When I read the letter from Lemony Snicket to his editor at the conclusion of The Austere Academy,
it occurred to me that living in a penthouse is hardly the most
unfortunate event I could contemplate. To be honest, I would not
particularly want to live in one myself, as I dislike the idea of living
in a building with so many other people and of not having a yard.
Nonetheless, given the choice between a rickety shack filled with crabs,
a lumber mill and a house teetering on the edge of a cliff, I highly
suspect I would take the penthouse. But Snicket has no trouble
whatsoever in milking misfortune out of these seemingly cushy
surroundings.
Comfortingly, the Baudelaire orphans find
themselves once more in their hometown, just blocks away from their old
mansion. It’s pleasant for them to be back among familiar sights, even
if they’re usually viewing them from the top floor of an extremely tall
building. When they arrive, the atmosphere of their new home at 667 Dark
Avenue matches the name, and they are forced to walk up the staircase
past an indeterminate number of floors in near blackness after the
doorman explains that both light and elevators are unfashionable at the
moment. They are about to learn that fashion is of great importance to
one of their guardians, the shockingly petty and self-absorbed Esme
Squalor. Her whole life revolves around what is “in” and “out,” and
nothing gives her greater delight than to receive a tip about something
being in and send her hen-pecked husband Jerome off to acquire it.
Jerome Squalor is a man of boundless good will and patience, and one
wonder how such a thoroughly decent chap ever got hooked up with such a
shallow fiend. Unfortunately, Jerome as lily-livered as Charles, the
co-owner of the lumber mill where the orphans worked in The Miserable Mill.
He would be a most suitable guardian indeed if only he weren’t so
unwilling to argue. Though the Baudelaires eventually come to a parting
of the ways with Jerome, as always happens in some way or another with
the Baudelaire guardians, I wonder whether he might pop up again. He
clearly was very closely associated with the mother of Violet, Klaus and
Sunny, though most of his recollections in this book are cut short by
his nagging wife. Esme, meanwhile, makes intriguing mention of Beatrice,
which I’m pretty sure is the first reference thus far to the author’s
lost love in the presence of the orphans, suggesting that the two
storylines will become more deeply intertwined.
Staying in the
Squalor penthouse is a curious experience for the children. Their rooms
are quite comfortable in spite of the fact that, rather than the items
Jerome planned to purchase based on the children’s interests, they are
given oversized pinstripe suits, leaving Violet a tool bench with no
tools, Klaus a library with nothing but books listing in items over the
years, and Sunny an assortment of stuffed animals entirely too soft for
her to sink her teeth into. They have a glorious view of the city, and
Jerome is perfectly happy to take them on excursions to their favorite
places. But Esme is dismissive of them and subjects them to unpleasant
food just because it’s the in thing. Don McLean has a song in which he
declares, “I hate fashion; I hate it with a passion.” I’m sure the
orphans must feel the same way. Additionally, the elevator remains
unfashionable, so the children are forced to make the excruciating climb
up and down the stairs day after day. Most of all, however, the orphans
have Count Olaf to worry about, especially when he shows up in the
guise of Gunther, the auctioneer of the upcoming In Auction, which
benefits Esme’s already substantial bank account. They have twice the
reason to worry now because they know their friends Duncan and Isadora
are in his clutches. In fact, this book presents them with several
opportunities to escape their dire circumstances, but they cannot in
good conscience follow through because they are the only hope for their
beleaguered comrades.
Snicket is rather obsessed with
imparting lessons in vocabulary, and I confess I was stymied as to the
meaning of the word “ersatz.” Several chapters in, I could contain my
curiosity no longer, and I investigated the word to discover its
meaning. As it turns out, “ersatz” means none of the things I thought it
might, but learning the definition gave me early insight into a major
plot twist. Therefore, I would suggest refraining from peeking as I did.
Rather, have patience and wait until Snicket reveals, in his own good
time, the meaning of the word. (If you just can’t stand the suspense,
check out page 129.)
As is his wont, Snicket manages to inject
a most harrowing situation with healthy doses of humor. Oddly enough,
probably my single favorite line in the book occurs, just as in The Wide Window,
in a restaurant. “There is nothing particularly wrong with salmon, of
course, but like caramel candy, strawberry yogurt, and liquid carpet
cleaner, if you eat too much of it you are not going to enjoy your
meal.” In addition to fashion, anxiety, and uncertainty, another
recurring theme in this book is darkness, and Snicket finds all sorts of
interesting ways to depict it. For instance: “It was darker than a
pitch-black panther, covered in tar, eating black licorice at the very
bottom of the deepest part of the black sea.” His most effective
demonstration of darkness, however, is considerably less verbose.
The Ersatz Elevator
is the most complex volume in the series thus far, dangling tantalizing
threads of story in front of readers before yanking them away. We are
left with very few answers but many more questions as we depart from yet
another hyperbolic manifestation of the author’s sense of reality.
(Incidentally, I would gather that Snicket hasn’t much time for fashion,
as he takes care to wholly expose its ludicrous nature in this book.)
There can be little doubt that the Baudelaires will encounter some of
these characters again, and unquestionably they face a future
rendez-vous with one of them, though he will not look or sound quite the
same at that later date. Will the calamitous misfortunes of this
upstanding trio ever end? As devoted readers, do we actually want them
to?
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