not too bad an explanation for how Olaf might have been concealing himself in the last safe place.
Also, since I’ve pointed this out before, Jerome’s had less than a fortnight to write his book on injustice. Still, I think this is sort of a logical progression for his wimpy character, to become a reader and ultimately a writer himself; his engagement with important literature to an extent redeems him.
“As one of the first volunteers said a very long time ago, ‘Though boys throw stones at frogs in sport, the frogs do not die in sport, but in earnest.’” I think there’s a deliberate pun on “Ernest” there – I wonder if he threw stones at frogs as a boy? – but most importantly, this “first volunteer” was an ancient Greek poet. I think he’s probably one of those “honourary” volunteers I’ve hypothesised.
“I’m afraid to report that we couldn’t see a thing from the other side of the pond.” Which isn’t far, so why did they need to get a taxi back?
Interestingly, despite the fact that Dewey apparently anticipated that people would think the sugar bowl would end up in the laundry room, he seems surprised that Jerome and Strauss also think this.
“Justice Strauss learned that the harpoon gun had been taken up to the rooftop sunbathing salon.” Which suggests that the two J.S.s haven’t been across the pond all day – which also allows them to have been doing things like lurking in the basement attracting Esmé’s attention.
“It’s like my comrade always says… Right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.” Which should identify Kit to readers as the comrade Dewey mentions so often. However, the “Wrong!” which follows this suggests that Dewey and Kit are philosophically incorrect here. ASoUE’s really quite bleak in that fashion.
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Post by JTB on Aug 15, 2009 11:08:33 GMT -5
Also, since I’ve pointed this out before, Jerome’s had less than a fortnight to write his book on injustice. So you think that it's been two weeks since TEE? Interesting - let's see. Maybe two-three days at the Squalors', three days at V.F.D., a day or two at THH, two-three days at TCC, a day or two in the Mortmain Mountains, no clue how long in the Queequeg, to here. It's been a terribly long time since I've read books 1-6 (haven't had any time at all for reading lately  ), so I apologize for the incorrect dates. But add those up and its 12-13 days. So you're right - maybe this is Jerome's rough draft? Also, this chapter is a pretty interesting, and upon reading it, Dewey seems less mannered than most - criticizing his brothers for getting all the attention, asking (IMO) rudely "Haven't you heard of me?", etc. But, I still like him. He seems to represent all the mystery and confusion in the Baudelaires' lives. |
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Post by Dante on Aug 15, 2009 11:37:22 GMT -5
So you think that it's been two weeks since TEE? Interesting - let's see. Maybe two-three days at the Squalors', three days at V.F.D., a day or two at THH, two-three days at TCC, a day or two in the Mortmain Mountains, no clue how long in the Queequeg, to here. It's been a terribly long time since I've read books 1-6 (haven't had any time at all for reading lately ), so I apologize for the incorrect dates. But add those up and its 12-13 days. So you're right - maybe this is Jerome's rough draft? Worse than that. Jerome's only been searching since TVV, so he's had even less time than that because it's only been the days of THH through the first bit of TPP. A rough count of mine came up with about ten days. You can literally count all the days that pass from TVV through TPP, so it's not too big a problem. I didn't read "Haven't you heard of me?" as rude, but more... curious, perhaps? Or just a little cryptic? Dewey does start out unexpectedly sulky, though. Dewey's a sub-sub-librarian, though, and in exposing himself he gets out of his depth. He tried to guard all the world's secrets on his own, but that's too much for one man to handle. He is destroyed and cast to the bottom of the quite "unfathomable" lake to rest there forever with all his forgotten secrets. Dewey may represent something, but it's not something that's in control. |
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Aug 15, 2009 23:12:09 GMT -5
I've been reading these re-read threads, and I find the concepts of the schism and and the morality issue interesting, especially in TPP. It's always been a key topic of interest of mine, the way the history of V.F.D. is portrayed. It's fascinating, really. And the differing opinions on whether the schism began over a sugar bowl, a newspaper article, or a clash in ideologies parallels so much with our own world in that we don't know why we're following certain traditions that have gone on for thousands of years. It's no wonder I enjoy topics on ancient and contemporary history.
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Post by Dante on Aug 16, 2009 6:30:00 GMT -5
~Chapter Nine~
Note that, while Count Olaf has dropped his previous evil laugh – in a heavily signposted fashion, just so we’re clear, and so it’s also clear that it was meant to be annoying – then he still has an evil laugh. I don’t think he has one in The End, although he’s pretty hyperactive otherwise.
“You’re one of those idiotic twins! I should know! Thanks to me, you two are the only survivors of the entire family!” Bizarrely, this suggests that Olaf was the one who burnt down the Denouement home, which can’t be true as he must only be about the same age as them, having gone to school with Kit, who is if anything a little younger than them.
“Triplets run in my family…” Used by some to suggest the Quagmires and Denouements are related… I think it was also suggested that Kit might have triplets. That would’ve been a bit overboard, though. Anyway, what it might suggest is that one of Dewey’s parents was also a triplet, and thus he might have lots of cousins, and Olaf may well have finished off them.
“You can’t just grab children as if they were pieces of fruit in a bowl!” Hey, he mentions a bowl, do you think it could be TEH SUGAR BOWL
“I have associates lurking everywhere in this hotel.” Not that we ever see any. It would be interesting to meet more real allies of Olaf. We see a fair few volunteer allies in this book, though – one could count Charles and Hal among them, for example.
“Why, Hooky and Fiona double-crossed me just yesterday, and let you brats escape! Then they double-crossed me again and stole my submarine!” Olaf’s timing is off. It wasn’t yesterday. It would’ve been two days ago – the Hotel Denouement clock has struck one, so it’s now Wednesday morning, and the Baudelaires escaped from Olaf’s submarine on Monday. Anyway, more importantly, it’s established that Fernald and Fiona took off in Olaf’s submarine, which is why they’re absent from this book (and every remaining book). One wonders why, precisely, or where they went, but there are plenty of good reasons; for example, they might have decided to stick together without working for Olaf, which is something they could easily and reasonably do. They might be going to search for Widdershins.
“Those people don’t count… They’re not associates of yours.” “They might as well be.” This one finally shuts the door on the always improbable theory that Mr. Poe was in some way working for Count Olaf.
“Only if they’ve managed to survive my eagles” – they’re not Olaf’s eagles, though. If they were, however, it might explain why Fernald was supposedly fighting with them against the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, although at that time he would already have defected from Olaf. Maybe the sinister duo delegated eagle control to Olaf since they were so busy, although with his submarine’s fly-swatting device he shouldn’t need them.
““There are no truly noble people in this world.” “Our parents,” Sunny said fiercely. Count Olaf looked surprised that Sunny had spoken, and then gave gave all three Baudelaires a smile that made them shudder. “I guess the sub-sub-librarian hasn’t told you the story about your parents,” he said, “and a box of poison darts. Why don’t you ask him, orphans? Why don’t you ask this legendary librarian about that fateful evening at the opera?” The Baudelaires turned to look at Dewey, who had begun to blush.” We learned earlier that the Baudelaire parents had been given some poison darts by Kit at the opera, and that Esmé tried to prevent this. Now we learn that they did something fairly unambiguously non-noble, and that Dewey is embarrassed about it. …Simple embarrassment seems not good enough a reaction, actually, but it would be otherwise hard to get the point across. It’s not something Dewey’s proud of – that’s what we’re meant to get out of this. And that suggests that Olaf is correct.
“Food and drink are the most important aspect of every social occasion, and our in recipes—” Again suggests a sinister aspect to the planned food for the cocktail party, given that everything before this has had a wicked side.
“You’re the one who should flee!” This line of Justice Strauss’s only makes sense if she and her allies had themselves just been warned to flee – which they hadn’t. So I’d suggest this is something of an artifact from a previous edit – a minor one, but you get the idea.
“Your cocktail party will be cancelled, due to the host and hostess being brought to justice by the High Court!” Oh just give away the whole plan why don’t you, Justice Strauss. Or did the villains already know about the trial? They don’t seem surprised. It really is everyone but the Baudelaires at this point who know what’s going on.
“Hidden somewhere in this hotel is one of the most deadly fungi in the entire world. When Thursday comes, the fungus will come out of hiding and destroy everyone it touches! At least I’ll be free to steal the Baudelaire fortune and perform any other act of treachery that springs to mind!” Olaf’s plan confirmed – mass murder. Rather than blackmailing people, as suggested in TGG, he’s going to use the opportunity to destroy anyone and everyone who can incriminate him or hold him back.
“You won’t dare unleash the Medusoid Mycelium… Not while I have the sugar bowl.” Interesting. Why, one wonders? This suggests that the sugar bowl is a weapon powerful enough to counter the Medusoid Mycelium in some fashion – like some sort of Mutually Assured Destruction situation. Not literally, though. The sugar bowl merely containing critical evidence against Olaf would suffice – pass it on to the police, and Olaf is ruined, again. Or the threat could just be that with Dewey dead, Olaf will never find it. However, there is a sense that the sugar bowl’s being hyped up a little. Anti-Olaf evidence isn’t very useful if everyone thinks Olaf’s dead, which they do, and furthermore, if it is such evidence, Dewey should be sending it straight along to the police rather than implying that he’s just going to hang onto it and do nothing with it. Which is also what was being done with the sugar bowl by the volunteers at the Mortmain Mountains headquarters. So perhaps whatever’s in the sugar bowl would also be dangerous to V.F.D. itself if it was revealed. That would suggest, I don’t know, some sort of membership record – or a literal weapon, anyway. I think anyone who suggests that at this point the sugar bowl has been upgraded to pure McGuffin and Handler doesn’t care what’s in it may well be correct, though.
The freaks’ observations as flaneurs – notice that they were able to recognise the Baudelaires while the Baudelaires didn’t recognise them, and Jerome and Strauss are capable of recognising which manager is which. The Baudelaires are rubbish at this job.
Dewey’s false lead is pretty good; locking the laundry room securely does imply that it’s protecting the most valuable of contents. And at any rate, one supposes that it’s possible that the momentum of the crows might have carried the sugar bowl forward beneath the hotel overhang and into the laundry funnel.
“I could never be a noble person… I have a hump on my back.” “And I’m a contortionist… Someone who can bend their body into unusual shapes could never be a volunteer.” “V.F.D. would never accept an ambidextrous person… It’s my destiny to be a treacherous person.” Indeed, this is utter nonsense, but carries on from the sort of utter nonsense the “freaks” spouted in TCC, and to be fair, they do seem to have been conditioned that way. Evidently they don’t understand that society’s standards =/= V.F.D.’s standards.
Also, Dewey reveals that he is ambidextrous, which seems… slightly arbitrary? All it really contributes to is this conversation, and makes an earlier reference to ambidexterity slightly more ambiguous. What I’m saying is that I’m not sure why he’s ambidextrous, although it would be great if Frank/Ernest is right-handed while Ernest/Frank is left-handed.
“So someone really has been cataloguing everything that has happened between us?” Interesting that the rumours about Dewey extend to information about his secret catalog – but I suppose they would, if people had seen him in far-off places or reported large quantities of information being copied to the Hotel Denouement. What’s interesting is that “between us” implies that Esmé’s referring only to events that immediately concern her relationship with Olaf.
“Then you know all about the sugar bowl… and what’s inside. You know how important that thing was, and how many lives were lost in the quest to find it. You know how difficult it was to find a container that could hold it safely, securely, and attractively. You know what it means to the Baudelaires and what it means to the Snickets… And you know… that it is mine.” “Beatrice stole it from me!”
Okay. This is pure retcon here. But to the facts. Parts of Esmé’s passage are unclear as to whether they’re referring to the sugar bowl or its contents. The sugar bowl itself, as a container, belonged to Esmé, but this passage almost implies that its contents did too – but that would probably invalidate the almost mythical parts that precede it. We also can’t be sure whether the part about the thing being meaningful to both Baudelaires and Snickets is about the sugar bowl or its contents… however, I think there’s a good chance it refers merely to the container. That Beatrice stole it would’ve put a long-lasting rift between Esmé and Beatrice, who would later become a member of the Baudelaire family. There’s also the fact that Beatrice was working with Lemony, and indeed that he’s the one who really stole it. Furthermore: When Esmé’s talking about how important this thing was and how many lives were lost in the quest to find it, this could equally well apply to the sugar bowl itself, during the time it had something stored within it, because many lives have been lost in the quest to locate the sugar bowl. Talk of its importance also applies to its contents, of course, and this is the real point: What could these contents be?
If we take this passage at face value, it seems like it must be something magical, almost crucial to the existence of the world. I guess that since TPP, along with the presence of the Great Unknown, transforms aSoUE into the sort of series where symbols and thematic meaning take precedence over the plot, then the contents of the sugar bowl are probably no longer identifiable as a literal object that we can deduce from clues in the plot. Instead, we have to take the contents of the sugar bowl to be something that represents something. Don’t think of objects like “evidence against Olaf” or “an ancient McGuffin.” The contents of the sugar bowl are an idea. A concept. No more “incriminating photographs of Olaf” or “a vital tape recorder”; instead, “hope” or “love” or “pure evil.” I should have realised this sooner. Well, that’s what this reread is for. Now I just need to think what it could be, and that might still be something unguessable or impossible.
“I already purchased that ridiculous outfit for you, and that boat for you to prowl the swimming pool.” So Olaf bought the boat – which puts into question its backstory in The End, in which it seems like Olaf must have owned it for years and years, or at any rate that it probably wasn’t sitting around in a boat shop.
“I never wanted a brat like you around anyway!” Yes you did, Olaf. However, Carmelita’s brattiness translated more into being annoying and demanding of her parent figures than being unpleasant to other children, which is why she didn’t fit in. After TGG, a break with Carmelita is inevitable, and was used as a tool to break Olaf up with Esmé… in retrospect, Handler may have planned all this from TSS. Essentially, extraneous characters needed to be gotten rid of before The End, and this is how Esmé is cut away.
“Besides, I was guarding—” We should probably figure out by now that the Medusoid Mycelium is up there. Anyone who was suspicious of the diving suit figurehead before probably had their suspicions confirmed here.
Dewey’s playing a dangerous game here. I suppose he didn’t imagine, when he created his decoy, that he’d have to admit it was a decoy so soon, but the very fact of being forced to admit that it’s a decoy necessarily raises the possibility that he’s bluffing, or even that he’s executing a double-bluff, bluffing that he’s bluffing. “Bluff” now sounds to me like a word which doesn’t mean anything… well, this happens if you repeat the same word lots of times.
The questions on the door lock are partly designed to interest the reader, but they’re really for anyone well-read and well-researched. A good reader of the series will probably remember the Baudelaires’ peppermint allergy, it’s only just possible that we might guess that the poison darts are the weapon in question but we really shouldn’t know that right now at all because we’ve had no inkling that Olaf’s parents were involved in the opera incident yet, and it’s unlikely that most readers of aSoUE will have read the best-known novel by Richard Wright, but not impossible. The Vernacularly Fastened Door in TSS was a similar sort of quiz… as were those on TheNamelessNovel.com, which in retrospect were probably partly there to foreshadow TPP.
“Wicked people never have time for reading… It’s one of the reasons for their wickedness.” Pro-literature philosophy. Suggests that learning will contribute to people being less evil – which ties in to The End’s point that insulating ourselves from reality is not the way to grow as a person. There’s also the suggestion that villains aren’t using their time for suitably noble activities, but I guess that goes without saying.
“I knew you could be a noble person again, Esmé! You don’t have to parade around in an indecent bikini in the middle of the night threatening sub-sub-librarians!” This seems to suggest that Jerome still loves his wife, if he still believes in her. What a doormat. He also disapproves of her bikini, but come on, it’s made of lettuce and tape. Even if you like bikinis then that’s got to be pretty low.
The “injustice” pun from the pre-TGG clue on LemonySnicket.com is here used for TPP itself. Handler would at least have suggested the words of the clue itself, so the pun may already have occurred to him, even if he didn’t construct the questions himself – which he probably didn’t; he didn’t work on TheNamelessNovel.com, from what I’ve heard, either. I remember him commenting that he hadn’t known at first that HarperCollins were going to do the promotion that way, and he thought it was funny that a resentful former Borders employee leaked the title a few days before publication. (The context was an interview in which he mentioned that he hadn’t known HC had sent out review copies of The End that were missing the final chapter (or the final two chapters, presumably?).)
“I understand your situation, Esmé. When I was your age, I spent years as a horse thief before realizing—” Interesting. So we learn that Justice Strauss is older than Esmé, probably by quite a bit. After all, it probably takes quite a while to go from horse thief to justice of the High Court. I wonder what exactly she realised, and how – that is, it was evidently a philosophical realisation, but it seems like it must have been a dramatic moment.
It seems like… the scene where the Baudelaires try to take the harpoon gun from Olaf is very important. Very important. The silence, the length of description. The fact that Olaf is referred to as their “first guardian.” Perhaps it’s something to do with the fact that this is the first time they have attempted to disarm him – not just literally, but to actually take steps to prevent him from harming someone. They’re always thwarting his plans, of course, but here it’s not just for themselves, they’re taking action in a more resonant fashion – acting on a wider stage – trying to neutralise him as an offensive force. This also humanises Olaf somewhat, because it’s a very, very difficult scene indeed. At what point does a man admit that, yes, he’s the villain – that he’s never been acting for the greater good? Is it when three youngsters are standing right in front of you, their hands on a harpoon gun you have pointed directly at one of them? “What else can I do?” Olaf here feels somewhat forced to justify his actions. It’s unfortunate that Sunny mentions La Forza del Destino, because it doesn’t stop Olaf; he’s about to continue with his villainous act. The opera Sunny mentions is part of the reason why he’s doing what he’s doing; it’s part of why he is who he is. It allows him to say that, yes, he is taking legitimate revenge, or is an agent of justice, or is acting against a group of terrible and villainous hypocrites.
“…and in an instant, you can realise where something is hidden and decide whether you are going to retrieve it or let it stay hidden, where it might never be found and eventually be forgotten by all but a few very well-read and very distraught figures” etc. I think this is quite personally referring to Lemony, just as the references to Robert Frost Verse Fluctuation Declaration are probably relevant, just as the lighting of a match looks forward to the end of this very book. Does this pinpoint the moment that the taxi driver realised that the sugar bowl was indeed at the bottom of the pond, and had to make the choice of whether to retrieve it or to leave it hidden there forever? I wonder… if the sugar bowl’s contents are an idea, what does this choice represent? Perhaps, if you like, whether it is better to keep dangerous ideas hidden, or bring them into the world to act on us, and have us act on them. Retrieving the sugar bowl would therefore be consistent with The End, if I’m right.
“…and in this instant they heard the red trigger click!, and in this instant the penultimate harpoon was fired with a swoosh! and sailed through the enormous, domed room and struck someone a fatal blow, a phrase which here means “killed one of the people in the room.”” A couple of things. Firstly, the fact that Handler points out that it’s the penultimate harpoon I think… I think makes it clear, or if you prefer right, that the final harpoon is only fired in the final book, if the penultimate one is fired in the penultimate book. And secondly, there’s a sense of something being cut short here, a definite striking-off, in the blunt and absolute way that this passage ends. There’s lots of emphasis on the travel of the harpoon, but when it reaches its destination then that’s it. It kills someone. There’s nothing more to say. I wonder if this can be related to the structure of the series.
“…Mr. Poe demanded, for it was not his destiny to be slain by a harpoon, at least not on this particular evening.” Taken by some as foreshadowing that Mr. Poe would be slain by a harpoon eventually, possibly in the evening. I thought it was just an example. I think ultimately that I was right, as the speculation was usually very much in the direction of that one remaining harpoon.
Dewey gasps “Kit” and reaches towards the sky. I don’t like to be prosaic at this sad point, but I think this was taken by some people as evidence that Kit was at this point, or had been aiming to be, in the sky, in the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. Well, I guess this was her aim, but she never got there. However, I think this point, where it’s revealed that Kit is what’s most important to Dewey, that it must be clear that Dewey is the father of Kit’s baby. Others raised questions in The End, but I think we can shut those down pretty effectively when we get there. But anyway. I think it’s slightly sad that Dewey’s final act is in some way mistaken.
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Post by cwm on Aug 16, 2009 8:53:25 GMT -5
Good heavens, another parallel with The Prisoner (replace 'sugar bowl's contents' with 'identity of Number One').
Whatever's in the sugar bowl is something that Olaf needs to examine, whether or not he intends to destroy it afterwards, and it might perish if subjected to the Medusoid Mycelium? Although that would involve there being more to the Mycelium than we know.
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Post by Hermes on Aug 16, 2009 15:23:59 GMT -5
I'm arriving a bit late at the feast. There's so much to say about this book - I was amazed how many notes I took as I went through it - and I'm not sure when I'll have time to write it. There's a lot in what you have already said that I'd like to reply to, as well, but I think I'll wait till I reach the specific bits of the book that it relates to.
I think my general verdict on the book is 'Fascinating as a game: frustrating as a story'. There's an amazing amount of allusion here - the Dewey system, of course; lots of themes from earlier in the series being revisited; and it's interesting to trace the clues in earlier parts of the book that are fufilled later; Dewey himself; then his relationship with Kit: the plot with the sugar bowl; the Medusoid Mycelium. (Dewey/Kit, by the way, is so subtle that I think a lot of casual readers just never noticed it, so that when Olaf/Kit was revealed in the last book, they assumed that O must be the father of K's child.) The underwater library is a brilliant idea, as well. And as Dante has shown, there are real depths of symbolism here. But when you try to work out the details of what's happening, it fails to make sense. The whole 'Are you who I think you are?' - 'Three spies but none saw the whole truth' thing could have been avoided if people had taken five minutes to talk to their brothers or their (romantic and professional) partners about what was going on. The whole plot - what's known about the hotel, who knows it, how long the events have been planned - it very hard to fit in with what we have heard earlier. The plan with the trial never made much sense, but bringing it forward makes even less. And so on.
I find this book much more frustrating than The End - because TE is quite open about the fact that not every question can be answered, but TPP seems to be answering questions, and yet the answers often don't quite work. This is, after all, meant to be the denouement - this is where threads are unravelled - but while we do, perhaps, spot some connections we haven't spotted before, one cannot say that we get clearer about anything (except, possibly, to an extent, 'who is JS?).
I was interested by cwm's list of characters who do not reappear - I think there is a possible explanation for this. With almost everyone who was in the hotel, it's left deliberately obscure whether they survived. But some people must have survived, knowably, in order to be Lemony's informants. I'm thinking particularly of Milt here - but I think this may also explain why we hear no more of Phil.
One other thing - the roundel on the British title page - I thought for quite a time that there was something odd about this - it doesn't look like the Hotel Denouement, which surely had a flat roof. But then I realised that this appears on the front cover of every book in the American edition - it isn't the HD: it's just a generic burning building, or perhaps the Baudelaire mansion. Which makes its use on the title page of TPP very odd.
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Post by Dante on Aug 16, 2009 16:16:54 GMT -5
Good to have you back with us. I've been trying not to go too fast so you wouldn't have thirteen walls of text to catch up with. I find this book much more frustrating than The End - because TE is quite open about the fact that not every question can be answered, but TPP seems to be answering questions, and yet the answers often don't quite work. This is, after all, meant to be the denouement - this is where threads are unravelled - but while we do, perhaps, spot some connections we haven't spotted before, one cannot say that we get clearer about anything (except, possibly, to an extent, 'who is JS?). I think that TPP has to make an effort. Since it's the denouement, it has to have some dramatic revelation of V.F.D.'s plan, explain recent subplots, etc. And on the surface of it, it does; as you say, it seems to be answering questions. It's only when you pry beneath the surface that I suppose you discover that Handler was doing something different. Not that he was trying to be subversive at all about the answers he gave, but more that it was perhaps not his primary focus. He did the best he could, and the thing is that TPP is a really great book and it's very interesting. Parts of it I think are among the best in the series. But answering all the questions he'd come up with wasn't really, I've now come to believe, what he was really interested in doing. On which note, I'm looking forward to seeing your thoughts on my interpretation of TPP's approach to the schism and the sugar bowl (unless of course those thoughts are "what a load of cobblers!" or some similarly abrasive dismissal). Couldn't one nonetheless select a random amount of people from any set per-book group to have survived on some kind of Schrodinger measure and say that in general there will be sufficient information from the few surviving main characters and nameless passers-by that Lemony will be able to compile his biographies of the Baudelaires? Thus there's really no reason for Milt and Lou not to turn up, because we can always say that one of them survived and it doesn't matter which, or that security camera tape from the Last Chance General Store survived, or something like that. I myself wonder if there's any specific reason why neither of them turned up, nor were even hinted at being there - even Bruce got his name called out twice. Maybe Handler just overlooked them, or considered Hal and a Volunteer Fighting Disease to be enough of a character selection from THH (or both). I think it more likely that, given the one for The End is from TBB, and that the covers for TPP and The End are the same as their HarperCollins counterparts, that Egmont were just recycling here. It was the most relevant thing they could get. Edit: And what did you think of TheNamelessNovel.com, at that? |
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Post by Hermes on Aug 16, 2009 17:31:23 GMT -5
Good to have you back with us. I've been trying not to go too fast so you wouldn't have thirteen walls of text to catch up with. Oh - that's really nice of you! I think I fundamentally agree. Regarding the sugar bowl your view fits in with what I've been saying for some time - that we're not meant to know what is in it - but gives it greater depth. While I think it makes sense just as an unsolved mystery, showing that there are things in the world we cannot know, that doesn't stop it having a specific meaning of its own, just as the other major unsolved mystery, the Great Unknown, seems to be symbolic of death. As to your specific suggestions - love is a bit too Harry Potterish, I think; I like the idea of hope - a kind of reminiscence of Pandora's box? And the schism - I have some thoughts, which I'll come to, about the redating of the schism and the apparent change in its nature, but what you say helps to motivate the change more clearly. Well, that's why I wrote 'knowably'. Lemony doesn't seem to know what happened to the people who were caught in the fire - while he must know what happened to some people if he interviewed them later. (Bear in mind I think he is writing long after the events.) But I think you are probably right in thinking that his main motive is that there should be characters from every book - he doesn't need to bring back every character. Oh gosh, that's a big question. A bit like the book, I suppose - it seems to be answering mysteries, but ultimately it doesn't tell us anything of importance. But perhaps it does if it's read for atmosphere rather than in a directly puzzle-solving spirit - which again makes it akin to the book. |
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Post by Dante on Aug 17, 2009 4:56:08 GMT -5
~Chapter Ten~
A mysterious and very noir-ish chapter illustration here. If you compare it to the otherwise similar figure in the frontispiece of the book, the stylistic difference is huge. You can also see it in the way the eyes are hidden; in the frontispiece it’s more like the guy’s hat is covering his eyes, whereas here it’s just the shade from the hat. It helps to cast this person’s motives into doubt, because hiding the eyes is a fairly classic way of hiding a big way of interpreting a person’s emotions. But anyway. The overall effect is that this guy looks a lot like a 30s or 50s private eye, which is almost certainly the intention, and makes a lot of sense if this character is meant to be Lemony Snicket, who plays that sort of role and is often photographed in similar garb.
I think the story is very self-conscious of how ridiculous it is that people would be woken up by, and would recognise, the sounds of a harpoon gun and of someone falling into the pond, but it’s just rolling with it.
“Come back to bed, Bruce” – wha? If this is the same Bruce from TRR or TSS, evidently his circumstances have changed dramatically, as he was last seen being scooped up in a bet with a bunch of children and eagles! Maybe he joined the villains. Or maybe he’s imprisoned in a hotel room but for some reason is shrugging it off. He seems to have become a bit more astute than he was in TSS if he’s managed to deduce that someone was shot with a harpoon gun and fell into the pond, but given that this is probably based on the crazy speculations of people who really shouldn’t be able to hear that well, perhaps it’s just coincidence and he’s going along with what everyone else is doing.
Also, there’s not that much more to say about the many and varied figures crying out things in the night. There aren’t any especially insightful comments about things that have occurred, and we can’t identify the vast majority of the characters.
“In a moment, they’ll all believe we’re murderers.” “Maybe we are…” No no no, shut up Violet. You never touched Dewey, you didn’t pull the trigger, you did everything you could to stop him from being shot at right up to endangering your own lives, and frankly this is unusually hamfisted for Handler. So I’m not touching this any more because it’s stupid. Unless anyone can come up with an explanation for why it’s not or is deliberately stupid.
The description of the taxi driver matches that of the taxi driver in TWW – tall and skinny, smoking a skinny cigarette. Since he’s therefore probably the same character – the TWW taxi driver was quite flippant, but of course Handler couldn’t know then that he’d reuse the character – then this explains why the children think his voice is familiar. Oh and by the way, he appears for just a second in Chapter Eight – he’s just a shadow in the cab. I guess you could call that “foreshadowing”! Oh! Oh!
And by the way, the taxi driver sequence here is one of my favourite parts of the entire series. There’s something so… it’s like the Baudelaires are suddenly in the eye of the storm. All outside influences disappear. The cries of suspicious people in the Hotel Denouement, V.F.D., even their own grief, it all just vanishes. It’s like they’ve suddenly been plunged into a deep, dark lake and met a presence there. And he seems to disappear the moment Mr. Poe shows up. The taxi driver is almost like a sort of ghost, or supernatural projection.
The great American novelist the taxi driver quotes is Willa Cather, according to my notes.
“We don’t know.” The Baudelaires don’t even know themselves, so they can’t possibly tell the taxi driver if they are who he thinks they are. Incidentally, I assume most people in the book, including the taxi driver, are so cryptic because none of them are sure if the person they’re talking to is who they think it is.
Mr. Poe mentions the occurrence of another “unfortunate event,” and I’m trying to think whether or not this is the first time this phrase has actually been used in the series. It’d show Handler pulling out all the stops, I think. An “unfortunate cycle,” at least, was mentioned in TGG…
I’m just going to quote the whole sequence as the taxi driver leaves, and then take it apart line by line.
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By then the man was already back inside the taxi and was driving slowly away from the Hotel Denouement, and just as the children had no way of knowing if he was a good person or not, they had no way of knowing if they were sad or relieved to see him go, and even after months of research, and many sleepless nights, and many dreary afternoons spent in front of an enormous pond, throwing stones in the hopes that someone would notice the ripples I was making, I have no way of knowing if the Baudelaires should have been sad or relieved to see him go either. I do know who the man was, and I do know where he went afterward, and I do know the name of the woman who was hiding in the trunk, and the type of musical instrument that was laid carefully in the back seat, and the ingredients of the sandwich tucked into the glove compartment, and even the small item that sat on the passenger seat, still damp from its hiding place, but I cannot tell you if the Baudelaires would have been happier in this man’s company, or if it was better that he drove away from the three siblings, looking back at them through the rearview mirror and clutching a monogrammed napkin in his trembling hand. I do know that if they had gotten into his taxi, their troubles at the Hotel Denouement would not have been their penultimate peril, and they would have had quite a few more woeful events in their lives that would likely take thirteen more books to describe, but I have no way of knowing if it would have been better for the orphans, any more than I know if it would have been better for me had I decided to continue my life’s work rather than researching the Baudelaires’ story, or if it would have been better for my sister had she decided to join the children at the Hotel Denouement instead of waterskiing toward Captain Widdershins, and, later, waterskiing away from him, or if it would have been better for you to step into that taxicab you saw not so long ago and embark on your own series of events, rather than continuing with the life you have for yourself.
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1. The man drives “slowly” away, which suggests to me that he wasn’t in a hurry, and he’s probably being slow probably because it represents one of the Baudelaires’ last chances slipping out of their fingers. It’s most painful if it’s slow.
2. I suggest that Snicket’s detailed knowledge about the taxi driver, in a book and plot arc in which he has so frequently admitting to not having all the answers or full details, is satisfied by the explanation that the taxi driver is Snicket himself. Furthermore, I suggest that his smoking of a cigarette is not a great obstacle in the way of this theory, since this is there for the continuity link to TWW, and identifying that figure as also having potentially been Snicket gives a greater idea of how Lemony can have been so close to the Baudelaires’ story this whole time, which is narratively a very powerful suggestion.
3. The name of the woman hiding in the trunk: We can’t know this. However, I suggest that it was the swimming woman from TGG and the diving suit woman from the start of Chapter Seven, because [see #6].
4. The type of musical instrument: We know Lemony and Handler play the accordion – this very book has reminded us of it – and this would be exactly the type of instrument that would require being laid carefully on a full back seat.
5. The ingredients of the sandwich tucked into the glove compartment – I suggest that this is the coded sandwich mentioned by Lemony in TSS, for which he is still lacking a pickle left behind in the now-missing refrigerator from the headquarters.
6. The small item that sat on the passenger seat, still damp from its hiding place – has to be the sugar bowl, which as we later learn was in the pond. And who better to retrieve it than a woman who we know has been hanging around in a diving suit? Who was swimming through a former location that the sugar bowl had been placed in? Which suggests, in retrospect, that the swimming woman in TGG had also visited Gorgonian Grotto with the aim of securing the sugar bowl.
7. Monogrammed napkin: Suggests satisfying initials. Anyone can have a monogrammed napkin, of course, but we’ve seen in this volume that members of both the Baudelaire and Snicket families have them, so it is not too surprising if another Snicket has one.
8. That if the Baudelaires had gone with him the Baudelaires would have had many more perils – because Lemony’s life is a very dangerous one, and this we know very well. But he’s perhaps the only person who would have been straight with them.
9. We discover that researching the Baudelaires’ story is not Lemony’s life’s work, or rather, not his original life’s work – that he had devoted his life first to something else. What could it have been? Novel writing? Some vital rhetorical exercise? Training marmosets?
10. Kit waterskiing towards and then away from Widdershins – waterskiing is irrelevant, going towards him we know about… but why going away? The next we hear of her, she had indeed teamed up with him aboard the Queequeg. Maybe she went to make contact with Fernald and Fiona while Widdershins retrieved his own submarine?
Sir has the initials L.S. stencilled on the pocket of his pyjamas – “presumably” for Lucky Smells. This sort of thing has led more than one person to think that he might be Lemony Snicket. I think that’s absurd, but on the other hand, I think Handler’s definitely teasing there.
I don’t have much to say, again, about what the various guests are saying in the lobby. The only thing worth mentioning is that Mrs. Bass chooses to incriminate the Baudelaires, whereas in TAA she, like Mr. Remora, wasn’t really so bad. I suggest that, by saying “I say they’re criminals… and criminals ought to be punished” that she is seeking to distract attention from herself. After all, surely a criminal wouldn’t declare that criminals ought to be punished.
The man in salmon-patterned pyjamas and the woman in a clown-emblazoned nightgown presumably work for the Café Salmonella and the Anxious Clown, respectively. The latter seems likely to be a volunteer, since she knows about the trial – yeesh, who doesn’t? – but the former seems more judgemental, which figures, since the café has been identified as one of V.F.D.’s enemies (of sorts).
“Once the other noble judges have arrived” – according to TGG, the sinister duo were already at the hotel, cooking up a scheme of their own. I wonder if Handler had thought of the trial by then, or if the sinister duo’s absence was necessitated by the fact that their presence would be too powerful to be constant throughout TPP.
“I trust my fellow judges… I’ve known them for years, and they’ve always been concerned whenever I’ve reported on your case.” Some people suspected that the sinister duo were just impersonating members of the High Court, but it sounds to me very much like they’ve always held those positions – and let’s face it, it’s a great job for a villain to have.
I felt it was important, however, to notice that Room 165, where Olaf is imprisoned, is for “fallacies and sources of error.”
“Fair enough… I’m happy to wait for the verdict of the High Court.” Even knowing that his associates are on the High Court, Olaf seems remarkably nonchalant here. Showing up in the middle of the crowd was particularly ambitious. However, everything at this moment is working out exactly as he would wish, if not better.
Whichever manager it is the Baudelaires apologise to, he is both surprised and accepting. This suggests that he wasn’t expecting the apology but appreciates it nonetheless. I think this’d work for either Frank or Ernest… if Ernest is a real manager, which I guess I must now accept, then the Denouement siblings must have some kind of deal. He never revealed the existence of Dewey or of the catalog. As such, I think it must be true that Ernest did care about his brother, even if he didn’t care for what his brother did with his life. It’s like Fernald and Fiona. They disagree, but they’re family.
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Post by cwm on Aug 17, 2009 7:08:22 GMT -5
"Series of unfortunate events" is used at the end of TEE, I believe.
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Post by Dante on Aug 17, 2009 8:31:48 GMT -5
You could be right. I don't know if I could've waited twelve books to title drop like that. Well, I guess the real title drop is in The End.
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), so I apologize for the incorrect dates. But add those up and its 12-13 days. So you're right - maybe this is Jerome's rough draft?
