Still Undead After All These Years

When I was a teenager, I was really into vampires-- Anne Rice novels, Poppy Z. Brite's Lost Souls, VHS copies of Dark Shadows, etc. I even once wrote a story for my freshman history class about an immortal waif "contemplating her contemplation." We were studying the Romantics. And you can stop laughing now.

Then I got over it.

It wasn't until a year or two ago that I rekindled my love of the undead. I started watching Trinity Blood and the "Never Land" episode gave me the creeps, so I kept watching it (and started reading the light novels too). Then I got hooked on Blood Plus (and, of course, the original Blood), which I absolutely adore. Seriously, if I had time, I would probably write Saya and Haji fan fiction.

And then someone suggested that I read Twilight, so I am. Through that I found out about a whole slew of YA vampire titles (both actual books and manga), which I am now in the process of acquiring and reading. In some roundabout way, this all leads up to me dragging Carlos to Huntington Beach so that we could go to a Barnes & Nobel in the middle of one of those non-mall malls for the Pitch Black Book Tour. The tour featured Nancy A. Collins (Vamps), Claudia Gray (Evernight) and Ellen Schreiber (Vampire Kisses).

About five minutes into the event, I realized that the audience for vampire fiction is pretty much the same as it was back when I was geeking out over Lost Souls.  

Most of the crowd was under 18 and female. In fact, the only boys I saw looked like they didn't particularly want to be there. The girls traveled in small teams and more or less looked the same. It was, primarily, a sea of black-- black sweatshirts, black tattered skirts, black shoes with shiny silver buckles. Their hair was either dyed black/something Manic Panic or was left its unfortunately natural shade of mouse brown and their lips were painted a dark, scabby shade of red that I'm almost certain was the same Revlon Blackberry lipstick that was the coolest thing ever in 1992. Within every mini-pack, there is one normal, you know, the friend that's been around for so long that everyone overlooks the fact that she wears neutral colors. Either some things never change or there's a serious '90s revival heading our way.

A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket

When I was a child, I learned a thing or two from reading the works of Roald Dahl. The most important of these lessons is that adults are, more often than not, either evil or oblivious and, to co-opt Lemony Snicket's writing style, by oblivious I mean "lacking conscious awareness; unmindful."

As an adult, I have only received mountains of proof substantiating the notion that adults are either evil or oblivious. All you need to do is watch the news or enter the workforce and you too will realize the same. So it is through this lens of animosity towards grown ups (hey, just become I am one doesn't mean I have to think like one) that I read the first installment of Lemony Snicket's 13-part serial A Series of Unfortunate Events.

Snicket, or his alter ego, seems mighty influenced by Dahl and Edward Gorey. Like the former, most of the adults in the book are worthless. Those who aren't are either dead or somehow taken away from the Baudelaire children. Like the later, bad things keep on happening to our protagonists.

The three Baudelaire children-- Violet, Klaus and Sunny-- live a rather charmed life with parents who love and respect them. Upon an unsupervised excursion to the beach, a fire consumes the Baudelaire home and kills the parents. The three children are taken into the temporary care of Mr. Poe (who has a son named Edgar, by the way) until a relative can be located. After some time, the children are pawned off on Count Olaf, a horrid actor with a title and no money. From the beginning, it is obvious that he has only taken in the children because of the vast fortune they are set to acquire. When he learns that the inheritance will be withheld until Violet is of age, he punishes the children repeatedly. We will stop there, lest I give away the end of this first book.

Aside from a page-turner plot, what works in the book's favor is the language. Snicket uses large grown-up words with the context of child-sized sentences. He defines the words without being condescending and goes on to explain many of the legal concepts that are used throughout the story. The characters are also intriguing. The adults in the story often appear as grotesque figures that make just enough sense to keep the storyline plausible. And, in the grand tradition of children's literature, the Baudelaire orphans are quick-witted and strong-willed.

I found this book as part of a three series boxed set at a thrift store by my house. Each book is small and hard covered, designed to look like a Victorian tome and filled with beautiful illustrations. Now, I can't wait to get started on volume two.