A Year of Unfortunate Events — Part the Fourth: A Series of Unfortunate Events and the Kingdom of the Crystal Beatrice

So, it's month four of A Year of Unfortunate Events, we're nearly a third of the way through. I suppose I ought to have come up with a potboiler intro for this feature by now.

Ooh, like some Lemony Snicket-esque, "If you want to read about children's books with happy endings then look elsewhere" type of thing?

Yeah, something like that, but wouldn't that be a pastiche of a pastiche?

Hmm, good point. So is this intro you're writing now going anywhere?

I guess not. You know the drill by now, I'm re-reading A Series of Unfortunate Events, there's gonna be SPOILERS.

Book The Fourth - The Miserable Mill

What did you remember about this book before re-reading it?

Well! Uh. . . Mr. Poe sends the Baudelaires to live at a lumber mill, because. . . uuuuhhhhh. . . because that's what happens in the fourth book. And then, the guy in charge of the mill is always hidden in a cloud of cigar smoke, and Count Olaf is disguised as woman who is . . . an executive assistant? Pretty sure there's the ol' Snidely Whiplash sawmill situation going on somewhere in there. You know how is with books you read more than fifteen years ago.

Hmm. Indeed. Well, now that you've read it again, how does the actual book compare to your memory?

All of the things I remembered were more or less correct. We begin with our intrepid protagonists, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire en route to Paltryville, where Mr. Poe has arranged for them to live at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill. But things get off to a poor start when the children are spooked by an eye-shaped building which bears a striking resemblance to the eye tattooed on Count Olaf's ankle.

Uh-oh.

An inaspicious start, indeed. In any case, the Baudelaires arrive at the mill to find a note from their new guardian which directs them to the dormitory where the mill workers live. And the next morning, the be-wigged, surgical-mask-wearing Foreman Flacutono wakes everyone up and puts the children to work.

Wait, what? Children shouldn't be working in a lumber mill, what if they cause an industrial accident? Also, is this Flacutono a transparently disguised Count Olaf?

No, he is not.

Is he one of Count Olaf's accomplices?

No comment. After work, the Baudelaires are summoned to the office of their guardian, a cigar-smoking man known only as, "Sir," who pays his workers in coupons, bosses his business partner around, and definitely 100% expects the children to work in a lumber mill until Violet comes of age (and can then access their inheritance) in exchange for keeping them safe from Count Olaf. Sir's partner, Charles, is kindly, but too milquetoast to stand up to Sir regarding the children's treatment. But he is willing to let the children visit the mill's library any time they want.

You know, all these details are starting to strain credulity, even for this series, and we're only four books in.

Hold on to your socks, Hypothetical Reader, we'll talk about that later. Back to the library, turns out that Charles splurged on bookcases and comfy couches so it only contains three books, the city constitution, a volume on optometry, and a history of the mill itself. After several days of working in the mill, Flacutono trips Klaus, breaking his glasses and forcing him to visit the optometrist, who just happens to operate out of that eye-shaped building from before. When he returns several hours later, Klaus is dazed and highly suggestible, a state which persists until he causes an industrial accident, breaking one of the mill worker's legs.

I told you so.

Yes you did, in any case, Flacutono trips Klaus once again, so Sunny and Violet take him back to the office of Dr. Georgina Orwell, who takes Sunny and Violet to the waiting room while she examines Klaus ag—

Wouldn't she already have his perscription?

I'm sorry.

She just examined him the day before, she'd know what sort of lenses he needs.

In any case, in the waiting room the Baudelaire sisters encounter Shirley, who is, you guessed it, Count Olaf in a transparent disguise. Turns out that he's convinced Dr. Orwell to help him, and when Violet and Sunny escort the dazed and highly suggestible Klaus back to the dorm they find a memo from Sir indicating that if they cause any more accidents, they'll be adopted by Shirley. So they go to confront Sir, leaving Klaus unattended in—and I cannot stress this enough—a dazed and highly suggestible state. Sir obviously doesn't believe that Shirley is Count Olaf, so Violet and Sunny, remembering that there's a book on optometry in the library, study up on hypnotism.

That's not a sub-discipline of optometry.

In any case, they realize that they only have to find the right word to break Klaus's hypnotism, and it's a good thing to because they find Klaus in the mill being commanded to slice Charles, who is strapped to a log, into boards by Flacutono. Shirley and Dr. Orwell show up, revealing that she'd struck a deal for a cut of the Baudelaire fortune. In a reversal of their usual roles, Violet uses the fruits of her research to break Klaus's hypnotism and Klaus invents a device to free Charles from the Sawmill. This shocks Dr. Orwell into stepping backwards into the saw blade.

That's pretty grisly.

Yeah, it is. Anyway, Mr. Poe shows up, and Sir insists on sending the Baudelaires off to a boarding school. Meanwhile, Shirley reveals that she is, in fact, Count Olaf, and Flacutono reveals that he is, in fact, the long-nosed bald man and both make good their escape.

Did this series just jump the shark?

You mean because of the wildly unbelievable plot elements?

Yes, because of those.

I will admit that the series has always strained credulity in its handling of science and the law and child endangerment. However, this book definitely ratcheted these factors up quite a bit. And in a way that took me out of the story. For example, sure, Sunny's strong, sharp teeth are a comedic exaggeration, but in this book she literally uses them for sword fighting.

That actually sounds kind of awesome, or funny. Hmm. I can see how this might cause tone problems.

And then there's the whole hypnotism thing, which comes out of left field. I mean, sure it's kind of a trope in genre fiction, but it just didn't work for me here. It's as if Snicket were aiming for absurdity, but overshot and landed on wackiness.

Are you suggesting that there's some sort of absurdity–wackiness spectrum?

Look, all I know is that on the whole, this book was weaker than the last three. It's like the store brand version of the series.

But is it still funny and allusive?

Oh, certainly. And it hasn't derailed my interest in the project. So, anyway, like I said, so far this is a weak link the series. Hopefully, things get better for the Baudelaire's at The Austere Academy.

Can't get no worse!

Links:

Here check out the Gothic Archies' song inspired by this book, "Dreary, Dreary." It's one of my favorites.

I keep telling you, Daniel Handler and Lemony Snicket are the same person. Have you ever seen them together?

That doesn't prove anything. You and I have never been seen together but we're not the same person . . . are we?

We're definitely not opening that can of worms!

So you agree that I'm right?

You're the worst, Lucas.

Right backatcha!