Matters Of Snicket — Part 1

For today’s book review, allow me to point you in the direction of one of the strangest authors of our time; that is, Mr. Lemony Snicket.

Lemony Snicket was born into a secret organization of peoples who call themselves V.F.D. He devoted much of his life to researching and telling the tale of a some orphan children by the surname of Baudelaire.

However, we’re not here to speak of them—or not this time, at least. We’re here to speak about the first book in a series of autobiographies by Lemony Snicket. The series is called All the Wrong Questions, and the book is titled “Who Could That Be At This Hour?” Shall we begin?

Warning: Spoilers May Follow

At the beginning of the book, Lemony Snicket is attempting to embark on a quest with his sister to uncover an untold secret. Unfortunately, his plans are thwarted when his mentor says they’re going to a small town a long ways from the city he was supposed to be in, or any city for that matter. The town was called Stain’d by the Sea.

Stain’d by the Sea used to be a seaside town that made a living off selling octopus ink, but when the octopus population dropped, they drained the sea so that they could more easily reach the few remaining octopuses. Now the town is dying and the octopuses are nearly extinct.

Snicket is caught up in crime that his ignorant mentor is trying to solve. A small statue of a mythical creature—known throughout the town as the Bombinating Beast—was supposedly stolen from their client. However, there is evidence to suggest that it was never stolen at all, but the client was trying to get them to steal it for her. It’s an odd mystery indeed.

Snicket makes various new associates throughout the story, including a reporter named Moxie Mallahan, an unusual librarian named Dashiell Qwerty, two small brothers known as Pip and Squeak who drive a cab, and a very mysterious and secretive girl called Ellington Feint.

There was a town, and there was a girl, and there was a theft. I was living in the town, and I was hired to investigate the theft, and I thought the girl had nothing to do with it. I was almost thirteen and I was wrong. I was wrong about all of it. I should have asked the question “Why would someone say something was stolen when it was never theirs to begin with?” Instead I asked the wrong question—four wrong questions, more or less. This is the account of the first.

All the Wrong Questions: Who Could That Be at This hour?

This is an intriguing mystery tale geared mostly for junior-high children, but it could be quite enjoyable anyone above this age as well. Just be warned: If you prefer happy endings, then Lemony Snicket is not the author for you.

Ever onward,

Jacob Unger.

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