A review by royaz92
The Basic Eight by Daniel Handler
4.0
Daniel Handler, Lemony Snicket, whoever you are: I'm warning you; I'll probably beat you to death someday. Or strangle you. Or something. I might be kidding, I might be not.
So right now, I'm a bit nauseated and by a bit I mean a lot. I'm also a bit confused and again, a bit equals a lot. What was that all about?
It was fun, at first. No, not fun, it was hilarious. It was my favorite piece of writing, ever. I had to memorize a myriad of sentences (Ha.)for further usage. But at a certain point, it got a bit gloomy (Remember the equation of a bit and a lot? Yeah, that.)and it was a gloomy kind of funny. And it was OK. But it didn't stop there. It went on, an on, and on. It reached the point when it wasn't just gloomy; it was a scary-gloomy kind of funny. Do you think that was the end? If yes, then you're wrong. Because it wan't. It was only the beginning - the last pages were mind/stomach-blowing, real life scary, you had to keep vomiting (mentally, of course. And in my case, really, as well. I was sick. Not from reading the book, although it probably had its fair share of contribution to my sickening/stomach turning/ rotten food projecting out of my mouth process.) Anyway, I'm totally nauseated and I'm not sure if it's the book, or the life.
Funnily enough, and surprisingly (not) enough, this book doesn't pass the Bechdel Test. Which I'm not sure applies to the books as well as the movies but what the hell. In case you don't know, it's basically a test examining whether a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. Yeah, a Man. The female characters outnumber the male ones in this book, but still, it doesn't pass the test. Which is a little (a lot) annoying.
It reminded me of Robert Cormier's books: People are savages, and savages are people.
I'm going to throw up.
The book was fine, though.
(I know it was more of a rambling than a cohesive review, But I'm Sick! Life is Messed Up! People Are Savages!)
So right now, I'm a bit nauseated and by a bit I mean a lot. I'm also a bit confused and again, a bit equals a lot. What was that all about?
It was fun, at first. No, not fun, it was hilarious. It was my favorite piece of writing, ever. I had to memorize a myriad of sentences (Ha.)for further usage. But at a certain point, it got a bit gloomy (Remember the equation of a bit and a lot? Yeah, that.)and it was a gloomy kind of funny. And it was OK. But it didn't stop there. It went on, an on, and on. It reached the point when it wasn't just gloomy; it was a scary-gloomy kind of funny. Do you think that was the end? If yes, then you're wrong. Because it wan't. It was only the beginning - the last pages were mind/stomach-blowing, real life scary, you had to keep vomiting (mentally, of course. And in my case, really, as well. I was sick. Not from reading the book, although it probably had its fair share of contribution to my sickening/stomach turning/ rotten food projecting out of my mouth process.) Anyway, I'm totally nauseated and I'm not sure if it's the book, or the life.
Funnily enough, and surprisingly (not) enough, this book doesn't pass the Bechdel Test. Which I'm not sure applies to the books as well as the movies but what the hell. In case you don't know, it's basically a test examining whether a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. Yeah, a Man. The female characters outnumber the male ones in this book, but still, it doesn't pass the test. Which is a little (a lot) annoying.
It reminded me of Robert Cormier's books: People are savages, and savages are people.
I'm going to throw up.
The book was fine, though.
(I know it was more of a rambling than a cohesive review, But I'm Sick! Life is Messed Up! People Are Savages!)