You can call it love if you want to.
— Images in Vogue
In a time when grown men are seen openly reading Harry Potter on the bus with their aging eyes aided by bifocals, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to identify what makes a book “adult”. Of course, the idea of extreme sex and violence seems like the type of topics that separates the Man Lit from the Boy Lit, but doesn’t that stuff really hold the strongest appeal for teenagers? Often writing about sex or violence is labelled as “adult” when it is clearly anything but. Take a look in an adult bookstore and try and find something that you would describe as mature writing — it might just be one of the most immature places a person can visit. Real adult writing tends to trade the childhood fears of pirates and witchy stepmothers for fears of unrealized potential and middle age ennui. Daniel Handler, known to most as Lemony Snicket, author of Kid-Lit success, A Series of Unfortunate Events, spends his third official “adult” novel discussing the fears associated with love.
The book, Adverbs, is billed as a novel, but it is more accurately described as a collection of short stories tied with a love theme. Each tale is potentially stand-alone. Elements from the various stories show up in proceeding stories, and characters often discuss similar events throughout, such as the fact that San Francisco (where the book takes place) was recently discovered to be sitting atop a volcano. Coffee shops, cocktails, and bird facts, too, make repeated appearances. The various interpretations of love contained within these related structures, however, provide the strongest sense of an overriding narrative.
Adverbs head each story, here, such as “Immediately” or “Judgementally”. Their use functions to describe actions over nouns. In this case, each adverb is used to describe love, which Handler clearly sees as an act rather than an object. In writing, love is often described as a noun; it is usually portrayed as a single, unchanging, concrete item that is given from one person to another like a gift. In Handler’s world, love is constantly evolving. It is not given away by one to another, but is an action that must be continually performed by both.
The love described in this book is particularly adult. It is often complicated and difficult and straining with baggage. Although Handler’s Lemony Snicket books are famous for their unusual darkness, they tend to wrap up in tidily. The endings here are more ambiguous and often end with the emotion of love remaining strong even if unrequited. In “Obviously”, for instance, a teenager working at a multiplex takes tickets for Kickass: The Movie while pining for the teenage girl working the shift with him. We’re made aware, here, that, for numerous reasons, there is no chance for a union between these characters. Handler’s ability and keen insight into love’s varied forms is on display, though, and we remain compelled despite our awareness that young love won’t be blossoming.
The short story format allows Handler to convey these sombre messages perfectly. Handler uses the format to effectively capture time and place. Even if his characters aren’t as developed as they would perhaps be in a novel, the evocation and recreation of moments is his purpose. In “Clearly”, a young couple sneaks away into the woods for some risqué outdoor sex. After they have undressed, an apologetic hiker interrupts them with news of an injured friend. The couple attend to the hiker’s needs, leaving their own hanging. The mood, here, is cleverly thick with the unspoken and unacknowledged tensions between the helpful but unsatisfied lovers.
Not every story here is as emotionally resonant. At times, Handler’s characters appear motivated by the need to be clever, rather than by their more confronting emotions. The female character in “Naturally”, for instance, dates a man who turns out to be a ghost. When she discovers this, she ends their union. She tells him: “You’re empty and have nothing inside of you. I’m tired of men I have to shape into something.” It’s an obvious statement that, compared to the nuanced naturalism of a story like “Clearly”, seems forced and unsatisfying.
On the whole, though, Handler’s handling of love-as-a-verb is examined in a critical and realistic manner that resists cynicism or outright dismissal despite some low tones. Adverbs views love as something to enhance our lives. It’s a book for readers looking for love without the usual accompanying romance. It’s about love’s real life — that’s about as adult as it gets.