The L Word

Dang it!

I picked up Adverbs by Daniel Handler months ago not just because I'm a devoted Lemony Snicket fan but because I fell in love with the cover and because it said 'this novel is about love' at the back cover.

It's supposedly a compilation of 17 different short stories although I seriously think the characters and plots are loosely connected as the characters do reappear (or is it they have the same names? I don't think so, even when their gender changes every so often) and the plot, well, seemingly linked.

Being the hopeless romantic (or is it voracious reader) that I am, I tried finishing the book in one sitting. Well almost. Before I even got to the last 2 chapters/ stories, I misplaced the book. I nearly forgot about it until I chanced upon it 2 days ago sitting behind East of Eden.

So I reread the whole dang thing.

The funny thing is - after reading it, rereading it, and reading between the lines - I don't think I got it. I thought perhaps reading it was a waste of time.

Although Handler portrayed the many faces and facets of love, he did so with his usual deadpan humor, sarcastic dry wit, and uncanny wordplay.

For something that claims to be about love, I found it to be quite unsentimental. Complex. Challenging.

Sometimes tortured, at times tragic. Sometimes sad, at times humorous. Oftentimes angry and obsessive, sometimes twisted and depressing.

Or maybe that's how love is in the first place.

It's beyond definiton. It defies categorization. It demands way too much energy. And in the end, it doesn't add up to anything.

The only lines(s) from the book I did get reads: 'Love is this sudden crash in your path, quick and to the point, and nearly always it leaves someone slain on the green'.

To which I couldn't agree more because even to a simpleton such as myself, anything less than mad, crazy jealous, obsessive, passionate, all-consuming love is a waste of time.

Dang, am I lucky!