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The hostile hospital / by Lemony Snicket ; illustrations by Brett Helquist.

By: Snicket, Lemony.
Contributor(s): Helquist, Brett.
Material type: materialTypeLabelBookSeries: A series of unfortunate events. Publisher: New York : HarperCollins Publishers, 2001Edition: 1st ed.Description: p. cm.ISBN: 0060288914 : LIB; 9781460755952.Subject(s): Premiers' Reading Challenge : 7-8DDC classification: [Fic] Summary: On the run after being falsely accused of murder, the three Baudelaire orphans find themselves in the Heimlich Hospital, with the evil Count Olaf in close pursuit.
Fiction notes: Click to open in new window
Item type Current location Collection Call number Status Date due Barcode Item reserves
Junior Sydenham Library (DIY)
Junior Fiction J SNIC Available IA0556841
Junior Keilor Library (DIY)
Junior Fiction J SINC Issued 07/10/2019 IA2047775
Junior St Albans Library
Junior Fiction J SINC Available IA2047774
Junior Sunshine Library (DIY)
Junior Fiction J SINC Issued 30/09/2019 IA2047773
Junior Sunshine Library (DIY)
Junior Fiction J SNIC Available IA2022241
Junior Deer Park Library (DIY)
Junior Fiction J SNIC Available IA2022243
Junior Keilor Library
Junior Fiction J SNIC Available IA2022242
Junior Sunshine Library (DIY)
Junior Fiction J SNIC Available IA2022240
Junior Sydenham Library
Junior Fiction J SNIC Available IA2022239
Junior Sunshine Library (DIY)
Junior Fiction J SNIC Available IA2022238
Total reserves: 0

On the run after being falsely accused of murder, the three Baudelaire orphans find themselves in the Heimlich Hospital, with the evil Count Olaf in close pursuit.

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

A Series of Unfortunate Events #8: The Hostile Hospital (SNY) Chapter One There are two reasons why a writer would end a sentence with the word "stop" written entirely in capital letters stop. The first is if the writer were writing a telegram, which is a coded message sent through an electrical wire stop. In a telegram, the word "stop" in all capital letters is the code for the end of a sentence stop. But there is another reason why a writer would end a sentence with "stop" written entirely in capital letters, and that is to warn readers that the book they are reading is so utterly wretched that if they have begun reading it, the best thing to do would be to stop stop. This particular book, for instance, describes an especially unhappy time in the dreadful lives of Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire, and if you have any sense at all you will shut this book immediately, drag it up a tall mountain, and throw it off the very top stop. There is no earthly reason why you should read even one more word about the misfortune, treachery, and woe that are in store for the three Baudelaire children, any more than you should run into the street and throw yourself under the wheels of a bus stop. This "stop" -- ended sentence is your very last chance to pretend the "stop" warning is a stop sign, and to stop the flood of despair that awaits you in this book, the heart-stopping horror that begins in the very next sentence, by obeying the "stop" and stopping stop. The Baudelaire orphans stopped. It was early in the morning, and the three children had been walking for hours across the flat and unfamiliar landscape. They were thirsty, lost, and exhausted, which are three good reasons to end a long walk, but they were also frightened, desperate, and not far from people who wanted to hurt them, which are three good reasons to continue. The siblings had abandoned all conversation hours ago, saving every last bit of their energy to put one foot in front of the other, but now they knew they had to stop, if only for a moment, and talk about what to do next. The children were standing in front of the Last Chance General Store -- the only building they had encountered since they began their long and frantic nighttime walk. The outside of the store was covered with faded posters advertising what was sold, and by the eerie light of the half-moon, the Baudelaires could see that fresh limes, plastic knives, canned meat, white envelopes, mango-flavored candy, red wine, leather wallets, fashion magazines, goldfish bowls, sleeping bags, roasted figs, cardboard boxes, controversial vitamins, and many other things were available inside the store. Nowhere on the building, however, was there a poster advertising help, which is really what the Baudelaires needed. "I think we should go inside," said Violet, taking a ribbon out of her pocket to tie up her hair. Violet, the eldest Baudelaire, was probably the finest fourteen-year-old inventor in the world, and she always tied her hair up in a ribbon when she had to solve a problem, and right now she was trying to invent a solution for the biggest problem she and her siblings had ever faced. "Perhaps there's somebody in there who can help us in some way." "But perhaps there's somebody in there who has seen our pictures in the newspaper," said Klaus, the middle Baudelaire, who had recently spent his thirteenth birthday in a filthy jail cell. Klaus had a real knack for remembering nearly every word of nearly all of the thousands of books he had read, and he frowned as he remembered something untrue he had recently read about himself in the newspaper. "If they read The Daily Punctilio," he continued, "perhaps they believe all those terrible things about us. Then they won't help us at all." "Agery!" Sunny said. Sunny was a baby, and as with most babies, different parts of her were growing at different rates. She had only four teeth, for example, but each of them was as sharp as that of an adult lion, and although she had recently learned to walk, Sunny was still getting the hang of speaking in a way that all adults could understand. Her siblings, however, knew at once that she meant "Well, we can't keep on walking forever," and the two older Baudelaires nodded in agreement. "Sunny's right," Violet said. "It's called the Last Chance General Store. That sounds like it's the only building for miles and miles. It might be our only opportunity to get some help." "And look," Klaus said, pointing to a poster taped in a high corner of the building. "We can send a telegram inside. Maybe we can get some help that way." "Who would we send a telegram to?" Violet asked, and once again the Baudelaires had to stop and think. If you are like most people, you have an assortment of friends and family you can call upon in times of trouble. For instance, if you woke up in the middle of the night and saw a masked woman trying to crawl through your bedroom window, you might call your mother or father to help you push her back out. If you found yourself hopelessly lost in the middle of a strange city, you might ask the police to give you a ride home. And if you were an author locked in an Italian restaurant that was slowly filling up with water, you might call upon your acquaintances in the locksmith, pasta, and sponge businesses to come and rescue you. But the Baudelaire children's trouble had begun with the news that their parents had been killed in a terrible fire, so they could not call upon their mother or father... A Series of Unfortunate Events #8: The Hostile Hospital (SNY) . Copyright © by Lemony Snicket. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from The Hostile Hospital by Lemony Snicket All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

Reviews provided by Syndetics

School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-7-Pity the poor Baudelaire siblings! On the run again from their archenemy Count Olaf, in Lemony Snicket's eight title in the popular series (HarperCollins, 2001) they find themselves thrust into yet another mystery, this time involving a burning building, heart-shaped balloons, kidnapping, unnecessary surgery, and a hospital where paperwork is more important than patients. Tim Curry's ability to seamlessly switch from one fully-voiced character to another is truly astonishing. Whether in the guise of baby Sunny (whose comments are always cogent but generally incomprehensible), the sinister and consummately evil Count Olaf and his equally despicable girlfriend Esme Squalor, or the cheerfully obnoxious leader of Volunteers Fighting Disease (V.F.D.), Curry literally becomes each character. A cliffhanger ending will leave fans eager for the next installment.-Cindy Lombardo, Orrville Public Library, OH (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Booklist Review

Gr. 4-6. The Baudelaire orphans squeak through another darkly amusing, nightmarish adventure in the eighth of the projected 13 volumes of A Series of Unfortunate Events. In this episode, the children try to learn more about their situation, their parents, and the mysterious Jacques Snicket while being pursued by Count Olaf and his nefarious cohorts, who topple file cabinets to flatten the kids, threaten to cut off anesthetized Violet's head, and trap the children in a burning building. Though the children escape, they are last seen in the trunk of Count Olaf's car, hurtling toward whatever destiny awaits in volume nine. Narrator Snicket is in fine form here, telling the siblings' story while dropping hints about his own dark past and offering entertaining asides, miscellaneous information, and at least one admirable pun. Perfectly capturing the atmosphere of the stories, Helquist's stylized pencil sketches are among his best yet. --Carolyn Phelan

Horn Book Review

In this longer-than-usual installment, Violet and Klaus Baudelaire travel to the Mortmain Mountains in hopes of finding their little sister Sunny, who has been kidnapped by the evil Count Olaf. The Baudelaires meet up with an old friend, Count Olaf is betrayed by two members of his entourage, and the telling of this intentionally over-the-top story is as arch (and one-note) as ever. From HORN BOOK Spring 2002, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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