Adults should read A Series of Unfortunate Events
Smrithi Ravindra writes.
If you’re anything like me, you might remember frequenting the secluded aisles at the school library: the roughness of the carpet and harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting going unnoticed while you lose yourself in worlds of fantasy and dark academia. You’re mesmerised by pages that recount stories about growing up, secret societies, and unfathomable mysteries. You have long conversations about book theories and plotlines, pretend to take detailed notes of clandestine meetings and send handwritten letters to your friends. This winter, an underrated children's series allowed me to revisit such halcyon days. That series is A Series of Unfortunate Events.
Written by Lemony Snicket (nom de plume), the thirteen-book series chronicles the lives of three siblings: Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire. After a mysterious fire burns down their home, the children find themselves orphaned and placed under the care of a wicked man named Count Olaf. As the tale progresses, Olaf disguises himself in ludicrous outfits and commits several crimes (including but not limited to arson, kidnapping, and murder) with the intention of stealing the enormous Baudelaire fortune. The children must escape from his treachery while uncovering the mysteries of V.F.D, a secret organisation that connects the world around them.
These books take the adult reader into a world of innocent wonder. By relating back to the children’s perspectives, you’re able to relive a simpler past. Snicket’s clever writing style is also noteworthy. It reveals itself in the form of word plays, anagrams, and secret clues to crack. Other times, they are delightful literary references to look for. For instance, Mr. Poe, a banker in charge of the Baudelaire orphan’s affairs, has two sons: Edgar and Allen. These whimsical elements (e.g., characters being named after types of fish) are sharply contrasted with realistic subtexts. Vivid imagery is combined with dark humour and gothic themes, pushing the plot forward seamlessly.
Reading this series as an adult allows you to appreciate its hidden depth. It handles mature themes, such as moral relativity and intergenerational trauma, elegantly. It’s clear that Count Olaf’s childhood is similar to that of the Baudelaire siblings when he recites the poem This Be the Verse by Phillip Larkin. In contrast, other seemingly ‘nice’ adults are often ignorant of the children’s trauma and demonstrate a lack of sensitivity towards them. Further social commentaries about institutional care and children’s views being undervalued make you sympathetic to the main character’s misfortunes. The books give you an opportunity to reflect on these topics or, at the very least, to simply acknowledge the hardships that children face.
Hence, I undoubtedly believe that this series would make a gripping addition in your summer reading list. Perhaps for nostalgia’s sake if like me, you want to revisit the series after reading it during your childhood. If not, then maybe as a lover of literature and dark academia, suspense, and storytelling.
P.S. Don’t get me started on that one letter from Lemony to Beatrice (if you know, you know)!