"The End" is fearsomely fantastic

Dear Reader,

You have undoubtedly arrived at this page with the intention of reading a review, a word which here means a "warning begging you to tread with caution," of Lemony Snicket's new novel, "The End." If that is the case, I sincerely hope that for the sake of your own well being, you cease your pursuit of such grim information. Your time would be much better spent perusing the charming Humor section of this website, as you will find none here. But, should you choose to remain, I cannot deter you. It is my solemn duty as a journalist to inform, and I shall therefore go about this as best I can and claim no responsibility for the head-smashing which will inevitably accompany your reading of this review.

If you are familiar with Snicket's work, you will accurately predict that the final volume continues the saga of Violet, Klaus and Sunny, the hapless Baudelaire children. Thrust into a series of unpleasant events after losing their parents and home to a deadly fire, the children finally experience resolution in this novel, but not before one last adventure. This time, the resourceful young siblings find themselves washed upon the shores of a mysterious island, still evading the clutches of the nefarious Count Olaf, who remains ever obsessed with getting hold of their enormous inheritance. As they struggle to cope with their strange new circumstances, the Baudelaires uncover the secrets of their parents' mysterious pasts and make startling revelations in the process.

While the novel does not answer all of the questions and solve all of the mysteries posed by the previous books, it does provide a satisfying conclusion. As Snicket says, it is impossible to find satisfactory answers to life's every question, and as such, the Baudelaires contend themselves with what they do discover. Besides, most of the time, it scarcely matters: reading the novel itself is half the fun, as Snicket's storyline has a curious appeal because it manages to be deeply hilarious and deeply disturbing at the same time. With his remarkably sharp eye for irony and intrigue, Snicket's perverse charm comes from his utter refusal to sugarcoat the Baudelaire's agonizing tale.

Snicket has achieved something truly unusual with "The End." Lurking beneath a veneer of cartoonish melancholy is an unexpectedly philosophical, mature work which will resonate with adults and teens more than the apparent target audience of the series. "The End" is rich with literary allusions and clever wordplay, aspects which will be appreciated by older readers while its dark, brooding quality makes it a refreshing change from the sugary offerings of other children's books. But indisputably, the greatest strength of the novel is its ironic feasibility. While we laugh nervously at Snicket's apparent exaggeration of the terrible scrapes the Baudelaires find themselves in, we realize he is showing us nothing more than the wicked ways of our own world.

If you are the type of person who prefers going on picnics armed with baskets of enormous pink-frosted cupcakes or playing with prancing ponies, I would recommend steering clear of this particular book. But if the thought of enormous pink-frosted cupcakes makes you writhe, and if the notion of prancing ponies makes you long to be trampled beneath their appallingly cheerful feet, this book just might be your cup of tea (or hemlock).

Snicket's final installment provides a dark, thought-provoking conclusion to a truly unique series. You might find it fascinating, you might find it offensive or you might be somewhere in between. But regardless of what you choose, it is necessary to delve deeper to take notice of Snicket's "imaginary" world, which is as terrifying and unpredictable as the one in which we live — it would truly be a shame if you finished the Baudelaire's Series of Unfortunate Events only to begin your own.

With all due respect,
The author