Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Oh, wretched misfortunes

Today sees the long-awaited (by me!) release of the last book before the last book in a series of unfortunate events, The Penultimate Peril: Book the Twelfth, in which the further travails of the Baudelaire orphans are documented by Lemony Snicket.

From Chapter One:
"La forza del destino" is an Italian phrase meaning "the force of destiny," and "destiny" is a word that tends to cause arguments among the people who use it. Some people think destiny is something you cannot escape, such as death, or a cheesecake that has curdled, both of which always turn up sooner or later. Other people think destiny is a time in one's life, such as the moment one becomes an adult, or the instant it becomes necessary to construct a hiding place out of sofa cushions. And still other people think that destiny is an invisible force, like gravity, or a fear of paper cuts, that guides everyone throughout their lives, whether they are embarking on a mysterious errand, doing a treacherous deed, or deciding that a book they have begun reading is too dreadful to finish. In the opera La Forza del Destino, various characters argue, fall in love, get married in secret, run away to monasteries, go to war, announce that they will get revenge, engage in duels, and drop a gun on the floor, where it goes off accidentally and kills someone in an incident eerily similar to one that happens in chapter nine of this very book, and all the while they are trying to figure out if any of these troubles are the result of destiny. They wonder and wonder at all the perils in their lives, and when the final curtain is brought down even the audience cannot be sure what all these unfortunate events may mean.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Having only recently read the first of Lemony Snicket's books, which had me smiling - if not laughing with delight - at his writing skill while lamenting the young Baudelaires' plight(s), I still have ten more volumes to enjoy before I arrive at this penultimate one. I'm please to see that M. Snicket's penchant for running on and on - and so very beautifully - has not diminished.

Do you have your own copy yet?

Isabella K said...

Alas, I am not allowing myself any book acquisitions until after I've finished reading Don Quixote, the completion of which, in about a week's time I figure, will merit some celebratory gift.

The series got me through the latter, uncomfortable stage of pregnancy — delighting in the misery of others.