About “A Series of Unfortunate Events” in a few words:

A Series of Unfortunate Events is a darkly comedic children’s book series written by Lemony Snicket (a pseudonym for Daniel Handler). The series follows the misadventures of the three Baudelaire siblings, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny, after their parents perish in a fire. Pursued by their greedy and conniving distant relative, Count Olaf, the Baudelaires use their individual talents to outsmart him and uncover the truth about their parents’ mysterious past. The series has been adapted into a Netflix original series and a feature film.

Meet the characters from A Series of Unfortunate Events

Count Olaf

Oh man, Count Olaf is the theatrical nightmare you can’t stop staring at — equal parts greasy eyeliner and suspiciously enthusiastic monologue. He’s theatrical, shameless, and the kind of villain who will rig a puppet show and probably cry about his childhood in the very next scene (or was it the scene before? I forget). He wants the Baudelaire fortune and will put on seven disguises and one fake mustache to get it, and somehow he makes melodrama feel like a hobby and a hobby feel dangerous. Also, low-key loves hats but will deny it and claim they’re “part of the plot” while glaring at anyone who breathes near his script.

Violet Baudelaire

Violet is the brilliant, braid-swinging inventor brain of the group and honestly kind of my hero — always with a twist of wire and a sarcastic eyebrow. Practical, fiercely protective, and annoyingly good at coming up with gadgets from spare teaspoons and misery, she somehow draws up a blueprint mid-crisis like it’s no big deal. She can be very serious and also the one to invent a ridiculous contraption that somehow involves a teapot, which is such a Violet thing, right? Slightly stubborn about dresses but also absolutely unbothered by grease under her nails; also, she hums when scheming and maybe she’s humming a tune from 1897, who knows.

Klaus Baudelaire

Klaus is the bookish heart with spectacles forever slipping down his nose — the kind of kid who will quote three obscure encyclopedias while measuring a trapdoor with heartbreaking calm. He obsesses over facts, solves riddles like it’s his job, and quietly panics when someone misplaces a page (which, btw, happens a lot). He’s thoughtful and brave in that low-key way where he just sits and researches until a solution appears, then volunteers to climb into the one questionable crawlspace. Also, he alphabetizes things sometimes, and other times he’ll leave a sandwich on the table for three days because he got distracted by a footnote.

Arthur Poe

Oh Mr. Poe, the well-meaning but perpetually flustered banker who could win an award for paperwork and confusion at the same time. He wants to help, truly, and every envelope he opens is like a personal tragedy — yet somehow he never quite does the right thing, mostly because the forms are terrifying. He has a fondness for stamps and a tendency to sigh in a way that means trouble is coming, and also he probably owns five hats but only ever wears one (a respectable hat; I’m not sure if it’s the same hat every day). There’s a sad, lovable competence about him, like a man battling a mountain of receipts with his dignity barely intact.

Sunny Baudelaire

Sunny is tiny but ferocious, the bite-sized powerhouse of the family who wields chompers like a tiny philosophical argument. She mostly communicates in cute one-syllable sounds early on (AND BITES EVERYTHING), but then later? She grows into full-sentence sass and you can’t tell me that isn’t the best character arc. She chews through ropes, through villains’ plans, through any notion that babies are helpless — and yes, she also inexplicably likes to gnaw on paperwork (I think it’s the texture). Occasionally will whisper a surprising word at exactly the right dramatic moment, which I always pretend was planned but maybe it was just hunger.

Esme Squalor

Esme is the ultimate fashion-obsessed aristocrat with a ridiculous, gleeful commitment to “in” things — and she will absolutely tell you what year is passé like it’s a personal favor. Trend-obsessed, vain, and sneaky, she treats life like a runway and status like currency, all while somehow plotting and conniving behind a perfectly lacquered manicure. She changes opinions faster than outfits (and yes, she has outfits for opinions) and will throw a tantrum if something is, gasp, not “so last Monday.” There’s a cold cleverness under the velvet, though, like someone who collects dustbooks for fun and also counts her friends by coat brand.

Quagmire

The Quagmires (or Quagmire-ish person if you like) are the resilient, resourceful trio-ish vibe — coders of secret messages, map-obsessed, and forever plotting an escape route with twine and a wink. Brave and tragic and a little poetic (one of them writes postcards like tiny novels), they have this loyalty that sticks like glue even when the world is actively trying to unstick them. They’re good with gadgets and codes and probably keep a treasure map under a cereal box, and also they laugh in slightly panicked whispers sometimes which is oddly charming. Slightly mysterious about surnames and who slept where, but absolutely will show up with rope and a plan when it matters.