Friday, August 27, 2021

The Reptile Room

 Mild Spoilers for this book to follow!


"Do you know what sort of scientist he is?" she asked.

... "I'm afraid not," Mr. Poe admitted. I've been very busy making the arrangements for you three, and I didn't have much time for chit-chat."

Oh man, ow ow OW. The above made me think this book would stay with the true but familiar "Adults are stupid" trope, which Mr. Snicket likes to talk about. He's right, of course, and I don't think it's talked about enough. But I wasn't really going to write another review. Or rant. Or whatever the hell these are. They're probably exorcisms, at this point, knowing my luck. 

 But when Uncle Monty dies, the children realized that their last conversation with him was awful. They'd just figured out that Count Olaf  had snuck his way into Uncle Monty's house as "Stephano", and they were so distraught that they didn't really talk to Uncle Monty the rest of the day. Uncle Monty, the one who loved them fiercely and was utterly clueless as to the danger! And the children couldn't say anything to Uncle Monty, out of fear of dying themselves.

They wake up in the morning to find Uncle Monty dead.

And in that sickening moment they realize they had a moment to just be with Uncle Monty, and wasted it.

For those of you who have not experienced such a moment, you will be tempted to tell the Baudelaires they're being too hard on themselves. They couldn't help it.

Congrats, you just condescendingly described what the three children were experiencing. To blame themselves is not the point. To realize that they lost something before they even knew they lost it?

That is. The Point.

The rest of the text continues to subvert the Baudelaire's expectations. They're now aware they have a narrative, however dimly, and so they are trying to step outside of their own trance, to think, an act that is herculean, even on a good day. The Baudelaires don't have good days, do they? Oh wait, they did.

With Uncle Monty.

It is amazing to me, just how much the narrative twists around pushing the Baudelaires into doubting everything but one thing: Count Olaf. He's clearly got a lot of... trouble... in his soul, and who the hell sneezes into curtains except if you're crying so freaking hard that you need something, anything, wipe your nose? It's an odd thing to mention. It's very, very, very specific.

But the the thing that takes that cake for me is the end of the book. The Baudelaires actually get to say good-bye to someone. Yes, The Incredibly Deadly Viper counts. I didn't expect this. The Baudelaires realize they have a chance to say good-bye and move heaven and earth to get it done. They break out of the narrative they are powerless orphans and choose to do what genuinely matters.

Folks, that is actually a good ending. At least in my books. Funny how death is one of the few things to do this to us, by and large.

"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair then there actually is. Your foot falls down, through the air and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things."

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