Back Flips and Party Tricks
I hated the first chapter of this novel, so much so that it took almost 200 pages for me to recover and trust Daniel Handler.
Still, once it all started to come together, I did an amazing about face.
By the end, I loved “Adverbs” and felt sad that I had to leave this crazy assortment of characters behind (or was it them who left me behind?).
I didn't want the party to end.
Across the Great Divide
The first chapter concerns an unnamed apparently heterosexual male character who leaves his partner, Andrea, catches a cab and immediately falls in love with the homophobic male cab driver, Peter.
I couldn’t understand why Daniel Handler wanted to confront me with this character so early in the book, when we're just starting to get to know each other.
I mean, who would be so totally self-deluded as to think you could instantaneously fall in love with an unsuspecting character across both the sexuality divide and the passenger’s seat?
What prospects of success could this character (or indeed, this novel) have after an opening gambit like that?
At First Sight
Was Handler being homophobic?
I don’t think so. Certainly, there was no hint of homophobia in the rest of the book.
So it’s quite possible that he was just making the point that many of us can (or believe we can) fall in love this instantaneously (incidentally, the name of the chapter), that we can experience love at first sight.
Indeed, many of us sustain ourselves with the hope that one day it might happen to us, and that it will involve somersaults and other party, if not circus, tricks (even though, as Handler points out, there is no more impossible task than “falling in love in a nightclub”).
So this novel provided me with a valuable lesson in my ongoing literary sex education.
Don't hurry the author.
This early in a book, they might just be engaging in foreplay.
Give them time. They might grow on you. You might get in the mood. You might like it.
Sometimes, you can't judge a book by its lover.
To Boldly Go Where No Grammarian Has Gone Before
Another reason for my skepticism was the structure of the novel.
It consists of 17 chapters, each of which is headed by an adverb.
Most of us are taught to eschew adverbs in writing.
Here, Handler has won and asserted the freedom, not just to use them, but to bring them forward and upfront, if that’s not too adverbial.
In Which the Author Proceeds Listily...
My initial gripe was that they’re not a particularly inspiring choice of adverbs, at least superficially (which wasn't on the list).
I don’t think any (or many) of them would be on my (or perhaps even your) list of favourite adverbs on which to base a novel.
Here is Handler’s list:
"..., immediately, obviously, arguably, particularly, briefly, soundly, frigidly , collectively, symbolically , clearly, naturally , wrongly, truly , not particularly, often , barely, judgmentally , ..."
...When He Could Have Proceeded Lustily
Where are the adverbs you can get excited about, like these examples that I have chosen randomly (you might have ones that are better or otherly):
"..., suddenly, strangely, wonderfully, amusingly, tantalizingly, wholeheartedly, equally, madly, unconditionally, courageously, gently, secretively, quietly, noisily, gracefully, adoringly, pathetically, sweetly, heavenly, ..."
But then, these examples are probably just the adverbs that we have been counselled to eschew.
Something They Don't Teach You in Grammar School
So what did Daniel Handler have in mind?
Why did he choose such a neutral, neutered, sexless bunch of adverbs?
How did he plan to handle his subject matter?
How did he plan to seduce us with such words?
How did he plan to give us full body massages using these words as his hands?
How could he tickle our fancy using these words as feathers?
Impossible.
Or so I thought.
Love Traversed Adverbally
These words mean almost nothing by themselves.
Without more, they are just adverbs.
Handler’s trick is to recognise that his recipe required one more ingredient.
Step 2: Just add verbs.
Adverbs can't pleasure us alone.
They need a verb to qualify. They need a word they can relate to.
And the word is Love.
Love Probed Facetiously
Love is a diamond and each chapter explores a different facet through the eyes of different beholders.
There is some contention as to whether the book is really a novel or a collection of short stories.
However, the chapters are not discrete in the sense that they have no relation to each other.
Daniel Handler adds detail, chapter by chapter, so that meaning and understanding accumulate over the course of time, like a magpie assembles its nest, or photos add up to a photo album, or songs with similar themes add up to a concept album.
Characters, or at least names, from one chapter turn up in later chapters.
We learn new things on the way, constantly revising our opinions and speculating about the destiny of the characters.
So there is a cumulative wisdom at work, which unites the chapters into a novel of sorts.
Do You Believe in Miracles?
Everybody in the novel strives for love.
If we are lucky, love will touch and enliven us.
If we do nothing, we die.
It's a struggle of Sisyphusian proportions.
Life is short, time conspires against us.
We live on fault lines.
There are catastrophes occurring all around us.
We can also be distracted by petty troubles and worries, the detritus of past relationships that hang around to haunt us.
We are mad not to seek out and seize the opportunity for love while we can:
"What are we thinking? A volcano could destroy this town tomorrow, or guys with guns. Or both. Of course there’s going to be another catastrophe.”
The Magic Bus that Takes Me to You
The novel is not so much a hero’s journey, as a trip on a love bus, perhaps a shortbus.
Each member of the ensemble cast departs from their past, probes around while looking for love, and arrives at their own different version of the destination they aspire to.
Ultimately, with "Adverbs", Daniel Handler has lovingly crafted "A Series of Fortunate Events" for our delectation and inspiration.
Hitching a Ride with a Cab Driver
For each of us, there's a different way to find love.
And how we go about it can influence our prospects of success.
We must make choices on our journey:
"They say love’s like a bus, and if you wait long enough another one will come along, but not in this place where the buses are slow and most of the cute ones are gay.
"‘I could take the bus,’ Joe said out loud, ‘but a taxi is better...’”
So in the last chapter this particular Joe chooses a taxi to fast track him on the next phase of his journey, wishing and hoping the miracle of love will bless him:
"Love is a preference, and Joe found one as he was summoned to do.
"He found the love story he preferred, although he didn’t render this judgment officially until three years later when he and this cabdriver right here [Andrea] lay laughing and naked over how giddy he was during the miracle, during the blatant afternoon they met.”
I Never Metafiction I Didn’t Like
It would be remiss not to mention the sense of humour that winds through the novel.
At first, I thought I detected a cruelty, a sourness, a bitterness that seemed to be working on a sublemonal level, the occasional lemony snicker.
In retrospect, I think I was wrong.
I rushed to judgment, when I should have been patient.
The characters are diverse, but Daniel Handler loves them and their quest for love equally.
He likens love to diamonds and lovers to birds (specifically magpies) “looking for shiny things and carrying them around in their beaks”.
He deftly and humorously works real books about magpies [they are described as “attractive, artful and aggressive”] and a diamond ring [which is lost in his work and found in the other, real book] into his own work.
He locates his own bird tale in another bird's nest, he places his diamonds in another jeweller's setting.
He co-opts a whole world of fairy tales, fact and fiction into his own story.
In Which Our Lovers Arrive, Eventually...
Within his fictional ecosystem, “it is not the diamonds or the birds, the people or the potatoes [that are the miracles]; it is the adverbs, the way things are done. It is the way love gets done despite every catastrophe.”
Finding love is a miracle, the stuff of fairy tales, a legendary achievement, though not everybody experiences their own miracle:
"It can’t happen to everyone – as in life, some people will be killed off before they get something shiny, and some of them will screw it up and others will just end up with the wrong kind of bird – but some of them will arrive at love.
"Surely somebody will arrive, in a taxi perhaps, attractively, artfully, aggressively, or any other way it is done.”
And so it is that at the end of the book, Andrea takes Joe to his destination, stops the cab and announces, “You’ve arrived.”
He has come a long way for love.
...And the Reader Nods, Agreeably
The significance of the novel is not necessarily that they found love (the verbs), or that love happened to Andrea and Joe (the nouns), the significance is how it happened to them.
In Daniel Handler’s grammar of love, it’s the adverbs that make the difference.
He proved his point attractively, artfully, and aggressively.
By the end of the novel, I agreed with him.
Wholeheartedly.