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jshelton's review against another edition
5.0
My favourite series as a kid and one that everyone should read!
joshperna's review against another edition
3.0
After realizing I had lost interest halfway through the series some eight years ago, I picked up A Series of Unfortunate Events in an attempt to answer some questions I've always had about the books and to enjoy a quick read. I later came to realize the thirteen book series is over 500,000 words long, and my attempt to finish them was slightly more arduous than I assumed it would be.
This series has so many redeemable qualities and an equal amount of inherent issues. The first books pose themselves as a formulaic children's story, yet by the end of the series the books become post-modern metafiction, abandoning any attempt at a cohesive story to become an aburdist allegory. The books find their one, true strength in their narration; Daniel Handler's prose, which is told through the character of Lemon Snicket (a character in the book's universe), is slippery and dynamic, playful and incredibly well composed. The universe he creates is riddled with nods to the audience, references to great literature and its authors, and a constant glamorization of those who read. The baby, who is supposed to be uttering gibberish, actually speaks in Italian and Hebrew, shouting references to books and movies. Some of the symbolism is poignant and eerie, some a bit too on the nose.
But the story itself is bloated at best: what was achieved in thirteen freaking books could've easily been achieved with more concision and interest in a set half that size. It's quite apparent that Handler set out to write one type of story, got a pretty solid idea of a different kind of story halfway through, and altogether abandoned those intentions by the end of the thirteen books. The first 8 or so books are nauseatingly repetitive, virtually recycling the same exact formula of characters and plot over and over again. The books pick up by the last three, but who in the world would suggest a series that "is pretty rough for the first ten books, but certainly hits its stride by the eleventh"?
After the mind-numbing repetition subsides (with its frustratingly unidimensional characters, the type that only exist in their world to stand as a flimsy moral lesson), the books begin to sow seeds of genuine interest: the books evolve from the simple misfortune of a couple of orphans to a vast tale of mystery and intrigue. So many questions are posed about a secret organization, the true identities of a huge array of characters, what exactly different objects mean, and etcetera. Book and after book hypes up the intrigue as the characters nearly find the truth just as Handler painfully and unnecessarily uses Deus Ex Machina to tear away the person who can explain what the hell is actually going on.
And by the last book, Handler takes that massive ball of mystery and enigma and throws it out. Under the guise of post-modern bizarreness, Handler basically abandons the massive conglomeration of unanswered questions-- the entire purpose of the twelve books before it-- and leaves the reader with a sense of hollow confusion about the story ("just like the real world" mutters some fourteen year old who is far too smart to live with his parents.) The reader, who has grown attached to several characters whose fates he will never know, who has stayed around the last 6 books to see what is inside that stupid sugar bowl that people have been killing themselves over, who wonders if justice will ever be served, is left with a giant, nihilistic middle finger pointed at them by Handler.
In the end, the series as a whole is much better than any of its individual installments. The last three books posed wonderful points about the ambiguity of morality and the absurdity of life. As children's books, each individual novel even serves as a great moral lesson all the while teaching its readers hundreds of solid vocabulary words and literary references. Ending its gargantuan story with eerie imagery that calls back to the Garden of Eden itself, the series left me mourning not for a story about unlucky orphans, but for what honestly could have been accomplished with this series that never will be.
This series has so many redeemable qualities and an equal amount of inherent issues. The first books pose themselves as a formulaic children's story, yet by the end of the series the books become post-modern metafiction, abandoning any attempt at a cohesive story to become an aburdist allegory. The books find their one, true strength in their narration; Daniel Handler's prose, which is told through the character of Lemon Snicket (a character in the book's universe), is slippery and dynamic, playful and incredibly well composed. The universe he creates is riddled with nods to the audience, references to great literature and its authors, and a constant glamorization of those who read. The baby, who is supposed to be uttering gibberish, actually speaks in Italian and Hebrew, shouting references to books and movies. Some of the symbolism is poignant and eerie, some a bit too on the nose.
But the story itself is bloated at best: what was achieved in thirteen freaking books could've easily been achieved with more concision and interest in a set half that size. It's quite apparent that Handler set out to write one type of story, got a pretty solid idea of a different kind of story halfway through, and altogether abandoned those intentions by the end of the thirteen books. The first 8 or so books are nauseatingly repetitive, virtually recycling the same exact formula of characters and plot over and over again. The books pick up by the last three, but who in the world would suggest a series that "is pretty rough for the first ten books, but certainly hits its stride by the eleventh"?
After the mind-numbing repetition subsides (with its frustratingly unidimensional characters, the type that only exist in their world to stand as a flimsy moral lesson), the books begin to sow seeds of genuine interest: the books evolve from the simple misfortune of a couple of orphans to a vast tale of mystery and intrigue. So many questions are posed about a secret organization, the true identities of a huge array of characters, what exactly different objects mean, and etcetera. Book and after book hypes up the intrigue as the characters nearly find the truth just as Handler painfully and unnecessarily uses Deus Ex Machina to tear away the person who can explain what the hell is actually going on.
And by the last book, Handler takes that massive ball of mystery and enigma and throws it out. Under the guise of post-modern bizarreness, Handler basically abandons the massive conglomeration of unanswered questions-- the entire purpose of the twelve books before it-- and leaves the reader with a sense of hollow confusion about the story ("just like the real world" mutters some fourteen year old who is far too smart to live with his parents.) The reader, who has grown attached to several characters whose fates he will never know, who has stayed around the last 6 books to see what is inside that stupid sugar bowl that people have been killing themselves over, who wonders if justice will ever be served, is left with a giant, nihilistic middle finger pointed at them by Handler.
In the end, the series as a whole is much better than any of its individual installments. The last three books posed wonderful points about the ambiguity of morality and the absurdity of life. As children's books, each individual novel even serves as a great moral lesson all the while teaching its readers hundreds of solid vocabulary words and literary references. Ending its gargantuan story with eerie imagery that calls back to the Garden of Eden itself, the series left me mourning not for a story about unlucky orphans, but for what honestly could have been accomplished with this series that never will be.
loufillari's review against another edition
4.0
These books are addicting. I love the style of its writing, with the constant defining of words, erroneous and otherwise. There's other stuff too. Four stars worth of stuff.
And everything is connected. I'm sure when Mr. Snicket began writing the series that he never intended to implement virtually everybody into the grand storyline but he did. It's so cool.
Book 13 is five stars. But I didn't read it individually. I read them all as one novel. Because they are. Longest novel I've ever read at 3387 pages.
And everything is connected. I'm sure when Mr. Snicket began writing the series that he never intended to implement virtually everybody into the grand storyline but he did. It's so cool.
Book 13 is five stars. But I didn't read it individually. I read them all as one novel. Because they are. Longest novel I've ever read at 3387 pages.
cosbrarian's review
3.0
I found the first three books to be annoyingly repetitive, but the fourth had some nice changes to it. The characters are fun, but it gets tiring of dealing with so many shitty adults who keep ignoring the kids.
debs's review
5.0
The intertexual references dotted throughout the text are brilliant! Dark comedy at its best.
gflood129's review
3.0
Wasn't my favorite of the series. A lot of the plot didn't make too much sense, but overall I love this whole series and don't want to miss a single book. Plus it's a quick read as always.
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