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Post by Dante on Dec 14, 2010 9:51:27 GMT -5
That's odd, really; there's so much potential for stories about the adult characters as children. It's great that you're utilising that potential, Tiago.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Dec 14, 2010 14:58:25 GMT -5
That's odd, really; there's so much potential for stories about the adult characters as children. It's great that you're utilising that potential, Tiago. Yes, it is. I suppose one of the reasons I enjoy reading about the adult characters so much in fanfic is because we know next to nothing about their history in the canon, aside from the Baudelaires' interpretations. That, and the adult characters just happen to be my favorites for the sake of emotional attachment purposes. ;D
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Post by Christmas Chief on Dec 15, 2010 15:19:04 GMT -5
I find it rather difficult to come up with a plausible and interesting explanation for the adult characters as younger ones, so perhaps it is for that reason there isn't as much fiction in that area as one might suspect (of course, that reason probably applies to a lot more than just adults-as-younger-characters fiction).
And ah yes, the good days of 19XX. I look forward to seeing what Esmé was doing then.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jan 22, 2011 13:31:06 GMT -5
Author's Disclaimer: Again, sorry for the absurd delay. It took me time to build a satisfactory timeline of Esmé's life, and what you see here is the result of some extra hard work. I hope you enjoy another chapter of TED. ^^ Chapter Two
Orphaned December, 25th, 19XX
Dear Diary, My mommy is even sicker. The doctors say she needs to be in the mad house, but daddy won’t let them take mommy to the mad house. That is a bad place. Today was Christmas. Beatrice and I got many gifts from daddy, but Estelle didn’t like that I got gifts. I fave one of my gifts to my mommy. I gave her a doll to be her friend when she’s alone at night. She can’t sleep so I gave her the doll to comfort her. Estelle doesn’t let me near my mommy’s room. I hate Estelle!
Esmé December 31st, 19xx
Dear Diary,
It’s horrible what happened! One night, I was asleep in Beatrice’s room, because we sleep together whenever we can fool Estelle. I heard screams and I saw a light through the bottom of the door. It was a bright red light, and I could smell smoke. Somehow I knew the house was on fire. I took Beatrice’s hand and got out of there. There was too much fire everywhere but I got Beatrice out of there thinking daddy and Estelle had already gone out. The thing is… they didn’t! The firemen came and told us the whole house burned down. The servants all died, along with Estelle and daddy. They wouldn’t let us see the bodies. They didn’t find my mommy. I’m scared to death that she might have died too! What am I going to do?
Esmé January 3rd
Dear Diary,
They found my mommy wandering in the woods. Her hands were burned. They are blaming her for the fire! They took her to the mad house! I’m afraid for her, for me, and for Beatrice. My life is only getting worse and I don’t know what to do!
Esmé January 4th
Dear Diary,
They are sending me and Beatrice to the Orphanage, because we don’t have aunts or uncles who could take care of us. Beatrice cries all the time now. I don’t cry in front of her. No, I don’t want her to become more sad.
Later that day The headmaster of the Orphanage agreed to take us in. They said the Salinger fortune will cover the expenses until Beatrice is eighteen. I don’t understand. I’m older than her two years. Why does the fortune cover everything until she turns eighteen? I met the headmaster’s children. Two boys and a girl. I wish I had a brother too.
Esmé Sidenote Esmé stopped writing on her journal for a few years, during her time in the Old Oaks Orphanage. Not that she had time. Esmé was constantly harassed by other students and even some faculty members due to her heritage and status as a bastard child of a mad woman. Franny Salinger died in Addams Asylum somewhere along the years that Esmé didn’t write. Esmé became a teenager without any parental figure whatsoever. Her friendship with Beatrice remained strong, despite Esmé’s resentment towards Beatrice and what she represented. That was, until one evening, going through her things, Esmé must have found her old diary. After reading her own lines as a child, Esmé decided to resume her diary as a way to cope with the everyday life at the Orphanage. She adopted a more blunt, harsh, mature style of writing that had come with her womanhood, which still blossomed, day after day. - T.S. September 23rd
I don’t even know why I am writing this. But I found this diary and thought I should update it. I haven’t written for years. The last time I wrote in here I was nine years old. My mom died a few years back. They still blame her for the fire. You know, if she did burn down the house with my dad and that shrew, Estelle, I don’t blame her one bit. My mom was the only sane person in this god forsaken town, and what do they do to her? They blame her with a fire and lock her away at Addams Asylum to rot. My mom died the same way that Agnes did. Electrocuted in the basement. How she got there is what everyone is wondering. I guess I should tell more about me. I was a little girl a few years ago. But not anymore. I’m tall now. I’m taller than Beatrice, taller than any girl in my class. They call me giantess at times. I wish I were a giantess. So I could crush this orphanage with my feet. I hate it here. I want out. But everyone seems determined to make me live here forever. If they try, I’ll go mad. I’ll go mad and I’ll go to Addams Asylum, to die like my mom did. At least I’ll be with her.
Esmé September 28th
Just got back from the infirmary. They threw a ROCK at me! It hit me in the head. I started to bleed, and soon I was seeing only red through the blood. I grabbed a fallen branch and beat them with it. One of them is now with a broken arm. Serves him well! Mr. Oakley the headmaster shmaster called me to his study and chewed and chewed on me until my ears were bleeding. Too bad for him, I wasn’t listening. I was thinking about my mother, and the names that those punks called her. She was none of those things! She was pure. Perfect. A saint, too good for this hateful town. I for one think she must be better off than anyone in Ophelia, where she is now. I don’t believe in Heaven. But if there’s one person who deserves Heaven, that’s my mom. Francesca. Maybe one day I’ll name my daughter Francesca, like they always do in my family, name one after a dead one. I talked about baby names with Beatrice the other day. She likes Violet, for a girl. A bit too simple, if you ask me. Francesca has more impact. Esmé, too. I like my name. It sets me apart from them.
Esmé September 30th
It’s almost October now. Soon it’ll be my birthday, and by extension, Halloween. When the stupid kids here learned of my birthday being on Halloween, they started calling me a witch. I ignored them. Well, until they started calling my mother a witch. Again, I grabbed a branch from the ground. Another session of chewing in Mr. Oakley’s office. This time it was worse, though. For one moment I thought he was about to lose it and hit me, or worse. I’m not a fool. I noticed how everyone looks at me. I catch the boys staring at me, and they will deny it to death if anyone asks. ‘No, I wasn’t staring at you, witch!’ They say. I have a mirror in my room. It was my mom’s, and the only thing I have left from her. It once reflected her beautiful face, but now it only shows me. Beatrice doesn’t know I keep this mirror. It’s my secret, and my mom’s. When I look into it, I can see her in these tiny details of my face. Luckily, I also have a portrait of her. I compared myself to her the other day, and I look quite a bit like her, except for my hair, which is dark. Hers was gold. Like wheat. She was beautiful, and I won’t let those punks call her a witch.
Esmé October 10th
I haven’t had much time to write lately. We have a new Drama teacher. A Mr. Al Funcoot. He’s very tall, and strangely, he has only one eyebrow. He came here, saying he was hunting for new talents. I subscribed for Drama class. Beatrice did so too, we do everything together, it was only natural. Of course, everyone seems to think she’s better than me at everything, even if I get higher scores in Math and Economics. They just ignore when I do well, and give me hell for doing bad. I’m bad at Cooking class. I can’t cook worth a damn. My mom could. She’d make the best latkes even though she wasn’t, you know. Jewish. She learned the recipe to please my father, and stopped eating pork for him. So many things she did for him, so little he did for her.
Esmé
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jan 22, 2011 14:28:28 GMT -5
Oh! How exciting it is to see this wonderful story back in progress again! It's lovely how the Salingers acknowledge everyone's heritage, with the celebrating of Christmas and the making of latkes. Esme giving her mom her doll for Christmas to keep her from getting lonely is such a beautiful sentiment. It's such a joy seeing how sweet and innocent Esme was as a little girl. *loves her* She hates Estelle. I like the idea of Esme wanting a brother (and, funnily enough, I actually made mention of this in a later scene of the story I wrote for you). Did she end up forming a friendship with Olive and her brothers, at all? The idea of Francesca being the one who burned down the Salinger mansion is a horrendous thought, though not one to be dismissed easily. I really admire Esme's fierce determination to protect her mother, not to mention it's a great way to develop her character from the canon. And Esme has just met Olaf Al Funcoot! Something tells me that things are about to get even more interesting, if not more troubling, here.
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Post by Dante on Jan 22, 2011 16:50:51 GMT -5
I genuinely can't believe this is only the second chapter. I could've sworn there was at least one more. Perhaps I'm mixing it up with a chapter in TOO... anyway, the change in style to an older, more bitter Esmé is very forceful, but she's very well-realised and believeable.
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Post by Hermes on Jan 22, 2011 17:38:31 GMT -5
Oo! Well, this tells us a lot about Esme and why she is what she is. it will be exciting to find out more.
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Post by Christmas Chief on Jan 22, 2011 17:40:16 GMT -5
You did a really good job transitioning from young to older Esmé. And I'm not sure why, but I found the "I grabbed a fallen branch and beat them with it." line amusing. Possibly because I can picture it so vividly.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jan 25, 2011 13:03:42 GMT -5
Chapter Three
Change October 20th
I’m thrilled! Mr. Funcoot told me I’m a great actress. I must be! After all, it’s Al Funcoot, an impresario, and a playwright who is telling me this. Beatrice isn’t bad either. Mr. Funcoot brought as a script of a play titled The World is Quiet Here. It is about an entire organization being divided and their members being spread out through the world, bitter and lonely. I personally think my performance was the best. Unlike those punks, I actually understand the character I’m playing. She is a lonely woman who was left by the man she loved for another woman. I know that all too well.
Esmé
October 21st
Mr. Oakley called me to his study. He said Al Funcoot had plans for me. He told me Mr. Funcoot works in a boarding school of sorts where Drama class is very important. Mr. Funcoot wants me and Beatrice to go with him to that school. I’m excited. Of course, if that doesn’t work well, I can always work at the Bank of Ophelia. I’m very good with finances and money. I like to think it’s because I’m meant to be something more than the punks I’m forced to live with, in this damn orphanage. The other day, I noticed they were all wearing these bands on their wrists. I found one, and I wore it, I don’t know why but I thought they were very stylish. I wonder where they came from? Doesn’t matter. As soon as they saw me wearing one, they threw theirs away. When I asked one of them about it, they said they didn’t want to be seen wearing the same things as me. I told him, ‘Well, that’s stupid, because we all wear uniforms here!’ and I went to the gazebo. I cried, I was so mad. I go there to cry. I won’t cry in front of others, specially those punks! Beatrice saw me and followed me there. She saw me crying. I was mad at her for it, I didn’t want to be seen. She hugged me against my will. ‘We’re sisters.’ She said. I told her, no, we’re not sisters, we’re half-sisters. ‘Nevertheless, sisters, Esmé.’ She said. She likes to use those big words, like ‘nevertheless’. I don’t want to say stuck-up, but she’s got this attitude to her that was beginning to irritate me. But then, she surprised me. She took out a knife from socks. She carved on the wood of the gazebo: ‘B and E. Friends Forever.’ I was surprises, and I smiled. ‘Haven’t seen you smile in a while. You have the prettiest smile, Esmé.’ I…didn’t know what to say.
Esmé
October 31st
It’s my birthday. The other idiots went trick-or-treating to Ophelia even though they are way too old for it. Seriously, half of those punks are way past twelve. I’m turning sixteen today. I always imagined my mom and my dad would be alive today. They always said they were going to throw me a giant party for my sixteenth birthday. Beatrice woke me up and she had a Halloween cupcake on her hands. It had a candle. She sung happy birthday to you while I merely stared at her. I didn’t know what to do. We’ve grown distant after these past few years, but she somehow has this way of doing nice things when I least expect. I don’t know how to feel. Part of me wants to hit her for everything Estelle put me through, but I know she is not Estelle. When Estelle would chew on me, Bea would come and hug me. She never treated bad because of my mom.
Esmé
November 6th
This is it. We’re leaving! Mr. Funcoot convinced us and Mr. Oakley that we should go to his drama school. Even though I got way better grades than Beatrice, she’s also coming. It seems as if we are going to stay together forever…
Esmé
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Post by Dante on Jan 25, 2011 13:19:52 GMT -5
Yes, dramatic irony like that is at the heart of a work like this. Esmé seems to have a strong sense of destiny, and Beatrice is such a sweet girl, too. This really complements the original series well in the way it makes us reinterpret existing events.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jan 25, 2011 13:41:20 GMT -5
I have to leave in a few minutes for an appointment I am JUST NOT PREPARED FOR (then again, is anyone ever prepared for appointments?). Anyway, I'm glad I saw this, and I intend to comment on everything I've read before I leave, even if the manner in which my comments are presented seem a bit rushed. This was such a lovely chapter, and I liked the reference to The Ominous Orphanage with the initial carvings in the tree. I had thought before reading The Esme Diaries that Esme had done them, but I like your version of how they came about. It's sad to know that the Salinger sisters have grown apart, though I suppose Esme is more aware of this than Beatrice, whose treatment of Esme does not appear to have changed at all. I also commend Esme for never once shunning Beatrice because of who her mother is. But perhaps that has much to do with Esme herself, and the way the Ophelians treat her because of who her own mother is. And Esme's and Beatrice's days of boarding school are approaching! Funny, how I would have absolutely hated to be sent away to one of those places as a child, yet I absolutely fall in love stories in which the setting is at a boarding school.
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Post by Christmas Chief on Jan 25, 2011 15:35:15 GMT -5
As the others have said, this ties in really well with YASOUE, and the charactization of Esmé is more curious than ever. Meanwhile, I'm beginning to get an idea of why Esmé didn't want the Baudelaires to read this (besides the obvious reasons that is).
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Feb 25, 2011 8:05:49 GMT -5
Chapter Four
Drifting November 8th
I have been to occupied to write, but I’m already at the Training School. Mr. Funcoot has been helping me and Beatrice adapt to the place. I’ve taken quite a liking to it. It’s near the city, but not too close that I could walk there. I’d love if it if we could go shopping in the city during weekends, but at the school, we have classes every day. The weekend classes are less complicated, but still… Beatrice and I were reunited with some boys and girls I’ve seen before. Before the fire, and before my mom died. There are the Snickets. Two boys and a girl, one of the boys having a terrible case of unibrow, like Mr. Funcoot. I don’t know why, but they all call Mr. Funcoot ‘Olaf’ around these parts.
Later that same day It turns out Mr. Funcoot was an alias, and that his name is actually Olaf. Count Olaf. If only I knew! He is nobility! Beatrice didn’t think too much of it, but I’d love to be a countess or a duchess someday. Also, about the other kids, there are the Squalors brothers, the Denouement triplets – three boys – and Elizabeth, a rather impetuous girl who is the best at Swordfighting class. I don’t know what kind of school this is, but normal schools don’t have swordfighting classes, do they? I asked Beatrice, she didn’t know. I told her to find out for me. I’m too busy to pick up books on other schools. Drama class and the Veiled Facial Disguise classes are taking up all my time. And that boy, Jerome Squalor, keeps staring at me during classes. I caught him several times! But there’s already a boy that I like here. I won’t say his name, Beatrice might read my journal and go tell him! It’s Bertrand.
Sidenote: Esmé angrily scribbled over the name of the boy she liked, but it was pretty easy to deduce.
November 10th
The term has started pretty late; I was told in normal schools the terms start in September, but V.F.D. school is different, of course. They taught us in V.F.D. History class that V.F.D. is acting all around the world, and that the organization has headquarters in every country, or at least, in some of them. Italy, Germany, Spain, France, Norway, and even China and Japan! I’d love to meet any volunteer from these countries. Count Olaf has requested that I work extra hard in Drama class for some reason. He says he has plans for me. I figure he’ll cast me in one of his plays as the female lead.
November 15th
I’ve been talking to Bertrand Baudelaire lately. He approached me after Secret Codes class and offered his help if I needed any. I said I didn’t, of course, but I told him I’d let him do my homework for me. I’ve been swamped with homework, and Drama class is really big lately. It’s getting intense. Sadly, I’m a disaster at the Machinery & Mechanics classes, and I asked for Bertrand’s help. He’s really handsome. Four years older than me, but he looks younger, I think. I asked Beatrice her opinion on him, but she only has eyes for that weirdo, Lemony Snicket. He’s the weird one out of the Snicket bunch, I’m sure. They go on for hours about poetry and such. Beatrice likes Elizabeth Bishop, he likes Edgar Allan Poe, whoever those two may be. I myself prefer the Economics Class over Literature. Other than the out-of-ordinary disciplines this is quite a normal school.
November 16th
I’m not in the best of moods. Today at the library, Beatrice was gathering everyone’s attention by being able to decipher a book using the Sebald Code. I still haven’t quite understood the code, but she is quickly developing. Professor Morse says she could be the very next Sebald. Can you imagine? Beatrice Sebald? Nah. But everyone was very impressed with her, and so was Bertrand. I continued to read the book Fashion Through the Ages: What is In and What Is Not Across Time by A. Wintour.
November 30th
Since I share my room with Beatrice in the girls’ wing of the dorms, I’ve been forced to coexist with Kit Snicket and Elizabeth Anwhistle. Kit is a bit of a know-it-all bookworm and Elizabeth is obsessed with pirates and ships. I mostly only ever talk to them out of politeness. I prefer to read the fashion magazines I was allowed to check out from the library in my free time. Drama class has been great. Bertrand has been very busy learning things from Professor Kornbluth. He has a knack for mechanical stuff. I guess he’ll make a good engineer or something. Engineers make loads of money, right? I should ask Beatrice about this…When Kit and Elizabeth leave our room.
December 12th
Winter is upon us! And with it, the first exams. I won’t be able to write much. Between drama class, studying for other classes, my fashion magazines and Bertrand I’ve hardly any time for anything but sleep!
December 24th
First Christmas away from Ophelia. I normally wouldn’t be expected to celebrate Christmas, but my mother did. My father would make us Christmas latkes and we’d eat them with whipped cream while drinking eggnog. Those days are long gone, but I guess the good memories linger. This school has a big Christmas banquet. After we all ate, we were stuffed and went up to the common room. It was decorated with mistletoes, red ribbons, and a large Christmas tree. I was on the couch with Bertrand when I noticed mistletoe hanging above us. Before I could do anything, he…He kissed me! I was so ashamed I didn’t know what to do. But then it was bedtime for everyone. What am I going to do next?This following few pages of the diary are missing. There is no register of what happened after the events of this particular Christmas' Eve.
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Post by Dante on Feb 25, 2011 8:28:54 GMT -5
I have been to occupied to write... But she managed eventually, and a good thing too. We are enjoying an excess of young Esmé at the moment, and I'm quite enjoying this presentation of life in a V.F.D. school for youngsters who aren't entirely clear on what's going on. And it's always interesting to see quite how the interests of the characters as children influenced them as adults. Also, some mischievous fellow has snuck into Tiago's printing press and given us a second Chapter Three.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Feb 25, 2011 8:32:05 GMT -5
I have been to occupied to write... But she managed eventually, and a good thing too. We are enjoying an excess of young Esmé at the moment, and I'm quite enjoying this presentation of life in a V.F.D. school for youngsters who aren't entirely clear on what's going on. And it's always interesting to see quite how the interests of the characters as children influenced them as adults. Also, some mischievous fellow has snuck into Tiago's printing press and given us a second Chapter Three. LOL Thanks for pointing it out, Dante. I fixed it. I'm glad you enjoyed Chapter Four.
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