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Post by Hermes on Aug 17, 2009 13:04:33 GMT -5
Chapter 1.
'Is he [Martin Luther King] a member of VFD?' 'You might say that.' This would seem to confirm the 'honorary member'
theory.
'to extinguish fires, both literally and figuratively' - this makes it clear how VFD can be a Volunteer Fire Department, and yet do other things not directly connected with fire.
The opera - I should have mentioned this among the themes which gradually develop over the book, revealing their secrets near the end. From what is said here, I think it's clear that it happened in the last twelve years or so - when V and K were alive, and old enough to communicate.
The taxi behind them in fact has noble people in it, as will later emerge.
'as I hurried out of the opera house before a certain woman could spot me' - one naturally thinks Esme, but it could also be Beatrice.
Chapter 2.
'A previously unknown sibling who was already watching them at that very moment'. Very naturally taken to mean a previously unknown sibling of the Baudelaires, and raises the suspicion that this might be Beatrice. I suspect a deliberate red herring. (By the way, was there not a set of clues which appeared somewhere which included 'That is indeed Beatrice'?) But in retrospect, it probably refers to Dewey, a previously unknown sibling of Frank and Ernest (even though F and E haven't been mentioned yet). Or it might refer to Lemony, a previously unknown sibling of Jacques and Kit (though 'unknown' is a bit of stretch; the Baudelaires haven't seen him or heard his name, but he's been referred to in their presence several times). Or, boringly, it might just mean that people who spend a lot of time looking in mirrors may discover secrets such as a previously unknown sibling.
Note that the hotel is built of bricks, although we will later find that its floors - and perhaps other internal fittings - are of green wood.
Ah, the schism. I think the redating of the schism is deliberate, not just a slip - there has been so much, up to now, that makes most sense it it happened 15-20 years ago, when the central figures, L, B, O and so on, were already adults. So why the change? I think because the vision which K conjures up here, of VFD as something open, and a world full of safe places where people of good will could gather, does not fit what we know, from TUA and hints elsewhere, of the VFD of Lemony's youth, which was already something secret.
Can we reconstruct Kit's movements?
TEE (and periods before and after this while the Baudelaires are with Mr Poe) - teaches at Prufrock Prep.
Round about the time of TVV - is sacked from Prufrock Prep. (The letter which led to her sacking was presumably sent out along with the other letters which caused the cutting of telephone wires, etc.)
After THH - visits site of Heimlich Hospital, recruits Hal.
Around time of TCC - hears of Jacques' death, goes to bed.
During TGG - gets up, meets Quigley.
This probably represents more thought than Handler put into it, but I think it works - though there's one problem it raises.
Charles: why would he be sending K maps, poems and blueprints? It's notable that later, while Dewey makes it clear that Hal, Jerome and Strauss are new recruits to VFD, he is not so explicit about Charles. Could he be an old member, long inactive? His later coversation with Sir suggests not, but perhaps he is trying to preserve secrecy. But on the other hand, it's possible he has just - like Jerome and Strauss - come into contact with VFD through his recent search.
JS: it is odd that Kit does not know who s/he is. Firstly because two of him/her are in touch with Dewey (but she seems to have been spending so much time rushing around with Quigley she hasn't had a chance to speak to Dewey recently); and secondly because she was with Q when he sent a telegram to JS, which surely implies knowing who it was - and they cannot have thought it was Jacques. I'm guessing the JS who checked in last night is in fact Jerome, since we know Strauss arrived this morning.
The sugar bowl is on its way to the hotel. This is frustrating -at the end of the last book we were still in a state of puzzlement about what happened to the SB; now it seems to be unproblematic. The same applies to Widdershins; we did not know where he had gone; now K is planning to meet up with him, as if there is no mystery about his whereabouts. If they had gone and never been heard of again, that would just be an aspect of the general mysteriousness of life; what is odd is when it seems that the puzzle has been solved, but we aren't told the solution.
'his treacherous identical brother'. Ha! Did anyone spot that one (i.e. that it doesn't say 'twin')?
So we get the question of how, in fact, Ernest fits in. The major problem is this; if one of the mnanagers is a villain, how can anyone even think that the hotel is the last safe place? And if there is a a villain there - apparently in touch with the other bad guys - how is it that it was only in TSS that they found out about its significance? (At least, Olaf did; the judges may perhaps have known - they certainly would have done if the plan for the trial was already in progress - but weren't letting on.) The word 'treacherous' may be a clue; perhaps he is not a villain by calling, but has only recently gone over to the bad side.
'He's a wonderful gentleman'. Another clue. Of course, the question 'who is the father of Kit's child?' is a rather obvious one, so when she starts talking about wonderful gentlemen one may wonder.
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Post by Dante on Aug 17, 2009 14:37:27 GMT -5
The opera - I should have mentioned this among the themes which gradually develop over the book, revealing their secrets near the end. From what is said here, I think it's clear that it happened in the last twelve years or so - when V and K were alive, and old enough to communicate. Oh darn, this reminds me of something I meant to note. I'll probably come to it in Chapter Twelve. But basically - yes, there is some dispute as to whether the opera incident happened during the children's lives or not; I find it implausible that it's an anecdote related to the children somehow. "One day the car wouldn't start so we had to take a taxi" would be very, very unremarkable, and I'd question the quality of the writing there if this lame anecdote was suddenly remembered as vitally important. I also have comments to make regarding the meaning of "orphan," but that can wait. I think that since the mirror text is still referring to the hypothetical proverbial person, the unknown sibling doesn't have to refer to anyone, but we also expect it to have some relevance to the story we're reading. I think, in that loose sense, Dewey would work. As for "That is indeed Beatrice," that took me back. I traced it to an old AuthorTracker/BookBlast sent out shortly after the release of TPP: www.lemonysnicket.com/event/bookblast2.htmlI imagine that Snicket was not involved with writing that particular promotional piece. Most of it is not very useful, although I find #7 to be quietly disturbing. #10, then, is almost certainly just a throwaway piece of mysteriousness, given who Beatrice ends up being. (Incidentally, remove the "2" from the URL to find a piece of pre-TPP promotion that left us all agog, but in retrospect was once again playing with us - "perilous title," indeed!) I can only think that perhaps Kit hasn't been able to contact Dewey as freely as she'd like recently, while Frank hasn't a clear picture of the situation. Or maybe the original message was from Ernest, trying to make Kit suspicious of Jerome? It seems almost like - or perhaps genuinely is, since I believe TPP represents a drastic shift in the nature of the plot - the status quo at the end of TGG was simply ignored. Forget the fact that the sugar bowl's gone missing yet again and we have no idea where it's been - here it comes and we need to concentrate on that right now. Forget the reason why Widdershins and Phil were lured away - what matters now is moving the pieces into place for The End. Same would go for Fernald and Fiona, probably. I'm not sure I did, but it's quite clever, yes. Incidentally, I just checked, and for that matter, nobody in TPP ever says "twin" except for Olaf (and, in reply, Dewey), and of course that happens after we know that the Denouements are triplets. I think the sudden lack of safety and secrecy of the Hotel Denouement represents another of those quiet status-quakes that I alluded to earlier. What's important, or rather what's interesting, isn't the veil of secrecy just barely lifted to all involved a couple of books ago - to make things climactic and crucial... well, you appreciate the point. It's just that my view on such things seems to be mellowing to the point of "eh, just ignore it." |
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Post by Hermes on Aug 17, 2009 16:07:03 GMT -5
As for "That is indeed Beatrice," that took me back. I traced it to an old AuthorTracker/BookBlast sent out shortly after the release of TPP: www.lemonysnicket.com/event/bookblast2.htmlI imagine that Snicket was not involved with writing that particular promotional piece. Most of it is not very useful, although I find #7 to be quietly disturbing. #10, then, is almost certainly just a throwaway piece of mysteriousness, given who Beatrice ends up being. It could be taken as referring to the unknown sibling, or to the woman who leaves in the taxi with the sugar bowl. I guess that, in retrospect, it refers to Kit's unborn child - something that no one could guess. But of course there are pesistent references to the hotel as somewhere safe. Chapter 3. I don't think I have anything to add to the debate on which manager is which. The real question at this point, though, is 'Why so much obfuscation?' This goes both ways - why are the managers unsure who the Baudelaires are, and why aren't the Baudelaires told more about what's going on? Frank should know who they are, since he hired them; Ernest may not actually know who they are, but should at least know what side they are on, as Frank hired them. I wonder if the theory that the Baudelaires are being tested is relevant here. Clearly as a general theory it doesn't work; Olaf is genuinely villainous, and Sir, Nero etc. genuinely uncaring. But just here, one wonders if this is something of a game; they are beiong set a detective task, not because anyone really needs to know the solution, but to test their suitablity for VFD. A different but perhaps overlapping possibility is that what has gone wrong is a fundamental lack of trust - I believe that lack of trust is one of the themes of The Confidence Man, which was an inspiration for this book. After the schism, people, even on the good side, can't totally trust each other (witness the conflict between Gregor, Kit, Fernald et al.), so perhaps people aren't wholly sure the Baudelaires are on the right side - they haven't really had any direct contact with active VFD members, except the somewhat unreliable Widdershins, so perhaps people feel a need to test them for that reason. The bellgirl who brings the papers seems to be new, as she doesn't know where to put them. I did wonder if she might be one of the orphans recruited by Kit in TUA. But later bellboys and girls are shown taking a very negative attitude to the Baudelaires, so pehaps the theory that they are some of Olaf's recruits is more likely. (But though O in TGG says that only 'some' of the new recruits are with him, in fact there seem to be more children rowing the submarine than there were in the mountains, so I am not at all sure of this.) The appearance of a shuffleboard court on the religious floor along with a church, a synagogue etc. continues the series of religious anomalies that began with Nathaniel Hawthorne in TRR. The banker who is on the phone is likely to be Mr Poe - and, as Dante says, probably calling about Mrs Bass, as it later becomes clear he doesn't know the Baudelaires are in the hotel. Not a chapter. This echoes TUA, where the editor says we may read the chapters inb any order, and Lemony instead says we should not read them at all. As for the picture, I would think it was added because it was confusing - it was used in TNN in order to give as little real information about the book as possible, and it draws attention to the now growing theme that not everythign which happens is relevant to the Baudelaires'story. |
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Post by Dante on Aug 17, 2009 16:29:27 GMT -5
But of course there are pesistent references to the hotel as somewhere safe. Hmm. I only recall a distinctly equivocal statement from one of the suspicious managers. I think that your point about lack of trust is a probable one. The Baudelaires are extremely suspicious children, whether you're in or out of the loop. Certain people like Kit or Widdershins believe in them without reservation, but this is apparently largely due to appeal to friendship with their parents. People less familiar with the Baudelaires, or more so with the Baudelaire parents' bad side, might be inclined to take a more cautious viewpoint. There's also the fact that, if there really are villainous "recruits" disguised as bellboys and bellgirls in the hotel, the Baudelaires might just be more of them. The children rowing the submarine included children who were not present in the mountains; this is stated. The Baudelaires recognised some from TAA but had never encountered others, concluding that Olaf or his associates had kidnapped them on another occasion. At any rate, if there are more than there were in the mountains, that there should be yet more at the Hotel Denouement is unproblematic, because we have no idea of the total figure. Personally, I really like the idea for what are essentially fanfiction reasons; one can construct cute little parallel scenarios in one's head involving bellboys and bellgirls going about on their confusing errands for the villains and being treated like old friends by volunteers who think they're the Baudelaires. I have a persistent desire to write a baffled conversation between the disguised Mrs. Bass and a (perhaps equally terribly disguised) Mr. Poe. |
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Post by Hermes on Aug 18, 2009 11:03:13 GMT -5
But of course there are pesistent references to the hotel as somewhere safe. Hmm. I only recall a distinctly equivocal statement from one of the suspicious managers. Dewey says that volunteers and villains alike know that the last safe place is the Hotel Denouement; and Sunny says 'The last safe place is safe no more'. None of this proves the hotel is safe, of course, but it means it's widely thought of as such. Chapter 4. While Esme would never have children of her own, this seems to be because they aren't in, so doesn't contradict the thought that she has a genuinely maternal feeling towards Carmelita. Of course, this doesn't mean that she'd accept any child; she clearly didn't accept the Baudelaires. The c0cktail party seems to be part of a quite different plan from that which O had before, which, if I remember rightly, was just to burn down the hotel and dance on the ruins. One can, if one wishes, imagine reasons it was changed - O getting the Medusoid Mycelium, or the judges being contacted by Strauss about the trial plan - but one might think that invitations to the c0cktail party would have to have gone out earlier than this. Probably it's just a side effect of the author's own change of plan. I think it likely that JS in this chapter is Jerome Squalor - it fits the way the mystery develops ('Is JS a man lurking around the basement, or a woman watching the skies?' - and it turns out to be both); and it's reasonable to think E would be concerned about her estranged husband being there. (I don't think we need to suppose she doesn't know his name; she just doesn't want Geraldine to know it, for some reason.) What G knows about JS remains a puzzle. 'the occasion may require you to shout "Please turn around! I think they've driven through those hedges!" This sounds rather as if Lemony was the passenger in the taxi behind them, but we later learn that that was Justice Strauss; it's quite plausible that he was,in fact, the driver, but I don't think we can be sure of that. Presumably more than one taxi driver (apart from Kit) came to the hotel that day. What does Frank mean when he says 'Not many people have the courage to help with a scheme like this'? It is, as we later learn, a scheme that he disapproves of. (Admittedly, the scheme plays into the good guys' hands in the end; but the sense I get is that only Dewey knew that.) The repeated paragraph at the end of these three chapters is very deceptive, as it says the clock is located in the centre of the ceiling. Chapter 5I think, strictly speaking, an accordion is a kind of concertina rather than the other way round. 'an argument that began many years ago, when your were so young that it was not safe to feed you the softest of gnocchi.' This seems definitely to date the schism to Lemony's infancy. It seems clear that Sir's JS is a villain - probably Olaf, as he's hosting the party, though it could be Esme; Sir says 'this fellow', but he may be jumping to conclusions. It's quite likely he's impersonating Jacques, as he seems to be giving himself out as a representative of VFD. Charles's JS, on the other hand, seems to be a good person; it could be either Jerome or Strauss, but it would be more symmetrical if it were someone else. On the other hand, when Jerome and Strauss are revealed, I get the distinct impression we are meant to think that the mystery of JS has been solved. I would like to think it's the captain of the Prospero, but there's no positive evidence for that. The horseradish factory was LS Lumbermill's last big order. (I don't think that means they've sold nothing since then; presumably they get by on small orders.) The factory was built before the burning of Anwhistle Aquatics; we don't know when that was, but quite a while ago. (I can't remember if we also know that it was built before Bertrand and Beatrice were on the island.) The hotel must have been built before the factory. The hotel is only partly of green wood, so perhaps marks the end of the regular practice of using it. In chapter 4 it was clear that the plan using the harpoon gun was a villainous one; here it's much less clear whether the birdpaper plan is a good or a bad thing. For one thing, it's uncertain just what the birdpaper does; at one point we're told that when the crows hit the birdpaper they will drop trhe sugar bowl, but at another that they will drop it as soon as they are shot, and their hitting the birdpaper just acts as a signal. For another, when they do drop the SB, does that benefit the volunteers or the villains? Either can, in principle, pick it up, though that depends on just where it goes. |
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Post by Dante on Aug 18, 2009 13:16:49 GMT -5
Dewey says that volunteers and villains alike know that the last safe place is the Hotel Denouement; and Sunny says 'The last safe place is safe no more'. None of this proves the hotel is safe, of course, but it means it's widely thought of as such. I should think that its status would remain that of the last safe place - that is, the last officially-designated sanctuary of V.F.D. - but by the point at which any villain can stroll in and one of the managers is a traitor, it has ceased to be literally safe. I'd agree on this one. Olaf mentioned a plan of the sinister duo's at the Hotel Denouement in TGG, which indicates that his arson was probably ultimately due to be a collaborative effort, and permits the possibility of development in-between the two volumes. Hm, and of course it's just occurred to me that the sinister duo would have leaked the fact that a trial was going to occur, which explains certain invitations; I also think, time-wise, that Olaf and the sinister duo have probably known for some time that a trial was planned for the meeting; at least as long as Justice Strauss has known. It's hard to say what information Esmé might have desired from Geraldine about Jerome - perhaps the sort of people he's been mixing with recently? Geraldine had, some time before, been able to confirm where Jerome regularly ate, and such details. If you're referring to Geraldine's interrupted sentence, I think it was likely to just end "--your husband," if the figure in question was Jerome. The query would surprise Geraldine. Nonetheless, Lemony as the taxi-driver would be able to quote this as anecdotal support for his examples. Maybe Frank thought Violet actually intended to dispose of the harpoon gun instead - or it was a veiled warning, that engaging in a "scheme like this" was not noble activity. There's a point, but one can just say that the passage in question is looking at the clock from the perspective of what was occurring at that particular time. I think the use of present tense would come more naturally there than past. I think that The End doesn't give us enough evidence to say when Anwhistle Aquatics was burnt down in relation to when Bertrand and Beatrice were on the island, but Fiona was alive at the time, and depending on what exactly you think Fiona's age is, and what age at which she'd be able to remember overhearing her brother and stepfather arguing, you might be able to date it back. It seems like the torching would probably have been after the Baudelaire parents returned - well, I guess that goes without saying, since they wouldn't have continued building a passageway to somewhere which no longer existed. ~Chapter Eleven~ Another Helquist crowd scene illustration. As usual, I doubt there’s anyone important here. Also, we are told here at the start of Chapter Eleven that the Hotel Denouement will be burnt down by the end of the book. I guess the end is so near now that maybe there wasn’t much point hiding it, but I know at least one person was disappointed that it was given away like that. Because it’s expected that the Hotel Denouement will be burnt down, it’s more dramatic if you tease the possibility that it will not, rather than outright admitting it. But, it’s a minor point. What’s more interesting is the confirmed means of accessing the underwater catalog: A “hidden passageway.” …Okay, I guess that was kinda obvious, but it gives us more of an idea of how to picture it. Lemony’s anecdote: A bathyscaphe is a kind of mini-submarine, so perhaps this tale is an artefact of the Snicket Snickersnee? Also, this is not the first time in the series the letters K and R have been confused; in TCC, the Baudelaires couldn’t tell whether a signature was a K or an R, and I think at one point Colette twisted her body into a shape that apparently resembled either a K or an R. Also, and I think we discussed this, because Lemony evidently knows the location of the catalog and can access it, this suggests that the account of an interpretation of the law that went horribly wrong and which is also contained in the remaining chapters of the book may literally amount to extracts from TPP (although that’s quite recursive). “Scalia” meaning “It doesn’t seem like the literal interpretation makes any sense” is a reference to one of the judges of America’s Supreme Court, Antonin Scalia, who favours strict constructionism in his interpretation of the Constitution. It seems like Handler disagrees with his perspective, but this isn’t the first overtly political comment in the books; “busheney” was probably easier to notice. Klaus’s abortive attempt to speak to the manager in code suggests to me a warning against interpreting everything in the book as a code of some kind. “Klaus was mistaken for someone named Jerry by a man who gave him an enormous hug before learning of his mistake.” In TEE, there’s a man who calls Jerome “Jerry”; perhaps this is the same person? That would probably make them one of the most minor characters to return. I’d appreciate it. “It was already Wednesday afternoon, which meant that Thursday, and the arrival of their noble friends and associates, was quite close indeed.” Doesn’t matter. The trial’s been brought forward, so they’d be too late in any case. And that’s assuming this refers specifically to those aboard the SSHAMH, Widdershins, etc. If it just refers to members of V.F.D. in general, most of them would have turned up early. The authorities are outside, but we still never see them. The enforcers of justice are nowhere to be seen in aSoUE, partly because true justice is always so distant. It strikes me that the trial should have more accused parties than just the Baudelaires and Count Olaf. However, I guess that would require putting everyone on trial. Presumably all the evidence submitted and the accounts of the accused will make it clear who else to look for. Note that Olaf gives his full name as “Count Olaf,” so we still don’t know his surname. “Count Olaf” is as much of a name as he has or needs, I suppose. Knowing his surname wouldn’t shed any light on anything. “Impresario” probably isn’t far off from referring to Olaf’s actual job, in the time when he’s not being a villain. “I’m unspeakably innocent.” Which is to say – nobody can speak of his innocence. As a reader, I think Klaus giving his occupation as “concierge” speaks of a somewhat literal interpretation. That is to say, it makes sense, even if it’s perhaps not the most accurate answer he could have given. “Volunteer” isn’t that accurate either, because the Baudelaires’ involvement with the organisation is more of an attempt at involvement. Sunny probably has it closest, although it’s Olaf’s answer to their occupation – “orphan, or inheritor of a large fortune” – that probably best describes the status responsible for how they spend much of their time. “But the Baudelaires were not standing in general. They were standing next to Count Olaf.” I think this is a reasonable interpretation. It seems that nobody can say, in general, that they are innocent, especially given all the meanings of that word. “Comparatively innocent,” while a somewhat equivocal response, is really the only response you can give when placed against someone like Count Olaf. I wonder, however, if this answer surprised Justice Strauss. Charles submitting “environmental studies” goes along with his environmentalist perspective as seen vaguely earlier in the book. Perhaps this is his equivalent to Jerome Squalor’s comprehensive history of injustice – that he’s doing his small bit to try and reduce the harm Sir does. “I submit this book about how wonderful I am!” Possibly – and I really hope it is – Carmelita’s autobiography from the U.A. “I submit my mother!” I think this is probably a one-off joke that spun out of Handler’s control, and he found himself calling back to it more and more. “opera synopses” – could this be part of a record that would help bring to light the truth of the La Forza del Destino incident? “mycological encyclopedias” – this is really Fiona’s area of interest, but it seems entirely probable that someone else in V.F.D. has been doing this sort of research on the Medusoid Mycelium. “cookies” – I can’t remember when cookies were mentioned before in aSoUE, but I’m fairly sure they were. Maybe. Olaf sighs before giving his account. I’d suggest that his full story is too long and painful even for him to tell. He knows it’s not a good one. And yet – “I’m the only important thing.” I think there’s almost a kind of nobility to it. Olaf doesn’t attempt to explain or justify his actions, just as he doesn’t apologise in The End. He is who he is, and you have to judge him on that, and nothing else. “I’m sure there’s more in that enormous pile of evidence that proves me innocent than there is that proves me guilty.” Considering everything that the evidence heap covers, this could even be true. Olaf’s not the only villain, or the worst. “…they had never had the opportunity to tell their entire tale…” Well, no, obviously they won’t, if you include everything that’s happened up to that very moment. But on previous occasions, they’ve told the entirety of their tale as it stands – to Hector, for instance. I think that we could overlook, at first, the “low, deep voice” that belongs to one of the other judges. It’s not suspicious or remarkable in itself that someone might have that kind of voice, even if they are contradicting the narrator’s description of Justice Strauss’s voice. The hoarse voice, however, if we’ve got a good memory of the sinister duo, probably clinches it. At this point, if you’ve figured out what’s happening, you know that all must be lost. How is Olaf holding Justice Strauss under his arm?! And I think the end of Chapter Eleven has to be one of the bleakest moments in aSoUE. It’s not philosophically negative, nor is it especially tragic, but from what we know of the sinister duo, they’re the worst people in the world… and they’re the other judges of the High Court, a group we’ve known about since the very second chapter of the series. At this point it has to be the ultimate betrayal. What a brilliant revelation. |
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Post by Hermes on Aug 18, 2009 14:47:50 GMT -5
I think that The End doesn't give us enough evidence to say when Anwhistle Aquatics was burnt down in relation to when Bertrand and Beatrice were on the island, but Fiona was alive at the time, and depending on what exactly you think Fiona's age is, and what age at which she'd be able to remember overhearing her brother and stepfather arguing, you might be able to date it back. It seems like the torching would probably have been after the Baudelaire parents returned - well, I guess that goes without saying, since they wouldn't have continued building a passageway to somewhere which no longer existed. Oh, certainly the burning of AA happened after the island events - the question is whether the building of the factory happened before or after them. I'm wondering whether Bertrand or Beartice may have referred to the factory when making use of horseradish on the island. Chapter 6. 'Over the past few months, Sunny had improved her walking abilities, adopted a more standard vocabulary, and even learned how to cook'. Actually I think all these achievements came in the last two weeks. An example of the time-dilation to which the series is subject. The idea of making Mrs Bass's bank robbery motivated by the need to bring valuables to the party is indeed, as Dante says, a brilliant retcon, but unfotunately it produces a chronological paradox; Mrs Bass was planning her robbery when Kit was teaching at Prufrock Prep - which was certainly before TSS at the latest, as Carmelita was still at the school - and this must have happened before Olaf started any plots to do with the hotel. Ah well, as this arises from TUA, I guess paradoxes are to be expected. The first few measures in Mrs Bass's order at the restaurant - ten grams, one tenth of a hectogram, a dekagram, one thousand centigrams - are actually all the same. 'Speaking of running from the law - ' 'We'll talk about that later'. Since they have previously been discussing Mrs Bass's life of crime quite openly, I had the feeling this related to another crime, but I can't think what that might be. It is certainly odd that Dewey doesn't know for sure who Hal is - he must have been in the hotel for a few days by now, mustn't he? - and Dewey isn't completely out of touch with Kit, as he arranged to clear away the brunch. Likewise it's odd he's not sure who Sunny is. I wonder if 'Are you who I think you are?' isn't a geruine request for information but some kind of code. (But later D actually says that he had to make sure the Baudelaires were who he thought they were. It's not clear how he made sure, if he didn't know already.) Presumably Lemony's hiding under a backgammon table happened when he was near the end of writing the books, some time (by the evidence of this book, at least) after the events. So who is the notorious villain under whose table he is hiding? Probably Esme - so she must have survived the fire; and she did get to host a c0cktail party in the end. And is this the first mention of backgammon in the book? The sealing of the laundry room is done with some emphasis - later the reason becomes clear; Dewey wants people to think the SB is there, so the volunteers can find it and make off with it while villains are trying to get into the room. It's therefore quite important that the washerwoman (Kevin) witnesses it. |
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Post by cwm on Aug 18, 2009 15:18:44 GMT -5
Re Olaf having Strauss under his arm - I presumed it just meant he had his arm wrapped around her waist. Possibly he was lifting her off the ground a bit.
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Post by Dante on Aug 18, 2009 15:18:53 GMT -5
Oh, certainly the burning of AA happened after the island events - the question is whether the building of the factory happened before or after them. I'm wondering whether Bertrand or Beartice may have referred to the factory when making use of horseradish on the island. I've checked what I think would be the only pertinent quotes from A Series of Unfortunate Events (the book, not the series), and it looks like they don't mention the horseradish factory - which of course isn't evidence that it's not there, although the fact that the Baudelaire parents feel the need to take away some horseradish with them may or may not be suggestive. Probably a side-effect of the fact that the last two weeks have, from the author's and reader's perspective, taken place over the course of some... four years, perhaps? Yeah, I don't think I can come up with an explanation for that one without directly contradicting TSS; while it's conceivable that invitations to a headphonestail party might be sent out a fortnight or even more in advance, it's inconceivable that Olaf just happened to be planning to hold it at the very same location which turns out to be V.F.D.'s last safe place. Oh, that's clever. I can't remember if I'd ever thought to check before; probably, but I don't remember, so it is as new to me. Ah, but when they were talking about it before, there wasn't a suspicious foreigner in the vicinity, just one of those hotel workers in the funny costumes. And at that, Nero never mentions Mrs. Bass's criminal activities; it's all Remora and Bass themselves. Maybe it took him this long to decide that they were being too chatty. However, I do agree that there is a sort of implication that the teachers are working together on some joint criminal scheme, while they certainly didn't collaborate on the bank robbery. But it could equally well all be the same bank robbery - perhaps Remora and Nero became implicated and are, like Mrs. Bass, to some extent on the run from the law - or certainly they're complicit in her criminal acts, since they show no interest whatsoever in handing her over to the police. Mrs. Bass's bank robbery seems quite unremarkable to them. Which is why the teachers are such great characters in TPP. I think I suggested earlier that Dewey, in this uncertain environment, might feel it best to be cautious in case Hal had been replaced by another aged man in disguise - Gregor, even. As I suggested earlier, the Baudelaires too could just be villainous recruits planted in hotel employment by Ernest. Bear in mind that Dewey has never met the Baudelaires before, and any photographs of them are probably quite old - the TWW one certainly would be by this time. Likewise, Dewey might simply not have met Hal yet. He has his own errands to run. Hmm, I disagree. I think it's more likely to be tied to the backgammon incident in which the woman with hair but no beard broke her finger. But indeed, Chapter Six is the first time backgammon appears in TPP. I'll agree that Lemony's statement implies that he has already written twelve or thirteen books at this point (and I'm not going to insult you by saying we should count the U.A. and the BBRE), but his "Snicketisms," I think, do sometimes transcend time in that fashion. He may be being purely hypothetical - it's often ambiguous. Certainly Lemony is still the same person now he has written twelve or thirteen books as he was when he would've been hiding under a villain's coffee table for a literary experiment. In other words, I don't think we should take anything away from this except perhaps in relation to the book's only other mention of a villain-related backgammon incident. Edit: Re Olaf having Strauss under his arm - I presumed it just meant he had his arm wrapped around her waist. Possibly he was lifting her off the ground a bit. Okay, fair enough. I was picturing Justice Strauss more horizontal, like a bale of twigs or a ladder or something. Justice Strauss should really be struggling or something, but Olaf is probably quite strong and used to committing acts of violence, whereas it's been a long time since Justice Strauss's horse-stealing days. |
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Post by Hermes on Aug 19, 2009 9:35:11 GMT -5
Chapter 7.
The opening passage of this chapter is one of my favourite passages in the whole series. Like two later passages - the one about the taxi driver, and the 'where are they now?' passage near the end - it brings a sense of mystery into the work; not of a puzzle which needs to be solved, but of the fundamental mysteriousness of life. It beings with events which are actually relevant to the story, but then moves outwards, taking a wider perspective; and the last item - 'in yet another city.... someone learned something and there was some sort of fuss, or so I have been led to believe' shows, I think, that this is not a pattern in which everything is a clue, but rather a description of a large and mysterious world. (By the way. this is a rare recognition that there are other cities. Apart from Winnipeg, I suppose.)
- 'a woman was recognised by a chemist'; the chemist is clearly Colette; who did she recognise? Dante's suggestion that it was Kevin, in disguise, makes sense, in which case the ambidextrous man in the basement must be Dewey. Otherwise, someone she knows from the carnival? I think it would be quite nice if it were the figurine-seller.
- The housekeeper incident is presumably there in order to justify a misleading picture. Music, by the way, comes under 700 in the Dewey classification, which explains why the annoying song was coming from the floor above.
- The volunteer in room 296 has only just realised that Hebrew is written from right to left, which suggests he is not really a rabbi. (There's no 'rabbi disguise' in the VFD disguise manual, but it does say 'try your own'.)
- The banker in room 174 is later shown to be Mr Poe (yet again having problems with communication, even though some telephone wires are clearly working again). This, by the way, shows that there are hotel rooms on the ground floor; it's not all taken up with the lobby, the coffee shop etc.
- The taxi driver; could be the same as the one from chapter 10 - he presumably did something else between dropping Justice Strauss off in the morning, and picking her up again for a nocturnal expedition. But it might equally be someone else. So did Hugo arrive only that morning? Or was he supposed to be collecting baggage for someone else? Or has the taxi driver been standing there for several days? (Not impossible, I guess, in Snicketland.)
- The woman searching the sea; quite likely to be the same woman we meet in chapter 10; but what is she searching for? Presumably not the sugar bowl, as it hasn't been dropped yet.
- 'a long, black automobile took a woman away from a man she loved'; I was thinking of this as paralleling Lemony/Beatrice, but it has just struck me that it parallels Dewey/Kit as well. And the four children of course parallel the Baudelaires themselves - while making an interesting break with the three-child pattern.
So, how does the crow plan work? Presumably the original idea was simply for the crows to arrive at the hotel and hand the SB over to a responsible person, e.g. Dewey. O got wind of this and formed a plan to shoot them down - this would not by itself give him the SB, as it wasn't clear where it would fall, but it gave him a chance at it. Dewey, having worked this out, forms a plan to mislead O into thinking the SB is in the laundry room, while another volunteer rescues it from the lake.
The picture shows the whole rope unrolled before Dewey descends, which does not fit the description in the text.
Clearly the rope-climbing trainer, at least, is still alive, showing that not all volunteers have been destroyed.
Mr Snicket's reading of John Godfrey Saxe - rather like his reading of Swinburne, and, later, of Richard Wright - seems oddly limited; he takes 'theologic wars' to mean simply 'arguing over what different people believe', so that the moral turns out to be just that the blind men were arguing pointlessly. This misses the religious application of the poem (which I'm sure Handlker, as opposed to Snicket, would sympathise with).
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Post by Dante on Aug 19, 2009 10:07:14 GMT -5
- 'a woman was recognised by a chemist'; the chemist is clearly Colette; who did she recognise? Dante's suggestion that it was Kevin, in disguise, makes sense, in which case the ambidextrous man in the basement must be Dewey. Otherwise, someone she knows from the carnival? I think it would be quite nice if it were the figurine-seller. The figurine-seller would also be quite a nice answer, and she too would have a reason to be at the hotel - although it's odd that the two should be on such good terms. But at that, Kevin doesn't strike me as the giggling sort, either. Unless it was all part of the disguise. Hmm, I rather fancy not. The pictures are drawn based on the text, not vice-versa. And Olaf is referred to as having disguised himself as a rabbi before, I think? I think that Hugo was collecting baggage for someone else is probably the best explanation, since he should probably have been at the hotel since the close of TSS - the sinister duo's new recruits apparently having been deposited there. And also, what happens to the rope? It is left dangling down from the clock, but is presumably not present in any of the later lobby-set scenes. Hmm, I think TPP represents the poem well without taking up too much space with quotations and analysis, but I'm not too interested in going into it. ~Chapter Twelve~ “The woman with hair but no beard pointed a finger at the three children that looked as crooked as she was. The finger had been broken long ago, in a dispute over a game of backgammon, which is another story that would take at least thirteen books to describe, but in the Baudelaires’ story the finger only made this brief appearance as it pointed at the children with alarm.” As I’ve been discussing with Hermes, my opinion is that it’s only logical to connect this, if to anything, to Lemony’s earlier mention of being hidden under a backgammon table etc. Also important is that this really makes obvious the “multiple stories” concept that will become all-important very soon – the idea that this isn’t just one story, but a huge many stories inter-secting, all with beginnings and endings that are out of our sight. This eventually sets up the lack of literal resolution in The End, although thematic resolution is, I think, achieved. But there’s another point I want to make here. I feel that the sinister duo become somewhat… I suppose I might say “trivialised” in TPP. That is to say, they aren’t as good as they were in TSS. They’ve lost their aura of menace. They don’t even express their previous pure malevolence. And it feels wrong to me that the sinister woman would be even able of feeling “alarm” – the most we got was slight nervousness in TSS when some apparent volunteers appeared and she didn’t know what she was dealing with, but here it’s definitely just the Baudelaires and they’ve played right into her hands. It’s also prevent in the addition of banal offhand references to them – the allusion to having interviewed one of their math teachers, the random detail about the backgammon incident. I feel that to take the sinister duo as seriously as one did when they were introduced, any sense of backstory you add to them has to have that kind of serious depth, too. “They’re bank robbers!” I think this supports my point earlier about Mrs. Bass trying to deflect suspicion away from herself. Also, this last sequence of various characters crying out things just feels to me rather awkwardly-written. It doesn’t have quite that sense of plausibility; I don’t think some of the characters here would say what they say, both in the detail and in the very fact of speaking. Anyway, the sinister duo cleverly make the best of the chaos by declaring that they’ll judge any “suspicious” people there and then, which is one more way of corrupting the trial, which presumably would always have been corrupted; even if Justice Strauss protests, the sinister duo outnumber her two-to-one. “We’ll tell you if they’re villains or not… After all, you can’t make such judgements yourselves!” “ Wrong!” I think there’s a bit of thematic inconsistency here, as the Baudelaires certainly couldn’t tell who was a volunteer or a villain themselves in this book, and they had some trouble in TGG, too. However, I think a personal judgement on the matter would be likely to be better than that given by the sinister duo, who are simply going to condemn their enemies and commend their allies, and the confusion of the Baudelaires was partly because everyone else was confused. Nonetheless, I feel that the sense that the Baudelaires are working with Olaf, or complicit with him, is powerful when they’re just forced to follow him around here, and can’t do anything to really stop his plans. That sets in motion the end of the book. The Baudelaires no longer have a plan. Olaf does, and they must be drawn into that plan. He doesn’t even mind telling them any more. It is as though the Baudelaires are no longer players. “You’ll fail.” “Your mother told me the same thing… Ha! But one day, when I was seven years old—” Impossible to tell how this would’ve ended. I’m not even sure Olaf should’ve met Beatrice before he was seven years old, although given that Sunny is younger than seven then it’s evidently possible for someone younger than that to speak in such terms. I wonder what the story would’ve been. There aren’t really any significant incidents in the very childhoods of the backstory characters beyond their recruitment. Ideas? It was probably something trivial. “…but you can find any item in a library if you have one thing… A hostage.” Olaf sounds like he’s speaking from experience here. I like this. It’s the sort of occasion which would clearly have come up before in his life. Justice Strauss must be a bit dim to not have noticed that her fellow judges are also villains. I mean, come on, they just sat there and did nothing while Olaf dragged her off! Wasn’t she paying attention when they publicly denounced the Baudelaires and effectively told the crowd to be sure not to capture Olaf? Maybe she was too busy weakly struggling in the crook of Olaf’s arm. She’s also very naïve. Her faith in Jerome Squalor’s book is very touching, but in this case it’s pointless; it has no practical purpose. Also, Justice Strauss takes out the book by reaching “behind her back.” Did she have it taped to her back or something? If she’d been holding it all along – which would explain what she was doing with her hands rather than struggling – why was it behind her back? “I’ve known them for years! I’ve told them everything that was happening to you children, and they were always very interested!” I think this must establish the sinister duo as having been members of the High Court all along, while some people thought they were recent impostors. “Of course they were interested, you fool… They passed along all that information to me, so I could catch up with the orphans!” Madame Lulu much, Olaf? And Justice Strauss was behind the orphans all the way, so her information shouldn’t have been able to help him find them, although it might have given him information about their specific activities and thoughts. Also, TSS gives the impression that it’s been a long time not just since Olaf met the sinister duo, but since they even communicated; there’s a distance between them. “No one’s interested in their story… Even if you wrote down every last detail, no one would read such a dreadful thing.” A curious meeting of minds between Olaf and Lemony here, but Lemony clearly thinks that people will read such a dreadful thing, which is why he tries to stop them… and yet, paradoxically, he also wants the general public to find out the truth, so what’s going on there? This is a problem which has been present since probably the very first book. The various sounds the Vernacularly Fastened Door makes as it activates are also drawn straight from TSS. “Tell me what the weapon is that left you an orphan, and I’ll type it in for you.” Count Olaf gave Klaus a slow smile that made the Baudelaires shudder. “Certainly I’ll tell you,” he said. “It was poison darts.”” Twice now Olaf has smiled in a particularly disturbing way when referring to this incident. I think this is probably because one of the most powerful weapons he has against the Baudelaires is the ability to destroy their faith in their parents. What makes it all the sweeter for him is that it’s true, and yet at the same time that fact is very painful to him. This is why his expression is so eerie – that mixture of sweet pleasure and great pain at speaking such a horrible truth. Oh, and by the way, some people have decided that “orphan” refers only to children – since many adults would otherwise be orphans – and so that the poison dart incident must’ve happened when Olaf was young, and therefore that it happened before the Baudelaire children were born. But I think various circumstances make that seem highly unlikely; it’s an incident that happened in the past few years, I should think, or even months. The closer it gets, the greater is Olaf’s motivation for having destroyed the Baudelaire parents and sought out revenge on their children, if indeed it was he. But anyway, to the point: Dewey is referred to as an orphan in Chapter Eight, so clearly it can be used in a way that disregards age. “Tears fell from the eyes of the orphans—all four of them” – page 188. Also, I think this is the culmination and payoff of the hints about the poison darts and the opera in this book. I think we’re all agreed on pretty much what is implied to have happened – at a performance of La Forza del Destino, the Baudelaire parents murdered Olaf’s parents with poison darts. There are various purely fanonical innovations one can come up with on this. Here’s a couple of mine: Firstly, that Olaf’s parents were performing in the opera – that Olaf therefore comes from a theatrical background – and that they were killed with the poison darts during the final scene, which as Lemony mentions features each character dying in turn. Thus their deaths would’ve been concealed among all the other performing corpses on-stage. Secondly, that the poison for the darts was provided by Dr. Montgomery and his reptiles, thus giving Olaf’s murder of him a personal dimension as well. This gives Olaf a greater revenge motive, which makes him more morally ambiguous, hooray! I feel it’s in the spirit of the books that this should be the case, even while it’s also apparent that Olaf is a terrible, terrible person. “I always wondered how you did that.” This also helps bridge the gap between Olaf and the Baudelaires, by establishing that he has some slight respect for their own ability to overcome seemingly impossible circumstances. This may also be in the fact that it adds a personal dimension to Olaf – humanises him, almost, by providing a sense of a narrative in which he too wonders about just what his opponents are doing. ““So it would appear,” Klaus said slyly.” Aside from the fact that it’s Klaus rather than Dewey, this is very similar to a passage from Chapter Eight, in which Dewey was behaving slyly and said the same thing. “Peccant” isn’t a very menacing-sounding word, but the meaning is. Also, Olaf’s rage at having failed to acquire the sugar bowl, and having lost it forever, is extraordinary. It’s so enormous that the only way he can sate it is by killing everyone, even his own allies, his ex-girlfriend, and so on. It’s monstrous. But I think that in Olaf’s mind, in failing to get him the sugar bowl or even successfully locate it, Olaf’s allies are just as guilty of thwarting him personally as his enemies. So that’s why they have to go, too. Oh, and I just realised – I thought it was in this chapter, but it’s Chapter Nine. There’s a typo, “her sisters,” the “her” being Sunny. It’s meant to be “siblings,” as in the context it refers to Sunny walking to stand with Violet and Klaus, but some people took it as further indication that there was a secret Baudelaire sibling, possibly the Beatrice in TBL (when that came out). But I think – and I think this about TBL too – that if you’re looking for clues in typos, you’ve gone off the deep end. Violet agreeing to help Olaf escape so the Baudelaires can escape with him shows that the Baudelaires have finally broken ranks with all their supposed allies, recognising that they aren’t going to be any help. It almost seems as if, for all Olaf’s terrible flaws, he knows how the world works – indeed, that you have to do some villainous things to know how the world works. This is almost implied in The End, but we’ll get there. Also, it, along with Klaus’s assistance, as morally ambiguous assistance of Olaf, leads up to Sunny’s final and most wicked and morally dubious statement of all. Notice how long it’s drawn out for. A page and a half between Sunny saying there’s one more thing, and her saying what it is. And in-between that in terms of dialogue and movement there are only two short sentences from Olaf. It’s the thought and weight of moral shift that draws it out. It’s excellent. The ending of this chapter, finally giving us the payoff where the Baudelaires seem to tip over into outright villainy at last, is very well-written. One of the best parts of the series. “And of course, all three Baudelaires felt this delicate balance when they thought about Dewey Denouement, and that terrible instant when the weapon in their hands brought about his death.” But it wasn’t in their hands when it brought about his death. Although it’s truer to the La Forza del Destino parallel for the Baudelaires to have dropped the harpoon gun and for it to have killed Dewey then, I half wonder if in an earlier draft the Baudelaires didn’t do a bit more – that, for example, in trying to haul the harpoon gun from Olaf’s hands, the trigger went off, and none of them know whether Olaf pulled it deliberately, or accidentally, or whether one of their own hands accidentally hooked it. I also think that this would be more plausible than the gun just going off when it hits the floor, in the sense that the trigger would in this case definitely be activated. However – this would lack the operatic allegory. |
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Post by Hermes on Aug 19, 2009 11:39:39 GMT -5
The figurine-seller would also be quite a nice answer, and she too would have a reason to be at the hotel - although it's odd that the two should be on such good terms. They may just know each other as fellow-workers, without being aware of one another's allegiance. That's not inconsistent. It doesn 't need to be an ex post facto justification. Handler writes the passage, gives it to Helquist, and says 'Draw me a misleading picture based on that'. Yes (though this can't be Olaf, as they are definitely called a volunteer rather than a villain). I'm not suggesting he should actually have gone into the theologic wars. But he didn't need to bring this verse in at all; the poem, up to 'Each was partly in the right and all were in the wrong', makes the relevant point about the Baudlaires' situation. Then he adds the final verse, which is supposed to draw an analogy, but doesn't see the analogy that it draws. Given his similarly rather wooden readings of Swinburne and Wright, I think this is meant to be in character for Lemony. There's no question that clues can be found in typos; the plot of TWW turns on it. Of course, they aren't really typos; but what is, and what isn't, a real typo is precisly the point at issue. I actually agree, now, that there are no clues in typos in TBL, but that's because I have looked and failed to find any, not because I think it's intrinsically absurd. |
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Post by Dante on Aug 19, 2009 14:30:44 GMT -5
They may just know each other as fellow-workers, without being aware of one another's allegiance. It strikes me as more of a reaction from two friends unexpectedly encountering one another while both in a bizarre situation - that is, it... but then again, the figurine-seller could well have been a relatively good friend of the freaks, if she was a volunteer and at the carnival. Again, I'm fairly sure it doesn't work like that; I don't think Handler has much input on what actually gets drawn. I think authors usually get to okay the drafts, but they don't get to dictate. And I find the correspondance between the relevant sentence and the relative pictures too... too trivial to have been an intentional choice on Handler's part, any more than the dwarves and the goat would've been his choice. Quite, but it establishes the possibility. Jewish culture is evidently far from unknown in the setting of aSoUE, so a rabbi outfit may be relatively standard fare among the personal additions to a disguise kit. Ah, now I see what you mean. I wasn't quite sure before. I think that - well, while I agree that the lines quoted don't all have the most direct relevance to the story, the fact that they form the final stanza of the poem I think grants the punch required to close off the allusion. I don't find the idea intrinsically absurd. I find it generally absurd. I am happy to find clues in typos in a context in which they are likely to be found; however, to look at every typo as a potential revelation rather than the far more probable answer, that it's a mistake which slipped through the editing process, strikes me as being an unhelpfully gullible stance. It's the sort of stance which is the reason why nearly every long-running series approaching a finale sees the fans come up with ideas far more bizarre and complicated than the ultimate work. |
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Post by Hermes on Aug 19, 2009 15:56:26 GMT -5
Again, I'm fairly sure it doesn't work like that; I don't think Handler has much input on what actually gets drawn. I think authors usually get to okay the drafts, but they don't get to dictate. And I find the correspondance between the relevant sentence and the relative pictures too... too trivial to have been an intentional choice on Handler's part, any more than the dwarves and the goat would've been his choice. Yes, but this is a special case; it's not a chapter illustration, but a 'not a chapter' illustration, which wouldn't have been created if the author hadn't had a specific purpose; so I don't find it improbable that he had some input into it. On the general point I totally agree. Both in Snicket and in Harry Potter, the truth is that most things are what they seem, but a few things, scattered among them, are clues; it messes things up if people treat everything as a clue. But I think that both in TPP and in TBL there was something to alert us to the possibility that these typos might be significant; in TPP the 'previously unknown sibling' reference, and in TBL the presence of two clearly deliberate typos. Those who tried to find further significance were, as it turned out, wrong, but not mad, I think. Edit: the typo in the penultimate paragrpah of my last post is not significant. |
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Post by Dante on Aug 20, 2009 6:19:11 GMT -5
Deliberately waited until tomorrow to post this response so that I wouldn't have to wait all day to avoid double-posting upon finishing my Chapter Thirteen commentary. Yes, but this is a special case; it's not a chapter illustration, but a 'not a chapter' illustration, which wouldn't have been created if the author hadn't had a specific purpose; so I don't find it improbable that he had some input into it. Even if only one part of it is exposed, an elephant is still an elephant, whatever you choose to call it. Formatting-wise, the necessity of a chapter illustration for the Not A Chapters is quite apparent; an almost comparable case would be the Chapter Fives in TCC, although of course the very reason for the existence of an additional chapter opening there necessitated the duplication of the corresponding chapter picture. In other words, the Not A Chapters not having chapter illustrations would look very odd. I will, however, grant you that a scenario such as the following may have emerged between Handler and his editor Susan Rich: Susan Rich considers these not-a-chapter breaks. "Should these have chapter illustrations or not?" is the question she idly poses, in words possibly resembling this arrangement. "Why yes," paraphrases in this hypothetical situation the dear author. "Perhaps Mr. Helquist could draw a triptych." However, I fear that this is the limit to which I will push my imaginings of this wholly fictional meeting. ~Chapter Thirteen~ Here the mirror device is used in a different way to all previous experiences – the text is flipped not horizontally, but vertically. This matches the pond outside the Hotel Denouement, and thus pertains to the catalogue, which is itself mentioned in the text that gets mirrored. The flames in the illustration are not reflected – possibly as a comment on the continuing safety of the catalogue, which is not affected by the letoH’s destruction? Olaf seems to feel a perverse glee, obscuring the fact that it was never his objective to be a “good guardian,” at having convinced one of his greatest enemies to join his cause. I think that explains it. “With all these errands I had to do…” Mirrors the way the Baudelaires have also been spending their time running errands, although I suppose Olaf’s are self-motivated. Their powerful sibling bond overcomes even Violet and Klaus’s absolute objection to an arson which will take the lives of, hm, probably hundreds of people. Compare Fiona and Fernald. While I don’t know anything about arson, Olaf’s arson method here seems distinctly more realistic than previous portrayals, which seem to have largely involved throwing flaming torches around. “…what looked like a carefully drawn diagram, with arrows and dotted lines and a paragraph of notation underneath. The Baudelaires leaned forward to see if they could read what the injustice expert had written, and caught only the word “passageway”…” I don’t think we’ve ever established exactly what this would refer to, but I have a vague memory that it’s been linked to the Quagmires’ apartment map; the 667-Baudelaire passageway would, I think, be relevant to Jerome’s research. Even when one remembers that it technically was written in less than a fortnight, it has to be an extremely bleak moment when Jerome’s book is burnt. The last chance for any real justice is vanquished, and while many libraries have been burnt in the series, this is the first time we actually see the burning of a book. I think it works as a pay-off. It puts the bare-faced anti-intellectualism into the light. At this point it actually seems redundant to try and poison the hotel guests with the Medusoid Mycelium. There’s only a few more that it’ll finish off who wouldn’t have been killed in the fire. Note that learning the full text of the “In Case Of Fire” sign is probably the only time we learn what a quotation or piece of text said after it is interrupted mid-way through. In that case I guess it’s also a sort of pay-off, but it’s not like we should’ve been expecting any great secrets from the sign. As Lemony points out, we should really already know what it says. If we’d thought about it back at Chapter Three, it would’ve probably been a bigger clue. As it is, I don’t think we ever even see the stairs. The Hotel Preludio is clearly a counterpart to the Hotel Denouement, in chronology and design. The famous chandeliers are probably linked to the Hotel Denouement’s famous clock, while the outdoor swimming pool is linked both to the Denouement pond and, I think, to the rooftop sunbathing salon. I note here requests for a prequel featuring the Baudelaires’ visit to the Preludio have been made, but I don’t see what we’d get out of it. The Baudelaire parents would maybe do a lot of interesting things on-screen, but the kids would just muck about and eat raw carrots for breakfast. Also note that, while Lemony treats Beatrice as though she’s some figure of divine radiance, the portrayal of the Baudelaire parents is often rather less dignified. But that’s because they’re normal. All the characters are, really; they’re not serious all the time. The Eleanora mentioned as having been at the Hotel Preludio may be Eleanora Poe; if so, she is a “tiresome woman,” which seems to be the case given what we learn elsewhere and given the manner of her brother. It’s interesting that Handler chose to mention that particular name – I think it’s probably because there wasn’t ever going to be a chance to mention Eleanora in the main series ever again. (Since the main series will probably be reprinted again and again in the future while the supplements probably will not, this allusion may at some point cease to be a nod to the fans and simply be mysterious.) And here we get another excellent sequence, the tour up the hotel in the elevator. I see it as a sort of… now, what’s the term. Trip down memory lane? This is the last time we’ll see any of these characters, and there’s an attempt to give them all a send-off of sorts. “Call the fire department!” “Which one?” One of the few references, and even then only implicit, to the Official Fire Department in the main series. Conceivably Frank would’ve been referring to the Volunteer, and Ernest the Official, but since V.F.D. is kinda already on the scene then it doesn’t really make sense to talk about calling them. Again, it’s just a nod and a wink. At this point, such truths can’t come to much. Oh, also, notice that the sinister judges are perfectly happy to capture Olaf now, partly for the immediate convenience of concealing their own villainy, and partly because this independent action could endanger them. Also, Olaf is extremely cold in trying to convince Esmé and Carmelita not to take off their blindfolds and leave. He’s luring them to their deaths! It’s quite different to them simply dying along with everyone else; here he’s playing an active role in endangering them personally. “Leave us alone! …We can find our own way!” And with those distinctly ominous words, we see the last of Esmé and Carmelita, who, we are told, will never argue with the Baudelaires again. Since they’ve pretty much done nothing but argue with the Baudelaires, this is as good as saying that Esmé and Carmelita are dead, although they may simply never meet the Baudelaires again. These two can’t find their own way. They’re blind. “I can’t leave… I’m still in charge of the Baudelaires’ affairs, and their parents fort—” It’s been noted that it’s odd that Mr. Poe would say this at this time, since it seems to be a bit of a non-sequitur. There are two explanations: Firstly that the Baudelaires are evidently still in the hotel, and Mr. Poe has to stay behind because they are his business; and secondly, the theory that Mrs. Bass’s stolen wealth includes the Baudelaire fortune. I didn’t like that theory at first – I considered it unsatisfying – but with the benefit of hindsight, it’s that or no resolution at all. It’s an interesting crossover of events, and we know that Mr. Poe is investigating the bank robbery. There’s an apparent error here – Mrs. Bass is said to be on the third storey, and that she was heard muttering something, but the third storey is where Mr. Poe was, and no other figures or voices were said to be present or even had the chance to say much. It could’ve all been going on in the background to Mr. Poe – which would be very ironic, since he’d be so close to the robber he’s seeking – but it sounds like an error. Notice that Mrs. Bass has parted ways with Nero and Remora, possibly to start a new life as an individual practitioner who flees from criminal proceedings. Nero and Remora would be less worried about this sort of thing. The “getaway car” might be a stolen taxi. Charles and Sir, “holding hands so as not to lose one another.” Aww! Even for just business partners, they’d be very close. I suppose you could argue that Sir values the housework that Charles does for him, at least. Hugo, Colette and Kevin are holding the birdpaper; Hugo is heard to ask about the plan for the hors d’ouvres and Colette talks about plucking crow feathers. A very good theory posited on this forum concerning the hors d’ouvres is that they were not going to comprise the Mycelium – they were going to be the crows. The volunteers were going to be asked to literally eat crow before they were murdered. “a man with a guitar making friends with a woman in a crow-shaped hat” – a Volunteer Fighting Disease and one of the V.F.D. Elders, presumably. The man sings a song to her later. These two have been paired in fanfiction. “they heard a man call for Bruce” – the last mention of Bruce was someone asking him at the start of Chapter Ten to come back to bed. Is this the same individual?! Bruce may have more in common with Sir than simply his appearance. I don’t think that we’re meant to take any of these possible character futures seriously. They’re merely to illustrate Lemony’s lack of knowledge; because he knows nothing about what happened to these people, literally anything is possible. Including the possibility that they’re all dead. The Hotel Denouement’s roof is itself tilted. I can’t remember whether this was said to be the case before, but consider this: If the roof is tilted, how does the swimming pool stay full? And doesn’t it also imply that every single floor of the hotel is also tilted, so people are constantly standing on a slope? Also, I think the motifs are very well-woven here. It’s very appropriate that the final scene in TPP uses the main characters from TBB. In many ways, the series ends here. The End is a lot like a coda or an epilogue. There has been occasionally a sense that the history of the Baudelaires is somewhat cyclical; it’s present at the end of TGG and it’s present here. I think it’s a powerful similarity to exploit, but given the mirror motif in TPP, it had to be done. Seeing how Justice Strauss, such a kind and honourable person, hasn’t changed, and how she now has to see the Baudelaires so differently, shows how the Baudelaires have changed instead. This final scene, with Justice Strauss representing, if you like, the forces of good, and Olaf the forces of evil, also serve to explain how the Baudelaires seem responsible for equal parts good and evil. Ultimately, their own actions in this world are ambiguous and equivocal. “Maybe our friends will find us. Hector should be flying this way, with Kit Snicket and the Quagmires.” “And Fiona.” I think this is less to suggest that Fiona might for some reason have teamed up with this lot – although, as we later learn, she did – but just to remind us of her existence, and the fact that she does count among the Baudelaires’ friends. However, I think Sunny’s “No” – her denial that any of the Baudelaires’ friends will be coming this way, with the Hotel Denouement signal fire warning them off – in retrospect must serve as a warning that these characters may not return at all. Still, there is “Maybe our friends will find us anyway,” but if TPP represents a major shift in the direction of the plot, I think Handler probably knew where The End would go at this point – especially with the Medusoid Mycelium and the single harpoon in place. That hope, that the Baudelaires’ friends will find them, has to live in the future. Justice Strauss helps the Baudelaires escape… and then refuses to leave and tries to stop them from escaping. Okay. I also think Justice Strauss represents, here, commitment to a principle beyond the point of pragmatism. Despite her failures, she is one of the most noble, and the most foolish, characters in the series, since she wants to stay behind even though it means certain death. Also, it is revealed at this point that it was Justice Strauss in the taxi following the Baudelaires at the start of the book, indicating that perhaps she too received the telegram copied to J.S. in TGG but was a little slow in getting there. There’s probably a parallel between Sunny biting Justice Strauss’s hand here and here having done it in TBB. There it was friendly and affectionate; here it’s necessary to get rid of her. Notice also how it’s written: Sunny “bit the hand of justice.” Justice the concept, not Justice Strauss (well, her as well). The Baudelaires are so unfortunate that they’ve had to spurn even justice and the hopes of a fair conclusion to their story. “…the building trembled again, sending the judge tumbling to the ground…” Quite a few people interpreted this as meaning that Justice Strauss fell off the building and down to ground level, which would certainly mean her death, but I read it as being that she fell to the floor of the roof, that is, the surface she was standing on. It may be intentionally ambiguous, though. “Mommy!” I can’t decide if this is purely comic or if it represents a child-like fear and a longing for protection in Olaf, who of course lost his parents. It’s somewhat humanising; the Baudelaires wish their parents could come back, too. “We’re all in the same boat.” At this point in the series, all hope is lost, so many potential solutions and resolutions have been destroyed, and the Baudelaires must be utterly in despair. Also note that this ending has been represented by one critic as Handler’s attempt to justify the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Centre. I think that’s quite, quite wide of the mark, although there is some similar imagery. Endpiece: The water tower Helquist traditionally depicts in his drawings of the city is still there. In search of the traditional clue to the following book in this final illustration, the only thing we really leapt on is the flock of birds on the right of the image, which seem quite out of place. These would seem to relate to the eagles, but of course they don’t actually appear on-screen in the last book. My assumption about this image would be that Helquist had to guess at the contents of the last book, since the Kind Editor letters provide no clues – although Helquist probably got his clue for the TSS endpiece straight from Handler, since mushrooms aren’t mentioned anywhere. The most succinct Kind Editor letter. It’s quite bleak that there is no detail beyond a single, foreboding message: “The end is near.” It’s also the message we were given at the end of TheNamelessNovel.com. A few notes. First is that the object in question is a napkin, which may or may not be linked to the monogrammed napkins mentioned earlier, and that there is an image of a ship on it, which could be linked to the boat the Baudelaires are on or could be linked to the Prospero, and I admit the latter was tempting. Also notice that while the title of the following book appears, once again, to be obscured, in fact it’s concealed here: The last book is The End, and it is near. But few people were prepared to predict a title that would break the title pattern that had lasted the whole series – I’m not sure anyone was prepared to at this point, although later we were. BONUS! !!! What did you think the title of The Penultimate Peril was going to be?!?! I recall settling on the arrangement "The L- Lobby." "Laborious" or some similar word - but not "Loathsome," that having been applied relatively soon before to a box set of the first six books entitled The Loathsome Library. (I think there was meant to be a volume 2 of TLL, but alas, there never was, which is a great shame as it had some excellent box art and I'd like to see what a second volume would have looked like.) TheNamelessNovel made a habit out of suggesting false titles here and there - The Theoretical Truth, The Horrid Hotel, The Dastardly Denouement. I recall at least one person later mentioning that the actual title of TPP was a guess they had submitted to a British guess-the-title contest, to which I also contributed "The Cynical Cycle" full well knowing it would be better suited to a box set - but the winning title was according to the rules specifically meant to not be the one that would ultimately appear on the cover. (Coda: It was. We actually had to point out to the publishers their error.) |
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